Page 25 of The Grumpy Actor

“Yes, it’s work,” I say softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It is fine. You should go.”

I nod, standing up. As I leave the restaurant, I pray that whatever Liam is calling me for is urgent.

It had better be a life or death situation, because I’ll be really mad if it isn’t.

Chapter 8

Liam

Irakeahandthroughmy hair, then tap my fingers against the armrest, sharp and uneven. My thoughts are a mess. I’m annoyed, sure—but it’s more than that. There’s something simmering just under the surface, something I don’t want to name.

I tell myself it’s just frustration. That I’m irritated by her sudden reappearance, by the way she always knows how to get under my skin. But that excuse crumbles when I remember the guy from earlier.

The one who made her laugh.

I can’t explain why that image bothers me so much—or maybe I can, and I just don’t want to admit it.

Jealousy.

I hate that she’s on a date with another man, and I hate it even more that this man will get to watch her laugh and eat like I used to. He’ll get to see that side of her—the one that’s open, warm, real.

I try to remind myself I have no right to feel this way. But logic doesn’t stand a chance against whatever storm is brewing in my chest.

I glare at my phone. She still hasn’t replied. I fight the urge to message her again, knowing it’ll make it too obvious that I care.

But I do care. Too much.

From the way that guy looked at her, it’s clear he’s had feelings for Sophie for a while. He seems like a nice guy. The kind of guy who’d stick around. The kind of guy she could build a life with.

And I should probably let her. I should step aside and be the mature one here.

But if that’s true—if I really don’t feel that deeply—then why does the thought of her with someone else make it hard to breathe?

It’s more than jealousy. It’s something deeper, sharper. A feeling I thought I’d buried long ago now clawing its way to the surface.

The thought of her with someone else hits harder than I expected.

I hate that it hurts—and that I can’t seem to shut it off.

This doesn’t make much sense to me, like every other thing that’s happened between Sophie and me.

The door clicks open, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn toward the door and instantly relax when Sophie enters.

This relief is short-lived when she storms toward me with anger blazing in her eyes.

Her anger is something to behold, but so is the fact that she’s dressed so differently. She looks gorgeous, as always—but this time, it’s different. She dressed up. For someone else.

That stings more than I expected.

She has always been the type to go for comfort no matter the situation, so she didn’t dress up much when we were dating.

If she put this much effort into that guy, does that mean she never even liked me?

Great. Now I’m choking on emotions too. Perfect.

“What do you need?”

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