His gaze drifted to her lips. As he leaned in, she placed a hand on his chest.
“Wait.” She shut her eyes for a second, trying to gather her thoughts. “Is this…what is this?”
He chuckled. “I thought it was obvious.”
“Spell it out for me. I’m not feeling so smart right now.”
He took both her hands in his, kissing the back of her left hand, then her right. Staring deep into her eyes, he intoned:
“Emily Grey Brooks. I am madly, desperately in love with you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met. If you would do me the honor of giving me another chance, I swear I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am capable of being the man you deserve.”
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t pictured this moment hundreds of times over the past year and a half. Maybe thousands. But she’d been so focused on what he would say, the different ways he’d beg and plead and grovel his way back into her life, that she’d never stopped to think about how she would respond. Whether she could look into the eyes of the man she’d allowed to hurt her more deeply than anyone ever had, and agree to give him the power to do it again. Whether she could trust that he wouldn’t.
When they were together, his need for her had been so powerful that it was almost like a living thing. But there was an ugly side to it, a side that overwhelmed her, smothered her, left her helpless and flailing in his absence. But she’d learned to live without him again. She didn’t need him anymore. And tonight, there was no familiar edge of wild-eyed desperation to his plea. He didn’t need her anymore, either.
But they still wanted each other. They would still choose each other over anyone else on earth.
And in a way, that was even better.
Grey couldn’t help it: she melted. She struggled to stifle her grin as she rolled her eyes. “I need to stop dating actors. You’re all so fucking dramatic.”
Before he could respond, she knotted her hand in his shirt and pulled his face to hers. They both exhaled softly, a communal sigh of relief. They kissed like they had all the time in the world. Smoothing over their old fears, their doubts, their recriminations with their lips and tongues and hands like a skilled massage therapist working the kinks out of a gnarled back.
Too soon, he pulled away again.
“I almost forgot. I have something for you.”
She gave a little whine of protest as he slipped out from under her and went to his jacket. He pulled out a rolled-up sheaf of paper from the inner pocket and handed it to her, sitting back on the couch next to her. She looked down at it, confused. Unfurling the pages, she read the title: Bitter Pill.
“You finished it?”
His eyes lit up.
“I rewrote it. For you.”
She flipped through the pages, then looked up at him. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ll star. I’ll direct.” His eyes flicked to her face nervously. “What do you think?”
She leaned in and kissed him softly.
“Ethan, I—I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I know how much this means to you. I can’t wait to read it.” Her trepidation must have shown in her expression, because his face fell.
“?‘But…’?”
“But…” She hesitated. “I’m not saying no. But I’m not sure if this is right. I don’t know if I want to be retrofitted into something that was about you and Sam. I would love to work with you. But I want to be your partner, not your muse.”
She searched his face, waiting for him to retreat, to get upset. To take back everything he’d said and storm out the door. But she couldn’t lie about her feelings just to coddle his. She’d never minced words with him before, but her honesty felt even riskier now than when she’d told him off that very first day in Audrey’s office.
He slowly took the script out of her hands, his head dipping low. But when he looked at her again, there was only warmth in his expression. Her heart soared in relief.
“Okay,” he said simply.
“Okay?”
He shrugged. “Makes sense to me.” He ran his thumb across the edges of the pages. “It’s just a script. Just paper. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.”
Grey exhaled, then laughed under her breath.
“What?”
She gently took the script out of his hand and placed it on the ground before sliding her leg over his hips and straddling him. “Remind me to send a thank-you note to your therapist.”
He laughed, low and husky.
“I guess I deserve that.” He settled his hands at her waist. “He would’ve loved you, you know. Sam.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I wish I could have met him.”
“Me, too. You have a similar sense of humor. You’re so quick. You both…you make me want to be better. To be able to keep up with you.”
She took a moment to let the weight of the compliment settle over her, her lips curving slightly. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes.
“You know it’s going to take time, right?”
He leaned back, resting his hands on her hips. “For what?”
“For me to trust you again.” She paused. “If I’m being totally honest…I don’t think I ever trusted you. Not fully. There was always a part of me holding back.”
He nodded slowly. “I get that. I felt it. But you weren’t wrong. I wasn’t exactly acting like someone who deserved your trust.”
“Maybe. It wasn’t just you, though. It’s…it’s a problem I have. I’m working on it. But I don’t want our relationship to be like that this time.”
She brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes, resting her hand on the side of his face. “This shouldn’t be about repairing what was broken. It should be about creating something new. Something beautiful. Together.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm.
“I like the sound of that.”
She felt giddy, almost light-headed. She had to fight to get her next words out as he brought his mouth back to hers, stealing her breath away with deep, drugging kisses. “Okay. Good. Because I—mmph—love you, too, so fucking much. Did—mmph—I already say that? I feel like I forgot—mmph—to say that.”
He laughed, pulling away just enough to press his forehead to hers. “It may have slipped your mind.”
They didn’t do much talking after that. They spent the rest of the evening getting reacquainted, with and without words, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, casting off the shadows of the past, luxuriating in the promise of their future.
THEIR LIPS ARE SEALED
Within the first six months of their relationship, Grey Brooks and Ethan Atkins navigated leaked photos, public tantrums, breakups, and makeups—but more than three years later, the formerly scandal-prone couple has turned downright boring. In a rare joint interview, Atkins and Brooks spill on sobriety, their upcoming first project together, and becoming one big, happy family.
BY SUGAR CLARKE
It’s 9 a.m., and Ethan Atkins and Grey Brooks are fighting. Make no mistake: this is no lover’s quarrel. Their weapons of choice aren’t passive-aggressive barbs about long-brewing resentments, but a flurry of fists, feet, and elbows. Despite the size difference between them, they’re well matched, Brooks’s agility compensating for Atkins’s power.
Finally, a well-placed sweep of her leg has Atkins on his back, utterly at her mercy. Brooks plants her bare foot on his chest and crows with victory—that is, until Atkins brushes his fingers under her arch, leading her to yelp with outrage before collapsing on top of him in a giggling heap.