Page 35 of Reckless Storm (San Francisco End Game #3)

Hayley

R eed squeezes my hand as the audience collectively gasps and then smiles when I glance his way.

“They love it,” he mouths, his proud expression penetrating my chest, working to ease a little bit of the tightness.

I now understand why actors try to avoid this.

Watching yourself on the big screen is one thing, but watching yourself with hundreds of people as they judge everything about your performance is another thing entirely.

And if I didn’t have Reed, I’m certain I’d crumble.

He’s the perfect date, the perfect gentleman, the perfect boyfriend—doting, comforting, playful.

He makes me laugh to ease my mind and whispers sweet nothings in my ear, eliciting smiles that I have no doubt will be on the front page of tomorrow’s gossip magazines.

He plays up to the cameras, steps aside when someone asks, and holds my hand when it’s clear that I need it.

He’s playing a part and he’s playing it well.

But more than that, he’s just being him .

The beautiful kind soul that deserves everything in this world. And I couldn’t be more grateful for him.

The credits roll to loud applause, and my heart races as I stand, awed by the reaction, stunned into silence.

“You did it, Hayls.” Reed stands, leaning in close to press a kiss to my hair, while I fight not to cry, which is goddamn impossible when he says things like, “You were fucking phenomenal.”

A proud energy courses through me and I let myself feel it, unsure if I’ll ever get this high again.

This moment is everything, and I couldn’t have picked a better person to share it with.

Our director says a few words, thanking guests for coming, asking them to shout from the rooftops to spread the word about the masterpiece they’ve seen tonight, and to have a good evening.

Then it’s time for the party.

Or at least, it’s time for a tame, elegant, mingling of like-minded individuals that is so far away from my scene we’re on opposite sides of the world. But I’m an actress. I’ve got this.

As we walk, Reed seamlessly slips his hand into mine like we’ve been doing all night, giving me a comforting squeeze. Then he does exactly what he said he would do—he schmoozes, talking me up to anyone that will listen. And there are a lot of people who now want to listen.

“You two make a gorgeous couple. How did you meet?” someone asks, and I internally cringe until Reed takes the reins.

“We met a while back, but I knew I wanted to get to know her better when she was doing her thing at one of the Storm charity events, shining brightly, convincing everyone they needed to dig deep for the cause.” He pauses and my eyes flash to his, a smile on my face while inside, my heart races, threatening to beat out of my chest. “We raised record funds for Parkinson’s Disease research that night,” he continues, leaning in to press another kiss to my head, smiling at the crowd of people that have joined us.

“And honestly, we owe it all to her. She lights up a room wherever she goes, and her heart… Anyway…” He trails off, rolling his eyes playfully as though he’s embarrassed.

“I’m sure you don’t need to know all that. How good was Jaded Beginnings ?”

The conversation moves back to the movie, and just as Reed reassured me on the way here, they loved it.

“I’ve read the book and I’m actually surprised by how true you stayed to the story. It blew me away.”

“Patrick is my hall pass. And until now, he’s only been fictional. But that man…”

“No one else could have played Riley. The way you seamlessly shifted between the lightness and the dark, truly encapsulating all that she believed in, all that she wanted to be. I want to cry again just thinking about it.”

The more praise I receive, the more my heart grows—and my head if I’m being honest—but Reed’s constant support and awe keep my feet locked on the ground, reminding me to stay in the moment. Because before too long, I’ll be on my own again.

Drinks flow and as the night goes on, loose lips take over, prompting Reed to guide me out onto the balcony for a moment of relief. “You’re not allowed to listen to anyone that’s drunk,” he says firmly, his penetrating gaze boring into mine. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dad,” I snark, questioning why I stayed sober myself. “But, you’ve got to—”

“No buts. The last woman got your name wrong. I doubt she was even thinking about the same movie. And none of it’s been bad. They just have that alcohol confidence that makes them suddenly think that they’re experts.”

He’s right that nothing has been overly bad, but I did have a woman tell me that my hair was the wrong kind of blonde for Riley and that my lips weren’t as plump.

I initially laughed it off until I was in the bathroom, glossing my thin lips, questioning my life choices.

Should I get filler? Is that the direction Hollywood is going right now?

Reed groans out loud before sighing incredulously as he pulls me into a side hug. “What are you fixated on?”

“My lips. That posh woman said they weren’t plump enough.”

“What?” he scoffs, faking outrage. “What would she know? They’re plenty plump.”

I stare at him deadpan, folding my arms over my chest. “What would you know?”

“I know plenty. But if you need specifics…I’m a man with eyes. And your lips are delectably plump, the exact amount one would want in a woman.”

I laugh out loud, shoving him away. “God, you’re full of shit.”

“Am I? Shall we ask for a second opinion?”

As if his question summoned a response, the sliding door to the balcony opens and a couple walk out. I smile when Reed bounces his eyebrows, but when I turn to face the couple, I internally groan.

“Ugh. That’s my ex,” I whisper, burying my face in his chest. “Why is he here? And is he with Chelsie Watson?”

Reed spins me around, leaning down to whisper, “I can’t answer that.” He frowns. “But I am curious… Is this the guy that couldn’t find your clit?”

I snort out a laugh before covering my face with my hands. “No.” I shake my head, laughing again as I picture the response if he heard that. He’d riot. “Actually, he’s the one that cheated on me.”

