Page 20 of The Grumpy Actor

I scoff. “Because there’s nothing shecanteach me. Why am I even arguing with you?”

“Because it’s about time someone told you the truth!” She steps closer, her hazel eyes blazing with fire. “And the truth is that you’re a bad actor.”

“Just because I can’t play some cringy role?”

“Yes!” she snaps. “You consider these cringy roles to be so simple that you don’t consider the actors who play them as real actors. But if it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?”

Okay, that burns.

No one has ever spoken to me this way except Sophie. Back when we were dating, she never had any issues arguing with me, to the point where I almost saw reason with her.

Not now, though.

I take a menacing step toward her. “Watch your mouth, Sophie.”

“Or what?” she challenges, arms crossed. “What are you going to do?”

The fire in her eyes hits me square in the chest. It’s too familiar, too electric. It’s the same look she used to give me when I pushed her too far—and the same one that made me fall for her in the first place. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out every thought except one.

I still want her.

The frustration simmering beneath my skin twists into something hotter, heavier. I don’t think—my body moves before my brain can catch up.

I reach for her waist and pull her to me, closing the distance we both pretend isn’t there. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away. Not yet.

Her lips part slightly, like she’s ready to argue—or something else. And before I can second-guess it, I kiss her.

It’s reckless. It’s wrong. But the second our mouths meet, the world blurs. She tastes like memories and second chances, like the only thing that’s ever made sense and the one thing I was stupid enough to lose.

Her hands fist in my shirt. My heart slams against my ribs. For one beautiful, impossible second, she kisses me back.

I forget everything else. The years, the pain, the silence between us. In that moment, it’s just her and me, and the way we used to fit.

But then, like a snapped cord, it all falls apart.

She stiffens.

Her palms press against my chest, pushing me back with more force than I expect. Her breath is sharp, her eyes wide with shock.

I stumble a step, chest heaving, mind spinning.

Sophie’s lips are red and swollen from my kiss, almost calling me back for more. Her cheeks are flushed as she takes a cautious step away from me.

What did I just do?

“Don’t…don’t you ever do that again,” Sophie warns shakily, her voice breathless.

Deep down, I want to remind her that she enjoyed the kiss as much as I did. Another part of me wants to let her know that it might be impossible for me not to do that again, but I hold myself back.

I take in a calm breath and nod. “I’m so sorry for kissing you so abruptly. It was a mistake.”

It clearly wasn’t, but I’d like to believe it was.

“A mistake that must never repeat itself,” she warns.

“It won’t happen again,” I say.

Sophie’s tense shoulders relax. She pushes the door open and rushes out of the trailer. I watch her run off before the door closes.

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