Page 8 of Tricked by my Ex

“Not at all. I think that you’re protecting your privacy,” he offered so effortlessly that it was as if he had read my mind.

I pursed my lips and gave him a tight nod.

“I get it. Trust me, if anyone understands that concept, it’s me.” His tone lacked the playfulness it’d had moments ago.

He was serious now, and I felt like an even bigger idiot than before. Of course he’d be the one who needed to protect his identity. He was a freaking actor. A man who had little to no privacy in his daily life. And here I was, insinuating that people followed me home and stalked me when they most certainly didn’t.

“Want to know a secret?” he asked, his playful tone returning, and I suddenly found myself extremely interested in what he might confess to me.

“Absolutely.” My excitement took over, and I instinctively leaned a little closer toward his body in case he wanted to whisper it to me.

“I came here tonight, hoping to see my ex-girlfriend.”

That wasn’t at all what I’d expected to hear him say. Granted, I had no earthly idea what I’d thought he’d tell me, but still… that wasn’t it.

“Really?” I reared my head back in shock. “Is she here?”

“She is.”

“And?” I asked, desperate to know every morsel he was willing to divulge to me. I felt almost relieved that he wasn’t hitting on me. Knowing that he was here for his ex relaxed the abnormal defensive wall I’d put up. “Does she know you’re here? Have you talked to her yet? Did you mess things up with her?”

That smile that I could only see a tiny part of returned. Chills raced down my spine, the spark of familiarity returning, but I shook it off.

“I definitely messed things up,” was all he said, his voice wistful and sad.

“Of course you did,” I said before I could stop the words from tumbling out of my lips. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. That was mean.” I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep it shut.

“That was mean,” he agreed.

I lowered my hand slowly. “It’s not you. I’ve got issues with actors,” I explained, as if that made what I’d just said perfectly okay.

“I gathered as much. Care to tell me why?”

“Not really,” I said with a shrug, the fog machine spitting out a thick layer of mist between us. “I like hearing your story better.”

IT’S HER

TYSON

Eve was not going to give me an inch. I’d have to play this a different way and tell her about me and my ex instead. At least she seemed interested in talking to me when I was the one spilling secrets. Before that, she couldn’t have cared less about what came out of my mouth. I honestly respected that she had refused to tell a perfect stranger personal things about her life, but that didn’t stop me from wishing she would spill her guts and confess all her innermost thoughts to me.

The moment I had seen her tonight, I’d almost lost my breath. I’d recognize her anywhere. Even if she wore a costume that hid her entire body from head to toe—the way that I was wearing mine—I’d still know it was her. The curve of her back, the way her hips moved when she walked. Everything about Eve was distinct and solely…her. My heart physically ached at the sight.

It had been years since I’d last seen her in the flesh. Years since I’d left her behind. Acting was fulfilling, and I planned on doing it for as long as I could, but breaking up with Eve in order to begin my career had been a mistake.

I’d never realized at the time that I could have both. Idiotic and selfish young me thought I needed to be single and free in order to chase my dreams and pursue my passion. My agent had planted the idea in my head, and I stupidly assumed she was right. There would be no one else to think of, no one to hurt, and work could be my number one priority and focus. Apparently, significant others held you back. At least, that was what I’d been told, and it had made sense at the time.

But I missed Eve every damn day. My best friend was gone. The one person I’d confessed everything to. The only person who had fought with and for me and seen me for who I truly was.

I’d upped and left her behind.

And now, here I was, staring at her like some silent stalker in movie-grade makeup so she wouldn’t recognize me. I was even wearing contacts in order to change the shade of my eyes, not that she could really see them in the dark anyway. Eve could pick them out of a lineup. She used to always tell me that. Something about the yellow specks in all the brown that reminded her of stars in the night sky.

So, contacts it was. Not to mention, the accent. I’d been working on it for a part anyway, so I’d figured I’d keep up the act. I definitely needed the practice. And I needed to see her. Was in LA to film and knew she’d never agree to meet me, so I pulled a few strings and found out her latest client was having a party, and here we were. I’d met Greg once before at an industry event, but it wasn’t like we were close friends or anything.

I was sitting down on the bench next to her, dying to take her in my arms and hold her again. I would give up everything in that moment just to fucking touch her and have her not recoil. It was killing me to keep my hands to myself. Her skin looked even softer than it used to. Her blonde hair was longer. There were subtle changes to my girl. She’d become a woman in the time we’d been apart. I should have known she’d grow even more beautiful instead of the opposite.

Eve had belonged to me once, all those years ago, but I still belonged to her now. Only problem was, she didn’t know it.