But it occurred to me that my ill-advised confession and sloppy rejection of the very idea of us might have done this. If I could have kicked my own ass, I would have.

“You all right?” I asked, stopping next to her. Up by the house people had begun to pair up, couples laughing. But here, it was dark and lonely.

Dully, she nodded but then wrapped her arms across her chest. “Yes—no. Not really.”

“Em.” I slipped off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Was it what I said—”

“No.” Her reply cracked through the night. She sighed, as though trying to pull herself together, and spoke more softly. “No, it’s not that. I’ve resigned myself to the idea that we’re probably a huge mistake in the making.”

That shouldn’t have stung; I’d said as much multiple times. My chest still clenched, as though struck. Because it felt wrong, a betrayal of everything that was good and real in my life. But Emma was hurting, which meant I focused on her. “Then what’s wrong?”

With another sigh, she tilted her head back and stared up at the sky. “I didn’t think it would be this hard, being around them.”

Them. Her former costars.

She laughed without humor, the sound weak and carried away in the wind. “It’s stupid. Life goes on and all that.”

“It’s not stupid.” I touched her arm, and she turned to stare up at me with dark eyes. “It hurts when what you valued in your life moves on without you.”

She nodded, biting her lower lip. “I feel like a jerk, pouting over the loss of a role when you have it so much worse. It seems petulant.”

I huffed out a ghost of a laugh. “You think that’s what’s going on in my mind? No, Emma. Not even a little bit.”

Emma shook her head, but I didn’t think she’d truly heard me. Dark thoughts had pulled her too deep. “The show was known for its wild directions, killing off people without remorse. But I can’t help thinking, why me? Was it really for the good of the story, or did I do something wrong? Did I bore the audience?”

“People watched because of you,” I said with a fierceness I hoped she heard. “Jesus, Em. You were its star. You shine. Nothing will change that.”

Her gaze met mine, still a bit hazy, but she was listening. A small smile played on her lips. “It’s pride. Ego, more like. Mine took a hit, and I wasn’t prepared for the blow.”

“We never are, bee.”

Her smile turned warmer. “No, I guess we’re not. But they keep coming, and I can’t seem to get out from under it.”

Hell. Now that? That was partially my fault. I’d confessed my want of her because I’d seen the way the mention of whoever the hell Greg was had hurt her. She’d flinched, the light draining from her pretty eyes. I couldn’t see that and let her go on thinking she wasn’t . . . everything. Then I’d fucked it up.

This woman turned me inside out, but she was precious and needed to know it.

Music drifted over the lawn. Nice and slow, a song about love and longing. Up by the house, couples danced under the string lights. I held out my hand. “Dance with me, Em.”

She searched my face, as though not certain she’d heard me correctly. Did I ever want to publicly dance? No. But for her? With her? I held steady.

And when she slipped her hand into mine, something deep inside my chest clicked. Lock and key, she fit. I pulled her into the shelter of my arms, content to dance here in the semidarkness. She didn’t appear to mind but melted against me with a sigh, her head resting on my chest, as though she could no longer hold it up.

That was fine; I could do the lifting for both of us. My free hand slid up her neck and into the warmth of her hair. And she sighed, the action moving through her body into mine. I closed my eyes and tilted my head just enough to feel the crown of her head beneath my cheek. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Her broken whisper pierced my heart. “How do you know?”

“Because I believe in you.”

Her body jolted before she sighed. “I believe in you too, Lucian.”

God. Why did that hurt so much? I wanted to do right by this woman, show her the best of me, not just the broken edges. I didn’t answer but simply held her.

We barely moved, just the slightest sway to give a nod to dancing. Emma let go of my hand and snuggled closer, her arms wrapping around my waist. A lump rose in my throat as I followed suit, winding my arm around her slim waist, holding her. Just holding her.