He laughs the open-mouthed laugh I love. “That was possibly my favorite part at the bar.”
I reach over, smacking his arm.
“I mean it when I say I’ve loved everything I’ve done,” he says, “but I really love West Midlands. It’s fun to do something where we develop relationships with our costars over time, and this cast is amazing.” He reaches for my hand again, weaving our fingers together, resting them on his thigh. “The early stuff all feels a little blurry. It was so exciting but so crazy. I got the role in Saviors, and I know people say this all the time, but it felt like everything changed overnight.”
“Do you like it, though? I bet it’s cool to be recognized.”
“Yes and no,” he admits, releasing my hand to dig into the backpack for our waters and granola bars. He passes me mine and then takes a long drink. “At first it was exciting, but it can be draining, too. And the press in London are unrelenting.”
“Oh. I hadn’t really thought of that.”
He lifts a wry eyebrow. “It makes it hard to be in a relationship, for example.”
I carefully steer away from the personal aspect of this minefield. “You dated your one costar, though, right?”
“Park Jin-ae? Yeah. For a couple years.” He grins at me. “I see you read that Google result carefully.”
“I probably don’t need to tell you that when you type ‘Alexander Kim’ on Google, ‘Alexander Kim girlfriend’ is the first option that autofills.”
This makes him groan. “That relationship—we actually had to do a press release,” he tells me. “Every interview, someone would bring it up. They even asked our current and past costars so much about it. Finally, we acknowledged we were together. It’s a big deal to do that, and as a rule I don’t share personal things publicly.”
“I’m sure it’s hard to trust.” He goes quiet at this, and I can feel him staring at me, trying to figure me out.
“I can see you looking at me, thinking that I must be talking about myself right now.”
He laughs, and I know I’m right. “You said you only broke up with your ex a few months ago?”
“Yeah. Six months now.”
“How long were you together?” he asks.
I wince because I already know how this answer will land. “About six and a half years.”
As expected, Alec goes still next to me. “Wow.”
Nodding, I say, “I hate how much time I gave him. I think I was over him a long time before everything fell apart.” I take another sip of water, clearing the heat in my throat. “I’m not mad at him as much as I’m mad at me.”
“Why?”
“For being lied to for so long.”
He leans in to catch my eye. “You didn’t do the lying, though.”
“True,” I say, and finally look over at him, “but it would be the same for you. To be with someone who was lying to you for a year. Acting a part for a year and somehow you didn’t pick up on it. You’re an actor. It’s your job to know when someone is acting. I’m a journalist. It’s my job to see the story underneath. I didn’t.”
His mouth forms a little ah of comprehension. “I get it.”
“And it’s hard to imagine that none of our friends knew. I wonder if some of them did and were trying to help Spence get back on his feet without telling me.”
“Ouch.”
Nodding, I say, “So it’s hard to trust my instincts.”
We stare out at the water for a couple quiet moments.
“Well,” he says, “my instincts tell me it’s time for us to go play in those waves.”
I want to kiss him for this easy redirect. We grab a couple of pool noodles and slowly inch our way into the freezing Pacific, carefully dodging the huge crashing waves, diving under them and pushing past where they break, out to where the water is clear and calm. From out here, the people on the beach look like tiny dots.