LOL: Laugh Out Loud (After Oscar, #2)(37)

“Is that how you got into acting?” he asked.

It was a common question, one I was asked in almost every interview. And I almost gave him my practiced answer that drama club had opened a world of possibilities and shown me I had a talent that an enthusiastic and supportive teacher had helped nourish.

But there was a deeper, more complicated answer, and that was the one I found myself sharing with Scotty. “I liked that being on stage allowed me to become someone else, even if just for a few minutes or hours. Because if I was someone else, I could forget about what happened with my dad. I didn’t have to be angry and sad and lost. It gave me an escape.”

There was a moment of silence after I finished. I was afraid to meet Scotty’s eyes, not sure what I’d find. His hand on my leg tightened. “That makes sense,” he said softly.

“Anyway,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’ve had a hard time with loud, sudden noises since then. Because of the… the accident.”

Scotty let out a breath. “Understandable.”

“Yeah,” I continued. “So that day on set—the day I met you—there was… and I even knew it was coming… there was a gunshot. It kicked off like this… adrenaline response in my body and I began breathing heavily. My heart raced and my skin started pouring sweat. I tried keeping it together, tried focusing on my job and my role, but then a gaffer bumped into a scaffold, knocking a stack of metal poles and wooden slats down onto a cement floor. The loud bang of each pole and slat hitting the ground was too much.” I clenched and unclenched my hand into a fist. “I freaked and bolted outside.”

Scotty reached over and took my fist, pulling it open and threading his fingers through mine. “To me.”

I kept my eyes on his and nodded. “To you.”

He drew his thumb softly across my knuckles. “And you picked a carriage because…?”

“I just wanted out of there as fast as possible. And when I saw you there…” I had to pause and swallow. I didn’t know how to explain it to him. At the time I hadn’t been thinking—not really. I’d just seen him and the carriage and the word safe played through my head. But somehow that seemed too much to confess, so I lifted a shoulder.

“I knew you’d be the quickest way across the most distance. I couldn’t just stand there and wait for a cab. And my legs were shaking so much, I knew I couldn’t take off running. But you… you could get us all the way across the park.”

Scotty shifted until we were cross-legged in front of each other, our hands tangled together between us. “You must have been really upset,” he said softly. And he sounded so sincere. There was no judgment, no laughter that Roman Burke, the man who played badass spies and Navy SEALs on the big screen, could be freaked-out by a few loud noises.

“I was,” I told him. “I don’t even remember some of it. It was like this… physical thing.”

The corner of his lip kicked up. “Yeah, I kind of noticed at the time. I totally thought you were going to hurl in my carriage, and then we really would have had a situation on our hands.”

I smiled as well. It was nice to have a bit of humor to temper the seriousness of the conversation. But I could tell there was something still on Scotty’s mind in the way his forehead remained crinkled. “Was there something else you were wondering about?”

He glanced down at our hands, at the way our fingers intertwined, and nodded. “I’m curious about Polly.”

I blew out a breath. “You and everyone else,” I muttered.

It was the wrong thing to say. Scotty reacted instantly, stiffening and trying to pull his hand from mine. I tightened my grip, not letting him escape.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. I dipped my head, forcing myself into his line of sight. “Scotty.” I used my voice that commanded attention and his eyes snapped to mine. “I’m sorry,” I told him again.

There was a flash of indignation in his expression. “I’m not here so I can learn your secrets and sell them,” he told me.

“I know, I didn’t think that you were,” I said. “If I did I wouldn’t have shared any of that with you,” I added, loosening my grip on his hand and giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted. Thankfully, he didn’t.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t want you thinking I’m using you.”

I wanted to cup my hands around his cheeks and kiss his concern from his lips. “I don’t think that. I promise. Otherwise you wouldn’t always be so stubborn about accepting my help.”

His eyes narrowed playfully, the previous indignation gone. “You like that I’m stubborn and you know it.”

I couldn’t resist dragging my knuckles along the line of his jaw, my thumb coming to rest on his bottom lip. “If you hadn’t been so stubborn, you wouldn’t be here now. So yes, I do like it.”

Scotty drew in a sharp breath. His tongue darted out, just tasting the tip of my thumb. I was about to let out a growl and pounce on him, but he held up a hand. “The Polly story first. I want to make sure I’m not moving in on someone else’s man.”

I sat back, needing some physical distance if I didn’t want to jump him. “I found out Polly was pregnant not long before the media caught wind of it. The moment she found out, she came to my house really upset and wanting to talk. I had no idea she was going to release a statement naming me as the father. When the paparazzi bombarded me after the carriage ride—that’s the first I’d heard of it.”