Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
But when a reporter stopped the couple and asked about their status, Marcus had pulled Sasha closer and kissed her on the lips a second time, with his tongue. Then he’d turned to the camera with a grin and asked, “Does that answer your question?”
Sasha hadn’t batted an eyelash at his actions or response.
Xander raised his eyebrows. “And the kisses?” He made sure to use the plural.
She briefly closed her eyes before meeting his gaze. “At the time, I thought I was doing what was best, but I was also acting. Doing my job in front of the cameras.”
And she was damned good at it. Then and now. So what if he’d caught a movie or two of hers in the privacy of his home? Nobody had to know.
He braced his arms on the table. “We didn’t break up over Marcus Collins. It was the culmination of many things, but the final straw was–”
“Paris,” she said.
“Paris.” He inclined his head. “You took that role without giving me a heads-up first. We’d been living together almost a year. Don’t you think I deserved at least a discussion before you decided you were going to be gone for months overseas?” He wouldn’t have stopped her, but she should have offered reassurances about them.
“I–” she began.
He cut her off. “You weren’t the least bit upset about it because you were so excited that your dreams were coming true.” And though everything inside him had been ready to end things because he’d grown tired of barely being an afterthought, he knew he loved her. So he’d talked to his siblings, the people closest to him, and he’d decided to try one last time. “And I accepted Paris, too.”
He’d gone on with his life in LA. Was available for the post-production process of his film and worked on an upcoming book in his free time. He’d tried to make things work with Sasha, but video calls, texting, and phone conversations were hard with the different time zones. She’d often been called away mid-sentence and he had been frustrated.
“It was a hard time,” she admitted. “And it was complicated for me. I had a lot of pressure from my agent and my mother.”
Her mother had never liked Xander, whether it was their age difference or the fact that he might derail Sasha’s career, it hadn’t mattered. She’d always been a negative voice in her daughter’s ear. It made sense that she’d both wanted and needed the approval of the parent who’d raised her and also encouraged her to pursue her dreams. Even if Annika had been trying to live vicariously through her daughter.
And yet, he’d understood. “I loved you, so I supported you.”
She winced at his use of the past tense, but it was the truth. Those feelings were in the past.
She nodded, tears in her eyes. “I know you did. And I appreciated it.”
Did she? He didn’t want to be a dick and ask.
“But when those photos of you and yet another co-star surfaced…” He shook his head. Sasha and Corey Murphy had been spotted cozying up in a small café, sharing a booth, heads bent together in what looked like an intimate conversation. The photos went viral. And Xander had had enough.
He wasn’t a jealous man but she’d pushed him to the brink. “At that point, I didn’t care if the rumors and the photos showed the truth or not.”
“They weren’t,” she said in a strong voice, and he actually believed her and acknowledged the point with a nod.
“But I also knew I couldn’t live the Hollywood life. Your life.”
She sighed but remained silent.
Xander had solid reasons for his feelings. He’d grown up with a father who’d been a serial cheater, and he’d resolved never to be that man or to accept it in his life, as his mother had. Plus, he’d already been fed up with LA. He’d been alone in a city and living a lifestyle he hated. The woman he loved had been halfway around the world, and there was nothing about their relationship that was sustainable. Not for him. Not when she’d allowed things to happen that would hurt him in order to get ahead.
Since they opened these old wounds, he might as well be one-hundred-percent honest with her. “I knew I’d always come third or fourth in your priorities. I just put an end to it before you did, by leaving.”
She stiffened at the reminder. “Before I came back and over Facetime.” She clasped her hands tightly on the table in front of her.
“I guess we both did what we thought was best at the time.”
She jerked at his parallel use of her words and scowled at him.
“You still haven’t explained why you’re not flying high on your success now,” he said.
The server returned to their table. “Are you ready to order?” she asked, politely.