Page 35 of Her Dark Angel

A minute later, Jason is calling for places. When the camera is rolling, I fall into the mindset of my character and get lost in the scene. We have to shoot the scene three more times before the director is happy to move on to the next.

Wesley joins me on the set, the bright lights letting me see more clearly that he’s dressed in a dark blue suit which appears a little big for his frame, creating a baggy look. He settles on the couch beside me, his knees slightly brushing mine.

“You look lovely today, Kinsley.”

I run my hands over my bare knees and offer a half smile. “Thanks, Wesley.”

I never know how to take his compliments or even how to return them. While it’s nice to hear such things from him, the longer I don’t turn down the compliments, the further it encourages him to continue. It’s not a smart choice, but then again, I’m not one for making smart decisions at times.

Wesley adjusts the neckline of the jacket slightly. It wouldn’t surprise me if the suit was many years old and left over from other movies or television shows that were filmed in this same studio. “How was the event you went to the other night?”

“It was good.” I don’t offer further details because it’s not something I want to discuss with him at work. The last thing I want to discuss with my coworker is the details of my private life.

Wesley casts his eyes down as he begins to pick at the lint on the material of the suit pants. “So… I see you’re dating Nash Beck. When did that start?”

I swallow hard. Right. I had forgotten everyone I knew in my life would become aware of my relationship with Nash. I haven’t been on set since the award show because Jason gave us a few days off, so it had slipped my mind that my sudden relationship would be a hot topic around the set.

If my colleagues don’t know about Nash, they will learn soon enough when he stops by today.

“Uh… yeah,” is all I manage to say. I haven’t stopped to think about what our backstory would be. Adam didn’t discuss a plan with me, so now I’m left to my own devices as to what I should tell him.

Sensing my hesitation, Wesley’s eyes widen. “Oh, my God. I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries, Kin. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s okay.” This question surely would’ve come up sooner or later in future interviews about Nash and me, so I may as well use this conversation as practice. “A month. We started dating a month ago but wanted to keep it on the down low before we shared it with the world. I’m sure you can understand.”

A disappointed look crosses Wesley’s face. “Yeah. I get it. It’s just… how did you two meet? I mean, Nash Beck is rowdy and whatnot. He doesn’t seem like your type.”

I raise a brow at him. “My type? What does that even mean, Wesley?”

“I just mean that you’re too good for him, Kin.”

“Too good—Wesley, you don’t even know Nash besides what the media depicts him as.”

I don’t know why I feel the need to defend Nash when he is more than capable of handling himself, but it doesn’t sit right with me to hear Wesley talk badly about him. Yes, Nash is a rowdy rockstar who takes drugs and drinks more alcohol than he does water, but it doesn’t mean he’s a bad person. He’s just… different. And that’s okay.

Wesley’s lips form a thin line as he holds his hands up in defense. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Kin. I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Before I can open my mouth to respond, a deep voice halts the words in my throat.

“You don’t need to worry about my little devil. That’s my job.”

Our heads snap to look at where Nash is standing at the edge of the set. His right hand is shoved deep into the pockets of the black jeans covering his long legs. A black leather jacket is slung over his shoulder, his other hand holding it by the collar, with a white tank top covering his torso—specks of black ink visible through the thin material. His curls are wild and messy atop his head, hanging low above his shoulders.

All he needs to complete the rockstar look is a cigarette between his lips where the lip ring is and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

Nash steps onto the set, his black combat boots out of place against the bright backdrop. He tilts his head to the side, looking between Wesley and me. His mismatched eyes are even brighter under the studio lights. Enough to make Wesley shift uncomfortably on the couch.

Nash Beck looks like the Devil in disguise, ready to consume my soul. I’m afraid if I look at his devastatingly handsome features for too long, he just might.

“Is he bothering you?” Nash directs the question to me, but his eyes never leave Wesley. He drags the jacket off his shoulder, the material now hanging by his side. “If he is, just say the word and I’ll take care of him for you.”

Wesley swallows hard, his body tense beside me. “I-I wasn’t bothering her. I promise.”

“Ease up on him,” I say to Nash. However, I must admit that seeing him act this way to another man for me is doing something to my core I don’t want to acknowledge.

He’s just acting, my subconscious reminds me. So, join in and play the part.

Ignoring me, Nash faces Wesley fully, and out of the corner of my eye, I see my co-star’s entire body stiffen. Nash points a finger at Wesley’s chest, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “If I hear from my little devil that you’re harassing her, you won’t want to see what I’m capable of. Got it?”

---