30

Well, that burst the bubble of affection swelling in my chest. How the fuck was he able to brush me off without giving me even a crumb? With barely an acknowledgment, after everything we’d shared? How could he sleep when the woman he’d cared so much about was broken and beat-up in the next room? And how could he not want to question me about the secrets I’d withheld as much as I wanted to question him?

He knew.

It was the only thing that made sense. Somehow, he knew. That I wasn’t simply Emily Wayborn, actress and professional girlfriend. That I was Emily Wayborn, formerly Emily Barnes, Amber’s best friend. Emily Wayborn, liar. He knew and I was caught and I could barely see straight, could barely get air inside my lungs.

“You knew,” I whispered. I’d lied, and he knew, and I needed to hear from him what that meant for us.

He stood to step out of his jeans then pulled back the bedcovers. “I said we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

I couldn’t wait even another minute, not when our en