I guess she wasn’t coming back to my hotel then. Dammit. She looks so hot; just thinking about undressing her makes me start to get hard. I blink the thoughts of her naked away. I can’t let my brain wander past that, though the harder I try to not think about it, the more I find myself wondering what she feels like.

“What do you feed a baby horse?” I blurt, needing to stop thinking about laying Haley down and slowly stripping her clothes off. Milk, plonker, that’s what all babies eat.

“A mixture of special formula and cow’s milk. Goat’s milk is better, but it’s super expensive,” she says, then she looks embarrassed to bring up money. What’s expensive to her isn’t to me. I haven’t always had a lot of money. I can still understand, and still feel the stress of not having enough. I remember the twisted knot that formed in my stomach when I had to scramble to pay bills.

“And you feed her a few times a day?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Try a few times an hour.”

“Ouch.”

She shrugs and wraps her arms around herself. “It’s what has to be done. Hopefully she’ll be able to drink from a bucket or I can hang bottles in her stall. And really, I worry about her getting depressed from missing her mom more than anything. Foals like to be snuggled. I’ve been holding her all day, and I’m sure I will tomorrow.” She sighs. “Hopefully she’ll adjust. I can’t miss that many days of work.”

“You take off work to take care of your horses?” I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but I’m surprised by her devotion.

“Someone has to.”

“That’s kind of amazing,” I say, and she blushes. We look at each other, unmoving, for a few seconds. The silence is growing awkward. Why did I come inside? This is weird, just standing here. Where is our scene break? Where are the writers to move this along, to make something happen, and get us out of just fucking standing here?

Something bangs and scratches on the front door, causing me to jump.

“It’s Chrissy,” she tells me, and she walks off to let the dog in. I take the time to look around the kitchen. Besides the various bottles on the counter, it’s clean but cluttered. It feels so homey, so real. I lean against the island counter and cross my arms, grinding my teeth. I start to feel like myself, my real self. I close my eyes and push the darkness away. What the fuck was my problem today? Some days are worse than others, some days I don’t want to get out of bed. Some days I feel so numb I want to hurt myself just to feel. Fuck. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. Not again. I have to be the version of Aiden people expect. I have to believe in him enough I feel it.

Chrissy comes running through the house, wildly greeting me again. I kneel down and pet her, long black fur catching on my fingers.

“So,” Haley says. “Should we go?”

Bloody hell, yes, get me out of here. “Yeah.” Though really, we had a long drive ahead of us. The last time I took a chick on a long drive, she sucked my dick—twice—and I got pulled over for speeding. I got out of the ticket by giving the cop my autograph and taking a picture for his son, who was a huge Shadowland fan.

None of that would work on Haley.

She tosses a treat to Chrissy, grabs her purse, and leads the way out. The barn is close to the house. I can hear country music softly playing inside, and yellow light spills over the half doors. The same white horse that whinnied to me earlier sticks his head out and calls to Haley.

I watch her look at him and see the smile on her face. She slows and relaxes at the sight of him. I don’t get it. There is nothing relaxing about horses at all. They kind of scare me, to be honest. They’re big with a mind of their own. Even something as well trained as Rusty, the horse I ride on set, can spook and dump me.

I open the car door for Haley.

“Thanks,” she says as she slides in. I’m still not used to being on opposite sides, and sometimes find myself drifting into the wrong lane out of habit. Americans are weird. I dash around and get in, firing up the engine and turning down the radio I left blaring. I already have the address in the GPS, ready to give me directions. I back up and turn around in the long, L-shaped driveway.

“What happened to the baby’s mum?” I ask then immediately regret my words. Haley stiffens and closes her eyes. She doesn’t know I know about the fire, and there isn’t a good way to bring it up. I can’t turn to her and say, “Hey, I Googled you and read about the accident.”

“Nothing bad,” she says quietly. “She’s a nurse mane foal. The mom was bred for the milk, not for the baby.”

I turn my head in question. “I’m not following.”

“The milk is given to a show horse, and the baby is literally thrown away. This little girl was pulled out of the manure pile”

My mouth gapes a little. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately. It’s not that uncommon either.”

My heart feels cold. “I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t. But it’s usually easy to find a home for the foal once their story gets out. As long as we get to them in time, they don’t have physical issues like a lot of our rescues do.”

“Is it hard to place horses with physical issues?”

She nods. “Sometimes it means they can’t be ridden at all, or are only suitable for light riding. And the upkeep for a special needs horse is expensive. And people don’t want something damaged.”

Damaged.

No, people don’t want something damaged. I know first hand. There is sadness in her voice, but her face is set, showing no emotion. I drum my fingers on the wheel. The air between us is getting awkward—again. I feel compelled to say something.

“So, you’re a fan of Shadowland?”

She nods but gives me a sideways glance. “Yeah. I really like the show. I’d have friends over every Sunday while I was in college. We’d take shots every time someone died. Usually, we were drunk halfway through the episode.”

I feel like the actor everyone thinks I am. “Did you ever think you’d be going out with someone from the cast of the show? I bet your friends would shit themselves if they found out.”

She raises her eyebrows and looks out the window. “Uh, yeah. This isn’t how I thought my life would go.”

I speed around a turn and consider driving off the hillside. Anything to end this awkward conversation. A few miles pass in silence. Then she turns to me.

“Do you really want to go to some fancy restaurant and deal with all those people?”

“I don’t mind,” I tell her. “I like taking pictures with people and signing shit.”

“Really?” she asks and twists.

“Really,” I say. “It’s nice to know people like me and what I’m doing. I would be nothing without the fans.”

“Is that what you say in every interview?” she asks flatly.

I find myself smiling. I take my eyes off the road and look at her. “You really want to know? It can get annoying. Not having people tell me they’re fans or they love the show, because I really do like hearing that. And anyone who says they don’t is a damn liar. It’d be like you saying you didn’t want to hear people say they think you’re pretty or smart. Yeah, maybe you think it sounds vain, but we’re fucking humans. We like that kind of flattery.”

I glance at her again. She’s leaning back, head tipped just a bit as she looks at me. “What annoys me is having to smile and act happy when I just want to leave the gym and shower. Sometimes I just want to get my shit done and go home.”

She smiles. “What do you want to do right now?”

“Eat,” I say and smile back. “I’m hungry.”

“We could go somewhere else.”

“We can go anywhere you want, but it doesn’t really stop the problem.”

Her smile widens. “The place I have in mind can avoid that. Most of the people there don’t have TV, let alone prime channels.”

I don’t have to think about it. My eyes meet hers. “Yes, I’d like that.” I have a moment of panic. I’m pushing myself further away from my comfort zone, further away from the façade I desperately cling to. But I’m with Haley, and for some reason, she makes everything all right.