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the dangers of feeling too much.

      The problem was, when he was with Eloise he could feel himself wanting more. Suddenly everything he’d always relied on—a fleeting connection, the ability to walk away unchanged—wasn’t enough. And the other way lay madness—he knew that from experience.

      ‘You really want this part, don’t you?’ Eloise asked, and when he turned to her she was watching him too closely.

      ‘How did you know that?’ he asked, staring back. He hadn’t said how much it mattered to him, hadn’t even hinted at anything beyond a professional reason for wanting the role. But Eloise had known all the same.

      ‘I pay attention,’ she said. ‘So, what is it about this film? Why do you want this part so much?’

      ‘The script is...astonishing. It’s the kind of film that wins awards.’ But that wasn’t all and Eloise seemed to realise that. She stayed silent, waiting for him to say more. ‘It spoke to me, I guess. I just knew I had to make this film.’

      ‘The same way you knew you had to have me?’ Eloise shook her head, red hair tumbling over her bare shoulders. He remembered pulling the pins out of it one by one and watching it fall loose. The sight of her undone had taken his breath away. It still did. ‘This is quite your week for strange, compelling feelings.’

      ‘It is. I blame you.’

      She laughed. ‘Why? For acting out Shakespeare with you and putting you in touch with your inner Romeo?’

      ‘Because ever since I saw you I’ve wanted something more than I have.’ He inched closer, resting one hand on her waist. ‘You know, I spoke to my agent about this part and she told me that if I wanted it I’d need to start looking deeper, start accessing the feelings I’ve locked away for years.’

      ‘As well as swearing off sex?’ Eloise shook her head. ‘She’s tough. But...maybe she’s right.’

      ‘Maybe she is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know how. It’s been years. But when I met you... I knew you were the sort of person who felt deeply. Who saw deeper, who found meaning.’

      ‘So you thought I could help you get the part?’ She frowned. ‘I’m really not sure how that would work.’

      ‘That’s not it,’ Noah said, at a loss for how to explain it. ‘I tried staying away from you, but every time I saw you it seemed more impossible. I tried keeping my distance anyway, tried keeping it just physical. But the moment we kissed...there was more of me in that kiss than in the last ten movies I made.’

      ‘I felt it,’ Eloise murmured. ‘So why not finish what you started? Look deeper. Feel more. Be the guy you need to be to get that part. I’ll listen.’

      ‘I showed you mine; you show me yours?’

      ‘Basically. Isn’t that part of what looking deeper means? Dealing with your past? You’ve heard all my childhood traumas. What are yours? It has to be more than disapproving parents, right?’

      Noah’s jaw tightened as the memories flooded over him, so intense even after all these years that he worried he might be swept away by them. It felt wrong even thinking about Sally now, here, in bed with Eloise. But he had to admit she was the first woman he’d slept with that he’d ever considered talking to about what had happened.

      Could he do it? Should he?

      He’d be leaving in a few days. Whatever this connection was between him and Eloise, it would be over the moment he left Morwen Hall. He didn’t worry about Eloise spilling all to the Internet, or trying to make money by selling her story. He might have only known her a couple of days but he knew she wasn’t that person. Especially now she’d told him about her mother.

      Eloise was safe. And if he wanted the part, maybe this was what it would take.

      ‘There was a woman,’ he started, then stalled.

      ‘Isn’t there always?’ Eloise asked sadly. She moved out of his arms and, for a moment, he thought she was going to get out of the cosy, safe cocoon they’d made in her bed. Then she settled against the headboard, still naked, and tugged his arm until he curled up against her side. She settled her arms around him and waited for him to continue.

      Noah kissed the top of her breast and rested his head on her shoulder. When was the last time he’d been so close to a person, when they weren’t actively having sex? Had he ever been? If he had, he couldn’t remember it. Not even with Sally...

      He was supposed to be telling Eloise all about Sally.

      ‘She was my best friend,’ he said eventually.

      ‘The one you moved to LA with?’

      ‘Yes. She was...she was my family, more than my real family ever were. They didn’t understand me or the life I wanted to lead. Sally did.’

      ‘She sounds great.’ Noah listened for any hint of jealousy or envy in Eloise’s voice, but it wasn’t there.

      ‘She was. We got a flat together to start with, but then she met this guy. She’d won a part on a TV show, and he was one of the other actors. She was crazy about him. But he wasn’t a good guy. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was about him, but I knew he was wrong for Sally.’

      ‘What happened?’ Eloise asked. ‘And when did you realise you were in love with her?’

      Noah sighed. It said something about his levels of emotional understanding that, even seven years later, Eloise knew after five minutes what it had taken Noah years of friendship to realise.

      ‘I think I was always in love with her. Right from the day we met, back at grade school.’ She’d walked straight up to him, stuck out her hand and said, ‘I’m Sally. You’re my new best friend.’ And that was all it took. ‘But I guess when we hit high school, I realised it for real.’

      ‘And you didn’t do anything about it?’ Eloise asked, surprise clear in her voice.

      ‘I wasn’t Noah Cross, Film Star then, remember. I was nothing. And Sally...she was all I had. The only person in town who understood me—who I was, what I wanted, what mattered to me. I couldn’t risk losing that.’ The idea of her walking away because she didn’t feel the same way had been far too terrifying for him to take the chance.

      ‘So what changed? I mean, I assume something did.’

      ‘Yeah. She moved out of our flat and into his house, and I realised I’d missed my chance.’ He’d waited too long and he’d lost her. It had felt like the end of the world—until he’d learned what real loss meant. ‘But I figured she was happy, so I should be happy for her. But then she showed up one day with a black eye and I knew I had to get her out of there.’

      Eloise stayed silent but her arms tightened ever so slightly around him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed. Even after all this time, the horror he’d felt as he’d seen the bruises marring Sally’s perfect skin could still make him feel sick to his stomach.

      ‘I took her home and we talked. She told me it had been going on for months. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed. I still can’t.’ He dipped his head, hiding his eyes from hers. She didn’t need to see the shame in them. The guilt. He’d been so busy thinking about himself—about how he felt, what he’d lost, his own emotional turmoil—that he’d missed what was right in front of him and let the woman he loved get hurt. ‘She agreed to leave him. And then...’

      ‘You told her how you felt,’ Eloise guessed when he didn’t continue.

      ‘Yeah.’ The feelings were all coming back now, whether he wanted them or not. Those deep, hidden feelings that he’d locked up for so long, because he knew what came next. Knew he couldn’t have all that hope and that happiness without the pain that followed. ‘Sally...she told me she thought she might feel the same, or that she could one day. We kissed and, just for that brief moment, everything was perfect.’ He stopped, just

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