I answer at the last minute, curious to why he’s calling me on my day off. “Hello?” I mumble.

“Haley!” he exclaims. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” I push up on my elbows and run my hand through my messy hair.

“Great! You’re never gonna guess what I got for you!”

A way to fall back asleep and give me back the lost time you’re taking from me? “What?”

“Aiden Shepherd.”

The image of the handsome actor flashes through my mind. I know him from Shadowland, one of my favorite shows. He was recently in a Batman movie that I intended on seeing, not because I was a huge Batman fan, but because I wanted to look at his face—and his abs. He was often shirtless. Tall, muscular, with wavy dark hair and deep eyes, Aiden rightly earned the title of this year’s sexiest actor. According to GQ, that is. I whole-heartedly agree.

“You got him for me?” I blurt, too tired to think logically.

“Not really,” he laughs. “I got you an interview with him.”

I sit up. Me, interviewing Aiden fucking Shepherd. Am I still dreaming? “What?”

“An interview,” he repeats.

“Over the phone, right?”

“No, in person…and it’s in two hours.”

All I can think about is Aiden’s glorious performance in the season finale of Shadowland. His character was left hanging, and I mean literally. It upset me for days, not knowing if Gavin was dead or alive. Oh my God! I could ask him!

“Wait,” I stammer as the rest of Weebly’s words hit me. “Two hours?”

“Yeah. The Billings Post had something set up but had to cancel at the last minute. Aiden’s people said we could take the slot. I’ve been asking for weeks.” Weeks? Was I missing something? Why was Aiden here? “I know you’re new, kid,” he says. “But you’re the pretty—you’re the best for the interview. Can you get to Lily’s Café in Billings by nine thirty?”

“Yes,” I say, because I want this interview. If I rock it, maybe I’ll be able to pick my next topic to write about. “I can.”

“Great. I emailed you a list of questions to go off of. Let me know how it goes. This is going to be great for our press!”

I hang up and swing my legs over the bed, thinking of all the times I’ve fangirled over Aiden. And then the panic sets in. I haven’t watched TV, haven’t spent countless hours on Tumblr looking at GIFs of him taking off his shirt, smiling, or seductively raising one eyebrow like I used to. I’ve lost touch with the world over the last couple months. Getting up and out of bed is enough of a feat for me. I haven’t even thought about keeping up with TV or celebrity gossip.

Then I look at the clock. Lily’s Café is in Billings, which is almost an hour drive. Fuck. I need to get dressed, let Chrissy out, feed the horses, and leave in under an hour. That’s not going to work. I stand up but don’t move, even though I should be running. Where do I start? I don’t have time to shower.

Fuck. My heart starts to race. Clothes, Haley. Put on some clothes. I stumble toward the closet, flicking on the light. Nothing I have is good enough, and I have no idea what to wear. Lily’s Café is a hip, modern coffee house with indie bands playing on weekends and locally painted (and expensive) art always for sale and hanging on the walls. Do I need to dress up in business attire since this is work? Or can I get away with something more casual?

I still haven’t bulked up my wardrobe to what it should be. I have all my clothes from college, which means an endless supply of jeans, yoga pants, hooded sweatshirts, and comfy t-shirts. I have my “bar clothes” that I wouldn’t dare wear anymore with the burns on my shoulder and my side, stretching from my ribs down to my hip. And the majority of my closet if filled with barn jeans, breaches, and shirts with horses printed on the front. Nothing appropriated to wear when talking to Aiden. Finally, I decide on a blue dress, and a gray sweater to go over it, despite the heat. I need to cover up the burn scars somehow. I plug in my straight iron and brush my teeth, forgoing breakfast.

I spend way too much time doing my makeup and have to rush like a mad woman to throw hay into each horse’s stall.

“I’ll let you all out as soon as I’m home,” I promise and quickly dish up their oats. I crush Phoenix’s medication and mix it in applesauce before dumping it in her bowl. I run up the gravel drive, trade my cowboy boots for heels, and speed off. I call Lori on the way, feeling only a little bit bad for waking her up. I need details on Aiden. She reads me stats and fills me in on his new movie that he’s filming in a small town outside of Billings. He’s been there for a few weeks, apparently, and I’d been too distracted to take notice.

My nerves start to die as I pull into the parking lot of Lily’s Café. Last year, I’d have given an arm and a leg to have the chance to just look into Aiden Shepherd’s eyes. Now I’m about to be sitting down with him, one on one, and asking him questions. With everything that’s changed, it doesn’t seem important anymore, and I find myself trying hard to care about Hollywood and movies and people who make a shit ton of money by playing a part. Playing.

I park my Jeep and get out, doing a quick check in the mirror. I haven’t worn this much makeup in months. I haven’t had the drive to put effort into my appearance. I have natural beauty—according to Mom, that is. I push the straps of Lori’s black leather purse onto my shoulder. I might as well call this bag mine now; I’ve had it long enough. She probably doesn’t miss it. She owns more handbags and purses than anyone I know.

I slow when I get to the glass door, trying to look inside and locate Aiden before going in. He’s sitting at a table in the back, reading with his head down. A man in a black suit stands near the table. Really, he has a bodyguard with him in Billings?

I notice the group of high-school-aged girls gathered at a table next to him, heads together, giggling as they steal looks and snap selfies with him in the background. Oh. The bodyguard makes sense. He wasn’t worried about being mugged; he was worried about the fangirls.

I pull my shoulders back and open the door. A little bell chimes, and Aiden looks up. His eyes meet mine, and my breath catches in my chest, the air leaving me. I can’t breathe. He’s gorgeous, just like I imagined. Strong jaw, defined cheeks, dark hair falling messily in his face in a way that could only look that sexy on him. But I am hit with how real he looks too. The book he’s holding has a bent cover. Crumbs speckle the table in front of him, and a cup of coffee is pushed to the side. Faint purple circles hang under his brown eyes.

The door shuts behind me and the bell chimes again. Everything hits me at once. The chatter of the packed Café. The smell of coffee. The air from the vent above me, blowing my hair back.

And his eyes, locked with mine.

I need to move, need to pick one foot up and put it in front of the other. But I can’t seem to, and when I finally scoot my stupid foot forward, the heel of my shoe catches on the rug. I stumble but don’t fall. Blood rushes to my cheeks. Way to go, Haley. What a good first impression.

I push my hair out of my eyes and look back up. Aiden is standing, lips parted ever so slightly as he looks at me with one hand out. Is he going to come help me?

I cast my eyes down and see him sink back into his seat. Okay…this is awkward. Should I order a drink first? No, that would be even weirder to just stand in line with my back to him. I mean, it’s not like I can pretend I didn’t see him. We shared that…that…I don’t know, really. A moment?

He looks back at his book and I cross the room, heels clicking softly on the dull hardwood floor. The bodyguard stiffens when he sees me. He sidesteps in front of Aiden. I reach into my purse to pull out my work ID badge.