We talk, laugh, and sing along to the radio the rest of the way there. I almost feel like my old self. I almost feel happy.

Almost.

But when she parks in the ER parking lot and gets out to run the cash in, I smell smoke. I squeeze my eyes shut and dig my nails into the leather seat of her Honda Accord. I’m not in the barn. I’m not on fire. My scars hurt and the heat is too much to take. When I open my eyes, I see flames.

Suddenly I can’t breathe, and the seatbelt across my chest is constricting. I yank on it, panicking when it doesn’t come loose. Fear takes over and I need out. I gasp but don’t get any air. Smoke fills my lungs.

Haley! Mom’s voice cuts through the darkness. Get her out of here!

Tears fill my eyes and finally I get the seatbelt free. I get out of the car, gasping for breath. I take off, getting away from the flames. It’s so hot, so painful. The flames rise up, taunting me.

Haley!

“Mom!” I cry out. I’m still running. I turn around to see how close the fire is. Then I bump into something and fall to the ground.

A car alarm goes off, and I’m jolted back to the here and now. Pain sears at the palms of my hands; they tore open on the pavement when I fell. I hold them up and look at the little droplets of blood that are pooling on the surface of my skin.

I blink and take in a sharp breath. I’m in the hospital parking lot. There is no fire. Mom is not calling to me. A tear runs down my cheek. I hold on to the bumper of the SUV I ran into and shakily get onto my feet. Heels click as I hurry back to the car. I need to get my phone, call Lori, and tell her I need her. Now. And maybe I really do need those pills.

I pull back on the door of her car. It’s locked. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” At least she had the keys. I toss my head back and look up at the stars. “Do you think this is funny? Seriously, why? Why me?” I shake my head. “I’ll never know, because you’ll never fucking tell me, because you’re not real!” I shout to the heavens. I put my head in my hands and wince at the pain.

Right. I had gotten cut. Sighing, I start toward the hospital doors, knowing I should wash the nasty parking lot grime off before it gets infected. I keep my head down as I walk, not wanting to deal with anyone. I freeze outside the doors that lead into the ER waiting room, the only way into the hospital this late. My breath catches, and I’m in the middle of the fire again.

The last time I was in the hospital was after that night. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m frozen in place and the fire comes closer and closer. The heat hurts and I close my eyes, ready to embrace it and let it take me.

The doors slide open, but I can hardly hear the footsteps over the roar of the flames.

“Haley?”

The accented voice is deep, calm, and familiar. I open my eyes. I never expected this.

“Aiden.” His name slips through my lips, and I look into his dark eyes before I have a chance to process what’s happening. I’m shaking, still able to smell the smoke that clings to my body, and bleeding.

“Are you all right?” he asks, and he moves toward me, limping slightly. His dark hair is pushed back out of his face, and he’s wearing Wranglers and a flannel shirt. He looks so different from how I’m used to seeing him—well, seeing him on TV, that is.

“Yeah,” I say right away. “Are you?”

Our eyes meet and that same feeling goes through me, like he can see deep down inside me, past the makeup and the dress, past the façade I’ve put up, knocking down walls and staring right at my dark and broken heart.

I want to run away.

“I’ll live,” he says. “Twisted my ankle on set today. I didn’t want to come here, but you know, insurance and all that shit. I had to make sure it wasn’t broken. It’s not even sprained. Just sore.”

“That’s good,” I say, pushing my hair back.

His eyebrows push together and he reaches out, taking my hand. The moment our skin touches, I shiver. “You’re bleeding.” Carefully, he brings my hand to him, flipping it over. “And you said you’re all right.” His eyes run over me, as if he’s just now realizing I’m dressed like I belong on a street corner. A smile pulls up his lips and his eyes sparkle. “I’m guessing you have an interesting story to go with this.”

I see the redheaded woman he’s with cross her arms and stare at us. She checks the time on her phone and sighs. I smile back at Aiden. “No, I really don’t.” Unless he considers freaking the fuck out and reliving the worst moment of my life over and over interesting. “And I really am okay. My friend had to bring her boyfriend something.” I tip my head. “He works here. I, uh, fell and came in to wash the blood off my hands.”

Aiden just looks at me, eyes hovering over my breasts before coming back to my face. “I wasn’t sure if it was you,” he says. “They gave me a shot of pain medicine. Nothing too strong, but strong enough to make me feel a little out of it.” His fingers sweep over mine and he drops my hand. “You look good.”

I stop smelling smoke. The fire in my mind is reduced to ashes just by talking to Aiden. The ER buzzes to life around me. “Thanks. And you look…” I take my time looking him over. The jeans are tight in all the right places. He has on a western belt, hidden behind the untucked plaid shirt. His look is complete with cowboy boots and spurs. “Different.”

He laughs and rakes his fingers through his hair, messing it up. “Tell me about it.”

My gaze lingers on his boots. “Your spurs are upside down.”

He looks down at his feet. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah.” The spurs are long and sliver, with a gold wheel at the end. They’re the kind of spurs I hate, the kind that border on abusive. Oh, Hollywood…do some fucking research once in a while instead of going with what looks good.

“Thanks,” he says, and he lifts his foot up for a better look. “How can you tell?”

I laugh. “I don’t know how you can not tell.”

The woman puts her phone in her purse and comes over. “What are you doing, Aiden? You have to get back. You need off your ankle.” Her eyes flick to me, full of judgment. It confuses me for a millisecond, then I remember what I’m wearing. I guess I can’t blame her. I look like the typical Hollywood fangirl whore.

“The spurs are upside down,” he tells her. The woman looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Haley told me.”

Her eyes move back to mine and she purses her lips. “And you’re taking her advice because…?”

“Because she knows horses,” he says.

“Wait, you’re Haley?” the woman asks like she knows me. I just nod, unsure of exactly what’s going on. “Oh, oh! Haley, the reporter.”

“That’s me.”

She flashes Aiden a look that says, You better behave, and leaves, telling him she’s going to get the car.

“Your hands,” he says suddenly. “You should go see someone about it.” He beckons to the ER. We are still in the vestibule, the little covered section that closes us off from the night but keeps us from the actual waiting room.

“No,” I say. I am just scraped up, and even if it’s bad, I’m only going to the ER if it’s life or death. I’m still paying off my medical bills from the fire. “Really, just some soap and water is good enough.”

He takes a step forward and the interior doors slide open. The attendant behind the desk is watching us. Thank God for HIPAA laws.

“You don’t have to come with me,” I say, and a bit of hurt flashes over his face. “I mean, you should be resting, right? You probably have a lot of filming to do.”

He shrugs. “You know I had three broken fingers for the first half of shooting the last season of Shadowland, right?”

My curls sway around my face when I shake my head. “No, I didn’t know that. You couldn’t tell at all.”

He smiles, and I’m a goner when he does. “That’s a compliment.”

We walk in silence through the waiting room, and he leans against a wall when I go into the bathroom. The cuts burn as I rub soap over them, picking out the little pieces of gravel from under my skin. I like the pain. It reminds me that I’m alive.