Reed stiffens, but I wave off his concern. I felt shitty about it at the time, but I’ve come to realize it was the best thing to ever happen to me.

“And…he’s coming over. Of course he is. Let’s see if you’re really boyfriend material.” I’m joking because he’s proven he is multiple times tonight, but he plays along.

“Me?” He raises his brows. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” Shifting closer, he presses his lips to my cheek before whispering in my ear, “Be prepared to swoon, Baby. I’ve got this.”

Oh, God.

“Hayley, hi,” my ex Lachy interrupts us before I can respond, and I force an over-the-top grin, thanking him when he congratulates me on the film.

“It’s good to see you,” I lie. “How have you been?”

“I’m good. I’m really good. I’m here with Chelsie Watson. She’s working with your director on Sheridan Shores .” He points behind him toward Chelsie standing over by the railing, as though we’ve been living under a rock and don’t recognise the star of the biggest TV show in the world right now.

I’m desperate to roll my eyes, but when Reed cocks his head to the side, confusion set in his features, I’m proven wrong. He has no idea who she is.

“I love Chelsie,” I say with a smile. “You traded up.” I’m joking but I swear Reed growls from beside me.

“Lachy, this is my boyfriend, Reed. Reed, this is Lachy.”

“Her ex,” Lachy adds with a smirk. “We go way back. From Australia.” I’m sure he expects Reed to get jealous, but Reed shocks him by smiling wide.

“Nice to meet you, Lachy from Australia. As Hayley said, I’m Reed, from America. And we’re going way forward.”

I burst out laughing while Lachy stares at him in confusion before shrugging with a smile.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Little Jackman. And good to meet you, Reed. I better get back to Chelsie. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Good to see you too.”

He walks away but glances back, confusion still marring his features, and I laugh again, turning my face into Reed’s chest, stifling the sound. “That man can act, but he was never the brightest spark.” I wrap my arms around his waist and grin.

“And yet, you dated him.” Reed’s playful tone draws my gaze as he winks.

“Yeah, well. He could do this thing with his—”

Reed’s palm wraps around my mouth and I giggle, raising my hands in question. “Real or fake,” he grates, “I don’t need to hear about another man’s skills.”

“Why? I was only going to tell you about his motorcycle.” I smile innocently and Reed huffs out a laugh.

“Sure you were.”

Feeling significantly better, I agree to head back inside and spend another hour smiling and mingling, posing for photos, answering question after question about what’s next.

Sometimes they ask about my career, a topic I try to avoid while ignoring the pang in my chest, and sometimes it’s my love life––an easier topic with Reed by my side.

It’s a long night, but when it ends, I’m not at all ready to go home.

How could I? I’m high on life and success, however temporary it may be. I need to embrace this feeling.

Mind made up, when Reed walks over with our coats, I let him know there’s a change of plans.

“I want to go dancing.” I squeeze his hand as I bounce on my toes.

“Dancing?” His gaze falls to my six-inch stiletto heels before he cringes. “Are you sure? You’ve been on your feet for hours.”

“And I could easily stand for hours more. I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He laughs to himself. “Come on. Our driver’s waiting. Where do you want to go?”

An idea comes to mind and my smile widens. “I’m not sure yet. But I want to go line dancing.” He eyes me suspiciously, and a laugh bursts out of me before I get the chance to cover my mouth. I’m teasing and he knows it.

“Line dancing?” He keeps a straight face. “Do you know a place?”

“I don’t. Do you?” I raise an eyebrow in question and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Do you have access to a private plane I don’t know about?”

“What? No.”

“Well then, you won’t find anywhere decent here.”

I pause as we reach the car, a giddy feeling swelling inside me. “Reed Coombs, are you a secret cowboy?” I suspected as much, but I’m excited to finally get my answer.

Our driver opens my door as Reed jogs to the other side, hiding his expression until he glances at me over the roof. “I—”

“Wait. Don’t answer that until we’re inside. You can’t lie when I’m looking you in the eye.”

“Sure I can. I lie all the time. And you never guess.”

“Mm-hmm. You’re lying right now.” I don’t think he’s ever been able to lie to me, but still I want to look him in the eyes while he tells me this delicious bit of news.

I climb in awkwardly, lifting my dress to above my knees, and when I turn to Reed he cringes. “Shit. Sorry, I should have helped you in.”

“I’m good. I problem solved.” I point to my dress and Reed’s eyes drop to my now visible thighs before he winces and quickly glances up, lifting his gaze to meet mine.

“I’m a football player,” he deadpans. “Not a cowboy.”

“But you were?” My eyes narrow as I attempt to see the truth in his words.

“I lived near a ranch, if that counts.”

“Oh my God. Yes! I knew it. I knew you had a country twang.”

“I don’t have a twang.”

He turns to face the window, but I grab his arm and stop him from moving. “You have to take me dancing. One day. Please .”

“One day?”

“Yes, one day. To a real cowboy bar.”

Reed stares at me for a moment as if deciding whether or not that’s a good idea, until I press my palms together and beg. “Okay. Deal,” he finally agrees.

“Good. We can go now.”

“Where are we going?” Reed asks warily.

“I’ll know it when I see it. Can you please head toward my place for now?” I ask our driver. “But there might be a stop along the way.”