Until Then

21. Noah

TWENTY-ONE

Noah

Hayley’s hand in mine soothes the heaviest thoughts. The idea she’s here, laughing with me, our friends, leaning against my shoulder, is a new dream.

Across from us, Briar and Tyrell barely take their hands off each other. A few other guys from the studio sit by Carter. My friend can’t stop trying to engage Greer with questions about her pro-bono work at her law firm. He’s hit on her more than once. Greer is savvy. No mistake, if Carter wants an in with a woman like her, he’ll need to get creative.

Or he’ll fall on his face.

Greer doesn’t seem the type to mess around.

“I still can’t believe you got Noah to sign an NDA.” Briar sips from her wine glass, drawing Greer’s attention.

Hayley huffs. “I still can’t believe you did it behind my back!”

Greer pops a shoulder. “I was looking out for my girl.”

I let my arm fall around Hayley’s shoulders. “I didn’t mind.”

Briar clicks her tongue. “Noah’s never done something like that, Haze. Just saying.”

Hayley gives me a knowing look, then kisses the hinge of my jaw. “Well, I still don’t like it, but the willingness is hot.”

Carter snaps his finger. “Just so you know, Hayley, after yesterday we are officially friends with benefits.”

“Um, what?”

“Yeah, what?” I glare at my idiot of a friend.

“Relax, Noah-Bear. Not in that way.” Carter levels Hayley in his gaze. “I mean I plan to cash in on the benefit of practicing like we did for the kids yesterday. It got me thinking. I’m the one who almost breaks his neck jumping off moving horses. A few extra hours wouldn’t hurt to help keep me, you know, alive.”

Hayley laughs and lets her head fall to my shoulder. “You’re welcome to practice as much as you want.”

My fingertips trail along her arm, tracing the freckles on her shoulder. She fits here. Next to me. I fit with her. In the stalls. Under the stars.

There’s a piece of me that believed something so perfect couldn’t truly exist.

The restaurant owner is a close friend of Tyrell’s. Like Alan in my dive diner, he’s accustomed to ushering faces from the show through a back entrance to avoid a lot of fanfare.

Briar allows her husband to help her with a jacket, but pins me in a look while I wait for Hayley and Greer to return from the restroom.

“So, this thing with Haze, it’s solid?”

“You sound accusatory, Bry.” I lean one shoulder against the wall. “You’ve dated me, if you recall, and know what I’m like. What do you think?”

“I think you always saw me as a friend.”

I smiled. Briar and I were always destined to be friends, not lovers. A few kisses in the past, but nothing more. We’re friends, but she’s Hayley’s friend too.

I know what she wants to hear.

“I never want to go on a first date again, Bry. That’s how serious I am.”

Her expression softens and there’s a subtle tremble to her lip.

“I love it.” She squeezes my bicep. “You both deserve it, Noah. Seriously. I can’t believe I never put you together before. You’re basically perfect for each other.”

Hayley slides by my side, wrapping her hand around my arm. “You didn’t think of us probably because I wasn’t open to anyone in film after Jasper.”

“True.”

Tyrell frowns. I’ve come to learn he’s strongly, strongly dissuaded his niece from dating Hayley’s ex after the wedding.

Last I heard, she was finally thinking twice about getting involved with the man.

“Let’s do this again before filming starts,” Briar says.

“And late nights on set,” I add.

Once we’re back to filming, it’ll be long days for me and Tyrell. Truth be told, Tyrell’s job is even more time consuming. He’s the backbone, brain, and heart of the entire show. Doubtless, he knows it’s the final season.

I haven’t let on that I know, but I imagine the man’s likely looking forward to continuing and ending, all at once.

Hayley waves to everyone, waits for Greer to accept a ride with Carter and two of the other guys from the studio, then slips her fingers through mine.

“I really am sorry Greer shoved an NDA in your face.”

“Don’t be,” I tell her, lifting her knuckles to my lips. “There isn’t a reason for one, but if it helped prove I’m not playing here, I was happy to do it. No matter what, I had no plans to drag your name through the press.”

“I’ll sign one. If you want.” She hesitates, then looks at me. “To be fair.”

I pin her back to the wall, cup one palm to her face, then bring my lips close. “I don’t need you to sign an NDA, Wildfire. This”—I wave my finger between us—“it’s not ending.”

“You seem so sure.”

“The only way this ends is if you get tired of me, and honestly, if that happens, I’ll tell you to take a quick nap.”

She laughs and curls her hand around the back of my neck until our mouths collide.

I’ll never get bored with kissing this woman.

When we come up for air, we make our way to my car parked in the back.

“Hey, are you good?” Hayley asks before she gets into the car. “You seemed a little . . . down tonight.”

Great. I’m slipping. I smile and press a kiss to the side of her neck. “I am down. My girl is leaving me.”

She scoffs and takes her place in the passenger seat. “I’m going to be gone for four days, Pretty Boy.”

“Four days too long.”

“Clingy.”

“Level five, baby.” I wink and slip behind the steering wheel. “Actually, on top of you abandoning me?—”

“I invited you.”

“Semantics.” I grip the wheel to keep my hands busy and my mind focused on anything but the weight stacking in my chest. Change. Fear. Irrational monologues. It all draws the fog and lethargy and heavy thoughts. Hayley doesn’t need to see it. If I can simply get a freaking grip, she might not ever need to. I roll my head on the headrest and glance at her. “I spoke with Chase—Rex Blade, the author—today. He told me it’s the final season.”

