I wouldn’t look back.

I wouldn’t feel guilt.

I would trust him completely.

The old Amelia died with Esther … and I could live with that.

Chapter Two

Noah

I wasn’t sure what she expected to see when we stepped out of our bedroom. Last night, I was able to take her mind off of things easily because she so badly wanted to forget. But this morning, stepping out into the very room her mother had died in, I wasn’t sure how she would react to the fact that it looked like it had never even happened. The broken vase, table, the lamp, the paintings—all of it was gone and replaced with replicas. Even more striking was Austin, dressed in a tan suit and green bow tie, standing in the very spot Esther’s body had been only hours ago and talking casually on the phone. He leaned against the couch as if even he didn’t realize where he was standing.

“Amelia, Oliver wanted me to tell you that he will meet you on set.” He glanced up at us and nodded over to the table where a light breakfast and coffee were waiting.

She nodded, but didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

Her blue eyes focused on me, staring at me with shock and confusion. I knew she wanted to know how. But I prayed she didn’t ask.

“Nothing. Sorry, I just spaced out for a second.” She forced a smile and then walked over to the table, reaching for a bagel along with the pink script for the morning.

“Oliver called you this morning?” I questioned when Austin stepped closer to me, his back to her.

“Apparently he quit last night.”

“He what?” Hell must have frozen over.

“I’m not sure what happened, but I’m guessing it was before our other issue.” He paused before speaking again. “Neither of you should have stayed here last night.”

“Where else could we have gone?” She couldn’t have left in her state, and certainly not before the room had been cleaned.

He sighed, knowing I was right. “You need to remember, Noah—she isn’t like you. She grew up like a princess, the daughter of a star, and then became a star in her own right. But you, no matter how long you’ve lived as a celebrity, will always be from the Southbend.”

My jaw and fists tensed at what he was implying. The Southbend, the Chicago slums, the trailer parks, the dogs, my good ol’ hometown, where you couldn’t throw a stone without hitting a dealer, stripper, thief, murderer, or the person they murdered. There were two Noah Sloans: one who grew up watching Frank beat the shit out of men with tire irons for simply looking at him the wrong way, and then there was the Noah Sloan—the actor. I had spent my life trying to keep them separate, and now they were colliding faster than I could grasp.

“I’m not trying to piss you off.” He grabbed my arm, drawing my attention. “I’m just trying to remind you that the way you see the world may be different than how she does. To you, this is another skeleton in the closet. To her, the world has flipped on its head.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“Noah—”

“I know her.”

“You knew her … years ago.”

 “No,” I sneered, not looking away from him. “I. Know. Her. Everyone tries to treat her like glass, like she is someone who has to be managed, but she’s stronger than you think. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have called me last night.”

In that one split moment, she made a choice. She was good person. She tried to do the right thing. But at the end of the day, she still called me.

“Guys,” Amelia called out, and both of our heads snapped to her. She didn’t look away from the script in her hand. “I’m trying my best to pretend like you aren’t talking about me, but I’m really not that dumb, so …”

Smirking, I walked away from him.

“So?” I questioned, grabbing a bagel from the table and taking a seat directly in front of her.

“So talk to me, not about me, because there are a lot of things I can take from you, but doubt is not one. Not now. Not ever. We all make choices, and I made mine a long time ago. You. Beginning. End. It is always you. I do not ask for absolution. I do not call myself a good person. Everything you are—jaded, controlling, ruthless—I am, too. I know nothing but for the fact that I am yours, so you. Can’t. Doubt. Me. And you sure as hell can’t look at me with anything other than unreasonable, undeniable, borderline obsessive love.” She stared at me so intensely, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I couldn’t fight the grin spreading over my face the more I stared at her.

She too smiled and turned the script to me. “You’ve got to hand it to Blair—she sure knows how to keep her man in line.”

“Taking notes?” I asked.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not even a little bit.” I didn’t care that it came from the script. The fact that she said it right when I wanted to hear it was all I needed. It reminded me of when we were younger—no matter who our parents were or where we came from, when it came to each other, we could always find the same page.

This. Us. Everything would work.

I smiled.

And she smiled.

Then Austin had to fuck everything up by speaking. “Noah, he’s not leaving the lobby.”

“Who?” Amelia asked, glancing between us.

Rising from the chair, I got up and kissed the side of her head. “Finish eating. I’ll meet you at the car.”

“Noah?”

I didn’t answer, just took my leather jacket and walked to the door. The less she knew about Bo, the better off she was. However, I didn’t even make it a step out the suite. The moment I opened the door, there was Bo, grinning with a toothpick his mouth.

He’s an idiot was the first thing crossed my mind.

“’Sup, lil’ bro.”

Pushing him back, I slammed the door shut behind me.

“Noah—”

I held my hand to his face, glancing at the cameras in the hall before nodding toward the emergency stairs.

“I know you’re—” Bo started.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” I hollered, grabbing his shirt and throwing him up against the wall. “You do not come to me unless I call for you, Bo. That is the deal!”

“Am I your fucking brother or your dog?”

 “YOU ARE…” Taking a deep breath, I released my grip on him and took a step back. I wanted to beat the shit out of him, but instead kept breathing through my nose.

“I ain’t dumb, alright! I know the goddamn deal—”

“Then why are you here, Bo?”

He stared back at me, his eyes wide. “So that’s how it is? You call me when you need something, I do everything you fuckin’ ask, and now you ain’t even gonna give me the time of day? What, you too good for us now? You come home and you can’t even stop by? Did your fucking manager tell you I got a kid now? Six months old. She ain’t even seen her uncle’s face besides the news. We’re family, Noah, and you can walk around with your fancy clothes, your millionaire friends, and your hot-shot girlfriend, but you can’t change the fact that you’re a Sloan.”

“We need to make some things clear,” I said, stepping up to him. “First of all, you don’t wanna know how much it cost me to give you the time of fucking day. You can’t afford it. Secondly, yeah, that’s how it is. That’s how it’s always been. Except it’s me who is always doing the goddamn favor for you. Third, your baby girl? Katie? Who paid her bills when she was in the NICU ‘cause her mother couldn’t go nine months without shooting up? Hell, I paid for both of their bills, the house you live in, and the debt you racked up at the Horseshoe so many damn times they’ve named a table after me! You might not see me, but you sure as hell always see my money.”

“Bro, I—”

“I’m not finished!” I sneered. He looked to the side, fingering the toothpick in his mouth. “Fourth, and most importantly, I got the same friends you got, and they like me much better. I don’t want to fight with you, but don’t you dare step in my face and act like I somehow forgot what my goddamn last name was!”