Page 50 of Where the Little Birds Go (Little Bird Duet 1)

Her breath catches and I feel it ricochet off the heel of my palm. In my chest is the quickening pace of a heartbeat that hasn’t moved so desperately in a long time. Not since a girl with the strangest colored hair showed me the school, became my friend, and then my biggest regret.

Not one audition has allowed me to feel the anticipation that having her in my hold has given me in mere seconds. Warm flesh, hot breath, thick emotion.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, before bending down and brushing my lips over hers. It’s the softest touch, the sweetest torture, and before I can deepen it like my hardening cock wants to, I’m being shoved away and slapped with a force that leaves my cheek stinging and my vision doubled before regaining reality.

Tears spill down Kinley’s cheeks when I finally blink away the shock of what just happened, and everything I felt from her nearness melts into the heaviest guilt.

But nothing matches the feelings that cement in my chest when she opens her mouth and spits out, “I hate you for making me like this. Weak. Angry. Second best. Like I somehow deserve this.”

Red face to match her bloodshot eyes, she backs away and touches her lips before choking out a sob that has me frozen to my spot.

“It doesn’t matter that you and your wife decided not to work it out, Corbin. The world thinks you’re some happy couple. People on this lot think we’re strangers who met to put something heartbreakingly beautiful on the big screen. We’re fooling everyone and torturing ourselves with what-if.”

“It doesn’t have to be—”

“Yes, it does!” She clenches her hands into fists by her sides and blows out a deep breath while staring at me. “Who are you trying to kid? Do you really think we can go back to pretending like we can attend each other’s formal events together like nobody would question it? Men and women can’t be friends in your industry without everyone picking them apart. You may be used to that lifestyle, but I’m not. And you damn well know that we’re not just friends. Once upon a time we were, but we’ll never get that back.”

I step toward her, running my palms down my thighs. “If that’s what you want, we can make it work. We promised each other the Oscars and RITA Awards, remember? I do. You’d wear a long black dress with a slit up the leg and matching flats because heels make you too unsteady. I’d wear a black tuxedo and a silver tie because it matches my eyes and we’d have a great time. We can be those people again.”

“I don’t want to be,” she whispers. She shakes her head and backs closer to the door. “I don’t want to remember what it was like to have my hopes up just to get hurt so badly.”

“It won’t … it’ll be different.”

“You’re right.” She looks down. “It’ll be so much worse next time. You want to know why Beck chose Ian? Why she let him put a ring on her finger instead of Ryker? It’s simple. We settle because we’re afraid the love that’s meant for us will destroy us completely.”

This time, I have nothing to offer her. No words, no gestures, no argument that says differently. She told me once that she loved how authors’ minds worked because they told a truth that nobody wants to hear. Life, love, everything can shatter you in an instant, but writers find a way to make it sound like the perfect way to go.

When she all but bolts out of my trailer, I realize one thing is for certain. If nothing had changed before, everything has now. Any shred of hope to rekindle a friendship with the girl I once considered the only special person in my life, is long gone.

Chapter Seventeen

Kinley / Present

My tired eyes burn the longer I go through the notes littering my manuscript in front of me. The red ink is everywhere, circling words, and crossing out sentences. The slightest tension in the back of my neck has me dropping my pen onto the bed and massaging the base of my skull.

Sliding off the mattress, I go to my purse and dig through it until the bottle I’m looking for is in my hand. When I see it’s empty, I groan and look at the time on the alarm clock by the bed.

Considering where I am, there’s no doubt I could find a store to buy medicine this time of night. Anything to ease the pain quickly forming in my temples.

Trying to Google places in walking distance has me more confused than anything, so I slip into the clothes I wore today and walk downstairs to the front desk.

The older gentleman working the night shift looks up from the computer and smiles at me. “Ms. Thomas. How can I help you?”

I grip my purse and note his nametag. “Is there a drugstore nearby that sells Motrin, Matt? Or a convenience store I can walk to?”

He hesitates before standing straighter. “I would suggest not walking anywhere this time of night on your own. However, I can call a car or even get someone to fetch the medication for you.”

I blink. What? “No, that’s okay. I can get it myself. If you can just give me an address or tell me how to get there…”

He nods once and clicks a few times on the computer before jotting an address down on hotel stationary. “If I may, there is another option to get there that’s safer.”

Before he can say what it is, someone calls my name. The man behind the desk nods once with a faint smile on his face as he turns back to whatever he was working on before I came down.

“What are you doing here?” My greeting isn’t friendly, but it could be ruder given our present company.

Corbin stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I was trying to gather the courage to talk to you. To be honest, I was just getting ready to leave.”

“Good,” slips out before I can stop it.

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