I anticipate her making a simple remark. Maybe comment on the length of the show. Maybe tell me it’s time to move on since I already confessed I wanted a slower pace.

Hayley doesn’t do any of it.

Instead, she takes my hand and holds it to her lips, kissing me there. “I’m sorry, Noah. I can’t imagine having no say on such a huge chapter closing. I know you’ve talked about making changes in your career, but still, I’m sure it’s going to be difficult to say goodbye to the set crew, the cast, everyone.”

Words dry up. I don’t know what to say. Even Carter—a member of the crew—always talks about the next step with excitement. For me, I’m ready, but it still aches.

I close the space between us and kiss her.

I kiss her until there’s little room to question exactly what I feel about her.

“Noah.”

I snap my eyes open. “Hey, Rob.”

I shake my agent’s hand.

“I’m glad you’re finally open to talking.”

Rob’s a good guy. He works hard, but he’s not the sort of agent who tries hard to get to know the people he represents. I’ve been aware I’m a paycheck to him, but he’s never pretended otherwise.

“This could be a big opportunity,” Rob insists. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Shane, either from his films or directorial reputation.”

I’ve heard of Shane Holston. The man was a nineties heartthrob star. The sort that starred in a lot of goofy comedies with his shirt off, a few gory horror flicks, but when he wasn’t much older than me, he shifted to directing.

He’s won more than one award for movies that come with his name stamped on it.

Mostly historical films or romantic dramas.

Right now, I can hardly find the energy to care. The whole notion of moving on and doing something new is daunting and draining.

I’m going to botch this meeting.

“Shall we?” Rob opens an arm toward the door of a high-end French restaurant downtown.

I stand and follow him, a little slumped. Get it together. I roll my shoulders back and step into the dining room.

There are a few other patrons at distant tables, but surrounding a round table in the center are several guys in nice suits.

I recognize Shane straightaway. Handsome, stands with a smug arrogance, and still has thick auburn hair, styled and picture ready.

This is a big moment, meeting with a renowned director. I can’t summon the excitement. In truth, I don’t know if it's because of my own mind or if it’s more to do with the way the guy sizes me up.

He’s not even attempting to hide it.

Weird.

Once we make it to the table, Shane stands and buttons his suit coat. He holds out one hand. “Mr. Hayden. Good to meet you.”

“You as well.” I shake his hand and take a seat on the opposite side of the table.

“Rob’s been talking you up,” Shane says, making a one-finger summons to a waiter. He waits for the server to pour wine before he goes on. “Your work on the small screen speaks for itself, of course.”

“Three-time nominated for best male lead in a drama series,” Rob says.

He’s always the man to have if one needs to brag about their accomplishments.

Shane hums and takes a sip of his wine. His eyes are nearly the same hazel as Hayley’s, only colder, harsher.

Two more nights. She’ll be back in two more nights. In the meantime, I’ll get over this storm in my head.

Shane returns his wine glass to the table. “Nominations are fine. But it’s the win you want.”

“That’s the hope,” Rob agrees, always reaching for the segue to sell me. “With a Holston film, he’ll get there. No doubt.”

Again, Shane studies me like I’m an ant he’s about to squash. Not really surprising. These big shots typically keep a certain arrogant propriety about them. They’re the kings and queens of movie sets. They want us miserable paupers to know it.

Finally he breaks a cocky smile. “I can appreciate a man who does anything to reach for what he wants. Your little video certainly caught my attention.”

What ? I arch a brow. “Video?”

“At the ranch.”

“Oh.” Thoughts of the day Hayley agreed to be mine for real always brings a natural smile. “That’s my girlfriend. She’s an occupational therapist.”

Why did the video with Colt catch a director’s attention?

Shane chuckles. It’s not warm. “I’m aware of who she is. Although I appreciate the tenacity, maybe cut things off. We’re talking now. No need to hurt her unnecessarily.”

What is this guy on? “I don’t understand. I have no intention of hurting my girlfriend. Honestly, I don’t know what she has to do with any of this.”

A furrow gathers between Shane’s brows. “Rob, help me. Is he acting? If so, he’s very good.”

Unease, settles in my chest. This is . . . off. I don’t let my agent respond before I go on. “I’m not acting. What does Hayley have to do with any of this.”

Shane scoffs, annoyed. “You don’t know?”

“Know what, Mr. Holston?”

“You weren’t trying to get my attention by being with her?” The confusion in his features only deepens.

My knee bounces beneath the table. “What? No. I plan to be with the woman until I’m dead. Probably even after. What’s going on?”

A rise of something heated, something protective, about Hayley draws my fingers into a fist under the table. I don’t like all these guys talking about her.

I don’t like the insinuation I’m with her to get parts.

None of it makes sense.

For a pause no one speaks. Until Shane takes up his wine, and faces the others at the table. “Excuse us please. I think I need to speak to Mr. Hayden alone.”

Rob starts to protest, but Shane cuts him a sharp stare. One by one, the other suits—my representation included—leave the dining room.

Awkward pressure builds like a squall between me and Shane Holston.

He swirls his wine glass. “You have a reputation of speaking against behaviors of your superiors on sets, don’t you, Mr. Hayden? You’re bold. Outspoken. But very good at what you do.”

“Sir, I’ll speak out if people behave poorly. Now, with all respect—why did you excuse everyone?”

“I’d like to talk to you, man to man.” His eyes narrow over his wine glass. “I want to know what you’re really doing with my daughter.”