Page 4 of The Fate Of Us

It makes me feel uneasy. I rarely see this side of him anymore. He always had a habit ofkeeping his true feelings hidden from everyone except me, and I did the same with him. We were each other’s safety blanket. So seeing him stretch out his hands to calm his shaking leg and skillfully take those three calming breaths I taught him to do when he was overwhelmed almost makes me want to forget the past.

Almost.

One of those hands covers his mouth as he clears his throat. “Yeah, we know each other quite well.” His eyes flick to me for a heartbeat, beforeshooting straight back to the contract that’s in front of him. I try my best to ignore how my cheeks feel like he’s just struck a match to them, but they’re burning up so quickly it’s impossible not to.

“That’s great! Nothing worse than production being delayed due to actors not getting on.Glad we won’t have that issue here!”

Oh, if only you knew, man I don’t know.

I almost want to giggle at how ironic his statement is, but not wanting to offend him, I optfor a bite of my lip and a shake of my head. “Absolutely.”

I’m a professional. I’ve been in this career for long enough to know the golden rule:always leave your personal lives at the entrance to every set and studio you step foot into. I know Nate knows that too. That's why we don’t need to say a thing to each other; we know that we don’t bring up what happened that summer, ever.

“Well, shall we make it official?” The man lifts his hand, gesturing us to hurry up andsign our contracts.

I can practically feel my heart in my throat, choking me like the whimsicalsummer memories were.It’s like the windows are closing in on me, and the one that houses the escape route toback out of this project is closing along with them.

In my heart of hearts, I know I don’t want to sign this contract. Not only is the big Hollywood dream that was never mine to begin with rapidly fading away, but having Nate so close to me again is hard. It’s resurfacing all those horrible feelings I still feel towards him, reminding me how broken my heart still is because of him.

If I don’t turn it down now, I’ll be trapped. It’s not like I can test the waters for a whileand pull out halfway through filming if I don’t like it. That would completely go against my ‘staying professional’ approach. I have to get out of this now.

I sit up straighter as I clear my throat. “Actually, I’m not sure—” My voice halts, but mymouth remains gaped.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Nate, fully hunched over and etching his signatureonto the dotted line. I watch him as he finishes writing with such ease, clicking his pen shut and placing it neatly next to the contract before settling back into his chair.

How on earth did he sign that so quickly? Why did he sign it that quickly? Does he nothave that feeling of dread in his stomach? Does he truly want to do this?

“Not sure of what, Ms. Moore?” the lady next to me asks.

“Oh… uh.” I’m convinced the boob sweat has officially become visible now.“I’m not sure… that my pen works.”

And the Oscar goes too.

As the rest of the table scrambles to find a pen to replace the perfectly good one in myhand, I feel Nate shuffle next to me, causing my head to softly tilt in his direction. Wishing now that I didn’t.

“Have mine,” he insists, like he somehow knows the one in my hand works just fine.

Like he wants me to stay.

Does he?

A million subtle yet powerful digs and insults hike their way to the tip of my tongue,ready to jab him, but given the situation and the twenty authority figures gawking at us, I refrain. Instead, I reach my hand out for his, and because I’m an idiot, my fingers graze his more than I would have liked, sending electric shocks up my hand and tattooing my arm with goosebumps.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

I try my hardest to avoid making eye contact with him, but I fail, miserably, falling victimto those jaded whirlpools that suck me in, steal my breath and set my cheeks on fire again. I hold his gaze for no longer than a few seconds, all my heart can manage, before stealing the pen from his hands and clicking it on.

If I’m going to sign this, I need to stay focused. I need to remind myself that I love thisjob and I want to grow as an actress. I am so lucky to have this life. I seriously need to invest in anti-sweat tops while I’m listing things off.

But most importantly, I need to remember the thing I told myself three years ago whenNate Patricks walked back into my life, the thing I remind myself every time I catch his eyes or I feel those butterflies take flight in my stomach whenever he’s around, the thing that has kept me from asking him why he never met me on the pier the summer after he left for college, like he promised.

He doesn’t love you anymore, Addy.

“Ms. Moore?”

I sucked in a breath and scribbled my half-assed signature across the dotted line. “Done.”

Chapter two

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