She crawled to the end of the opposite end of the couch and disappeared into the bedroom they shared.
Abby picked up the broken cup and collected shards. “What was that about?” She stood and moved to the kitchen, opening and closing closets and cupboards, muttering, “Don’t move until I get those little pieces up.”
Tessa was fighting to hear the television. “…why don’t you surf your own scenes?”
Tessa braced her forearms on her knees and covered her mouth with both hands, whispering, “Sweet Jesus.”
All the strong walls she’d built over the years crumbled, and she started to tremble.
“That was a colossal bummer,” he said. “Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the studio decided I’m too valuable to risk boarding those pipeline waves…”
He babbled on about his skill and how the waves in Hawaii were nothing compared to the ones he’d surfed in Australia.
Abby returned with a small garbage can and gingerly picked up the smaller shards. “Just keep Sophia away from here until I can get to the building’s office and pick up a vacuum.”
Tessa barely heard her. She was mired in memories, trying to recall the moment the man she’d been with the night before had called himself Ian. But she couldn’t. What she remembered was all the other women calling him Ian as they asked for his autograph. The sight of women comparing signatures on their bodies, signatures that resembled the name Ian Bellamy.
She pushed her mind further back, searching for a time she’d called him Ian and he’d corrected her. But she couldn’t remember that either. Because she hadn’t. What she’d done was ask when Zach was going to be there.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day. Do you know if Zach is coming?”
“What? Who?”
“Your twin. Your double. Your costar. Whatever you call him. He was supposed to be here tonight. Is he coming?”
She’d never called the man she’d been with the night before Ian because she hadn’t felt like the name fit him. And, shit, why hadn’t she listened to her gut?
Because she never listened to her gut. She played by the rules, colored within the lines, stayed out of trouble, just like she’d told him last night.
Right up until the moment she’d had sex with him.
Repeatedly.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…” she chanted softly as her anxiety rose.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she covered her face with both hands. If this was truly Ian on the show in front of her, the only person Tessa could have been with last night was Zach.
A sob rocked her shoulders, and Tessa sank into denial. She couldn’t have… She simply couldn’t have… Maybe there was someone else on the crew… Maybe this was a practical joke between coworkers she’d fallen into…
“…do you guys want to see Ian and his stunt double, side by side?” the anchorwoman asked the audience.
A sound rose from Tessa’s throat. A sound of terror and anguish. But the crowd went crazy again, reminding Tessa of the hours she’d spent on the sidelines with the groupies screaming for Ian.
“All right…” The newswoman continued talking, but Tessa didn’t listen.
With her hands curled into fists and pressed to her mouth, Tessa sipped a breath and held it, her gaze steady on the screen.
An image of the man being interviewed—she still couldn’t bring herself to think of him as Ian—came up. It was a familiar sight—the guy on stage now, only at the beach, wearing nothing but white board shorts, grinning at something in the distance. Tessa would have known by the body alone he wasn’t the man she’d spent the night with. He might have been roughly the same size, but he didn’t have near the muscle mass, and what muscle he did have wasn’t as honed. Tessa would never forget the abs she’d traced with her tongue. And those did not live on the man pictured.
In the next instant, the man who owned the abs she’d explored intimately popped up on the screen. Same pose, same smile, same white board shorts. But definitely not the same man.
Tessa choked on a sob. She wasn’t exactly shocked when the anchorwoman validated her worst possible fear.
“And here we have Zach Ellis.”
Hearing his name felt like a physical punch to her gut. Tessa covered her face with both hands and whispered a shaky “Holy. Fuck.”
“You never swear.” Abby’s voice touched her ear. Her hand closed over Tessa’s knee. “What’s wrong?”