Page 70 of Shadows of Stardust

“And,” Sella says, undaunted, “this is the perfect opportunity for the two of you to show the universe how your love story has been progressing. Get in front of the cameras. Give your audience something to swoon over.”

Gag.

I keep my face carefully neutral, but apparently Zan’s in a mood this morning.

“Would they not prefer us to be genuine rather than put on an act?”

Rich, truly, coming from him, but again I remain silent.

Sella, to her credit, doesn’t let her sunny smile slip an inch. “Marva would also like to see a little more from you both. As we approach the midpoint of production, we like to hone in on our main love stories for the season and really give the audience a chance to connect. For you two, we need to see more of that passion you had in the beginning. Let the audience see it, give them something to root for.”

There it is.

I like Sella, I really do, but she’s got a show to produce and a boss to impress and it’s probably good we’re getting that reminder.

Even if it also means my chest tightens, my stomach rolls, and that old familiar panic creeps in at the corners of my mind, chipping slowly away at the walls I’ve built against it.

Beneath the counter, Zan returns the nudge I gave him earlier.

An anchor point. A recognition that we’re still in this together.

Sella gives us a few more reminders about the bonfire tonight, suggestions for wardrobe, a brief pep talk on howwonderfulit’ll be for us, and then she’s off in her trademark swirl of enthusiasm.

The silence in the bungalow as the door shuts behind her is absolute. Heavy, stifling, enough to have me nearly ready to jump out of my skin.

Okay.

Okay.

This is okay.

Breathe in, then out.

This is what we signed up for, and compared to plotting to steal one of the crew’s hovers and brave the Eritin wilderness, this is no big deal. Easy peasy. Just me and Zan convincinga whole universe full of viewers that we’re completely, utterly, madly in love.

And we have been, haven’t we?

We’ve been… better, these last few days. Pretending like we can actually tolerate each other. No, scratch that, we’vebeentolerating each other. We’ve almost been… friends.

Now we’ve just got to figure out everything else.

Which shouldn’t be a problem. Itwon’tbe a problem. We were fine with it before, the physical side of things. True, it felt more like fighting than kissing, but we can figure it out again.

Only…

I look over at Zan, who’s stood from the island and walked over to stare out the front window, watching Sella’s retreating figure. My stomach does a strange little flip, something that feels like it’s falling and shooting up into my throat all at the same time.

Why did the prospect ofeverything elsefeel so much less daunting before?

Now that we’ve called our truce, now that we’re not constantly bickering, now that we’ve found this strange sort of trust between us, why does the thought of being physical with him feel so… different?

Like he can sense the clamor of those thoughts, Zan glances over his shoulder. When he sees my expression, his brow furrows, and he turns to face me fully.

“Something wrong?”

I shake my head. “No. Nope. Everything’s a-okay.”

He crosses the room to stand in front of me, and I can’t help the way my breath catches, the way a shock of awareness runs all the way through me at the continued reminder of… him. How tall he is, how broad, how much easier it might be if I still saw him as nothing more than an enemy to outwit, a massive headache, my nemesis.

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