Page 141 of Reckless Hearts

I lean in, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “Well, there was that one scene where I had to cry on cue.”

“And how did you manage that?” Cassie asked.

“Let’s just say I had to channel my feelings about the Lakers’ last season.”

“Brutal.” Cassie winces sympathetically. “One last question—you’re often described as Mr. Well Behaved in the tabloids. What’s your secret to staying so grounded in this crazy industry?”

For a split second, Seb’s face flashes in my mind.

Seb, who has shown me what unconditional support really means. Seb, who has been the one constant in my life, the one person who sees past the Hollywood façade to the real me beneath.

Which is why I had to tell him the truth about my family. After telling him I didn’t want him to love me, I had no choice but to tell him why.

I trust Seb. I trust him more than anyone else in my life.

And while one small voice whispers in my head that his recent withdrawal is because he’s disgusted over finding out the person I really am, the other, more sensible part knows that is not true.

Seb has always just been so authentically himself. He has no pretenses. And when I was telling him about my mother and sister, there was nothing but compassion and understanding in his eyes.

The problem between us stems from him wanting to help me and me not letting him.

I shut him down when he suggests I go to therapy.

I can’t dig everything up. I’m coping just fine.

But every time I swallow another pill, I see Seb’s face. His worried eyes haunt me.

Fuck.

I suddenly realize Cassie is waiting for me to reply.

“The way I stay grounded is by surrounding myself with people who aren’t afraid to tell me when I’m being a diva. Plus, I make sure to trip on at least one red carpet a year. Keeps me humble.”

Cassie laughs. “Well, here’s hoping you make it down the red carpet okay tonight.”

I give her a wink. “I can but try.”

I saunter away from Cassie into the next interview, where a boyish reporter fromEntertainment Tonightis practically vibrating with excitement.

It’s the same charming smile, the same frivolous conversation.

Panic grows inside me as I keep my grin plastered on. A tightness in my chest threatens to suffocate me, my designer tux suddenly feeling like a straitjacket.

When I get inside the theater, I head straight to the restroom. My hand shaking, I pull an inconspicuous vial from my inner pocket.

It’s a gift from Jake, ketamine in the form of a white powder.

I lean over to sniff it, the sharp, chemical scent burning my nostrils as I inhale deeply.

It soothes my nerves, a warm numbness spreading through my body, pushing the panic to the background.

Seb’s concerned face is in my mind again as I stash the vial in my pocket. But I don’t have a dangerous habit. I have an incredibly demanding career. No one could be expected to cope without some artificial help.

The theater is already buzzing when I enter. The plush velvet of my seat feels surreal, the faces around me blurring into a sea of expectant smiles. Jake materializes beside me, his hand squeezing my shoulder.

“This is your night, kid,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. “That award has your name on it.”

Fuck, I hope he’s right.