Page 14 of Until Then

I chuckle through a long drink of simple bottled beer. Maybe I should lay it out there. The truth might end the night without me having to do much more. Maybe something like:

Hey, Eden. Are you cool with my collection of Pokémon cards I keep in a glass case, my love of fae romance books since I started filming a fantasy series, and my proclivity to get stuck in my own head? Would you laugh with me over a blueberry scone, blaze through my world, then never call again?

Oh, yeah. One more thing—it’s big—I don’t want to be famous anymore. Frankly, much longer and I might break.

My attention drifts around the dining room.

Couples laughing, friends, college students crammed into booths and tables. It all seems so . . . nice. So normal.

There is a steadiness in their eyes. A small grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. I’m grateful for all I’ve gotten these last years. I’ve formed lifelong friendships, had experiences I never imagined would have ever been real, but I don’t know if I’ve ever been designed to do this for the long haul.

My brother and friends in Las Vegas, they’re all finding their peace, their families. They’ve kept their dreams but found purpose in those they love more.

I want the same.

Theater and acting are part of me. I love it, but lately it feels more about how many times my face is put in tabloids, who I’m dating, or how many auditions my agent lines up for the future.

Sometimes, I miss just stepping onto a stage with an intimate audience and descending into a character without all the extra that comes with it.

It’s why I joined with the outreach program. The whole system unlocked a new passion of teaching the kids drama and theater, to see their eyes ignite with the possibility of designing a show for others to enjoy. To develop new skills and passions they might’ve missed otherwise.

The fiery desire I had for acting feels like it’s returning through a gaggle of middle schoolers doing an improv scene three days a week.

“Noah, are you listening to me?” Eden’s sharp voice snaps me out of my wandering thoughts.

I set my drink down and stand. “No. I wasn’t, sorry. Look, Eden, I don’t want to be a jerk, but it needs to be said—I’m going alone to the wedding.”

She’s holding her phone, face flushed, a dangerous sort of rage in her eyes. “What?”

“See, if you wanted to sneak around behind my back and give up personal conversations to the tabloids, maybe don’t do it where people who are my friends might see and hear you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Carter Warren heard you talking toStarWatchabout my nephew—who is one hundred percent off limits. Really? You had to bring a kid into it. What were you thinking telling a tabloid when Jude is coming to stay with me this fall? You put him at risk, and I don’t play with that.”

“Noah, I didn’t mean anything . . . I was simply telling them how you’re involved with your family.”

“They already know. But they never know exact details of where and who I will be with for safety, Eden. Safety for a four-year-old kid who already deals with enough limelight from Rees. Carter heard it all. Honestly, if Vienna sees you at the wedding, her claws might come out.” I shake my head and click my tongue. “You already knew it was only stuntmen who were at the studio last week, yet you showed up to bring me lunch? Pretty convenient to run into the cameras who are always hanging around.”

Eden blanches. She blinks enough, I think her false lashes might fall off. “Noah, I can explain, I?—”

“No need.”

“But we’re . . . we were going to go public and exclusive.” She’s staring at the table as though in a daze.

“Nah. See when I want to be with someone, I plan to trust them. So, I’m going to leave,” I tell her, aware the guy with his camera across the restaurant is watching our every move. “I’ll send for a car and cover it for you.”

“No.” Eden shoots to her feet when I turn away. “I am going to that wedding, Noah Hayden. You can’t do this.”

And there’s the truth. What it’s always about, with everyone, every time. How I can help them grow their own career with my connections?

“You’re breaking up with me?” Her voice goes shrill. I glance back at the man who is not moving.

“No. We weren’t together to break up.”

There is an eerie, steely glint in Eden’s eyes when I turn around again. “You’re doing thisdaysbefore the wedding? I’ve promised my subscribers an inside look.”

“I’m not bringing a gossip leak to Briar’s wedding. She’s closed it to the public for a reason,” I say, voice low.

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