Page 132 of Dream On

“Did he tell you any stories?” I swallow down another sip. “About us?”

Her lips pucker with thought. “Not really. He wasn’t exactly chatty or forthcoming about your personal history. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure what was real and what was made up for the story.” She hesitates. “Was the accident real? Were you really in a coma?”

My cheeks heat. “There was an accident, yes. The details surrounding it were embellished, and I was never in a coma. My leg was broken. I had a few follow-up knee surgeries.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m glad you’ve made a full recovery.”

I nod, biting my lip. “You two had great chemistry on-screen.”

Her gaze floats over my shoulder to where Lex stands, caught in conversation. “Yes, well, he’s a master at his craft. We didn’t spend much time together off set, but filming with him will always be a highlight of my career. He’s truly gifted. One of the greats.”

I turn around to face him as I stand shoulder to shoulder with Willa—real me mirroring the actress who played me. Lex glances around the club, his eyes dancing from face to face, until his attention lands on the two of us watching him from afar. A small smile flickers on his lips, but I can’t tell who he’s looking at.

“Well, it was so nice to meet you, Stevie.” Willa places a warm hand on myupper arm. “I hope you enjoy the party.”

“Likewise,” I murmur, and we share a smile before she sashays away, headed toward Lex and a few other men in suits.

My eyes linger in their direction.

Willa approaches him, then lifts on her tiptoes to give him a hug, followed by a light peck on the cheek. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, hugging her back, his eyes light and playful.

An ache pinches me between the ribs. They’re so glamorous together, a true Hollywood pair. I suddenly feel out of place. Small and vulnerable, itchy in my own skin.

But then Lex glances up, ushers me toward them.

Downing the rest of my champagne, I discard the empty glass, gather the fabric of my skirt, and make my way over to the group.

“Hey,” he says, smile still in place. He reaches for my hand and tugs me closer until I’m flush against him. “I missed you.”

His gaze dips to my chest, to the low-cut bodice pushing up the swell of my breasts. The trim is adorned with tiny, hand-sewn beads that catch and reflect like stars.

One slow blink and his eyes are back on mine, darkening and hooded. A swallow works his throat as he murmurs, “You look nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Your dress…” Another quick flick of his eyes. “It’s good.”

I can’t help the genuine smile that blooms, not for the cameras and not for the crowd. Simply because Lex likes my dress and that makes me smile.

I lean into him. My eyes flutter closed as I press my cheek to his chest, to the space where his heart beats. Warmth and comfort. It’s like a switch flipped, the stab of insecurity long forgotten, and I’m at peace.

Exactly where I’m meant to be.

This isn’t real, Stevie.

But in this dark room with pulsing, colorful lights and his arms lifting to wrap around me, pulling me even closer, reality bends. It wobbles, blurs, and cracks. His words are just lines, the kiss he presses to the top of my head a top-notch performance, but the way my heart pounds in response is real. It thumpsthe same beats it did last week outside Maverick’s studio and on that stage, when his mouth met mine and everything around us melted away.

This. Isn’t. Real.

Terror sneaks its way inside me.

Confusion. Panic.

I shouldn’t feel this safe with him.

But…I do.

The thought gnaws at the edges of my mind, jeopardizing the walls I’ve built to keep him at a distance. My breath hitches as his hand slides up my back, fingers splaying out to hold me tighter, like he’s afraid I might slip away. And maybe I should. Maybe I should step back, break free before this illusion becomes something I can’t escape from.