Page 63 of Dream (Fighting Fate)

Letting go of the spoon, I sat back and sighed. “I’m just thinking about my summer ending,” I said, unable to stop the dejected tone of my voice. “Josh leaves next Wednesday.”

Sympathy clouded her eyes. “You always knew it was going to be like this.”

“I know. But knowing is different than feeling the reality of it. I underestimated how much it would hurt.”

Reaching out, she placed her hand o

ver mine again and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Aww, honey. I wish I could take it for you. I really do. Trust me, I know what it feels like.” Leaning forward slightly, her gaze intensified. “But just remember, it was always going to be this way. You two were obviously supposed to meet, but only the two of you can work out the reason why. The only life lesson I can give you in this is, whatever shit life throws at you, use it to make yourself a better person. And remember, I’ll be here to hold you when he’s gone.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. She always managed to say the right things. She would’ve made the best mom. “I thought I could guard myself from hurting too much, but I was so wrong.” The grin that crept to my lips was born of sarcasm. “So, I may as well stop trying and just go with it, huh?”

“Exactly,” she said, smiling with encouragement. “What’s the point in spending your time trying to soften the fall when the landing is going to hurt regardless? You may as well let go and enjoy the scenery on your way. Or the sculptured body, as your case may be.”

I laughed. I guessed that was one way to put it.

Coming around the counter, she kissed the top of my head and gave me a one-armed hug. “Just enjoy the time you have, honey. One day you’ll be able to look back and appreciate the memories. I guarantee it.”

With her protein shake in hand, she disappeared down the hall to her office. Finishing my breakfast, I washed my bowl with a new determination to make these last few days count.

Collecting a change of clothes from my room, I made my way down the trail to the beach and up to Josh’s house. When I reached the deck, I found Josh sitting back with a coffee in one hand, and a pile of papers in the other.

The second he saw me, he smiled and dropped both onto the table in front of him. “Good morning, beautiful. I didn’t see you coming,” he said, moving to scoop me into his arms.

It was these kinds of things I would miss the most. The way he made me feel important to him. The way he held me and breathed me in like I was the reason for his smile.

I laughed. “How is that even possible? You can see the entire beach from here.”

Pulling back, he gave me a crooked smile. “There’s only one explanation. You must be a ninja. Please tell me you’re a ninja.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What’s the real reason?”

Chuckling, he towed me over to the sofa and pulled me down, into the cushions. “I’ve just been reading through some scenes. I received the shooting schedule for next month, so I thought I better start getting ready.”

I eyed the script with interest. I still found it hard to get my head to believe he was as famous as Ashley and Sarah made out. It was as though there were dots that needed to be connected, but my brain just couldn’t get them to line up enough to make a picture that made sense to me.

“Am I allowed to know what it is?” I asked, completely unsure of what the rules were with these things.

“Of course,” he said, picking up the script and sitting back beside me. “It’s called The Silver Gate, and it’s being directed by Steven Wilder. Have you heard of him?”

I nodded. “I haven’t seen any of his work, but I read the scripts to Spirit and Shadow Wars when I was studying a unit on screenplays,” I said, taking the script he was holding out and eagerly soaking in the lines.

Josh’s eyes sparked with intrigue. “You did? What did you think? I haven’t worked with him before, but Shadow Wars was the reason I decided to work with him on this one.”

“It read amazing. I’d love to see it now I’m back in the States,” I said, skimming through the first page in front of me.

“We’ll watch it tonight. It looks way better on the big screen, but you’ll love it.”

Catching the intensity of the scene, I narrowed my eyes. “This seems a bit different from the movies I watched the other night. Intentional move?”

He inhaled deeply, seeming nervous. “It is. Much to my manager’s distress, I changed directions last film. As much as I know everyone loves a nice, feel-good story, I was tired of doing the same thing over and over again. I wanted people to see I have more diversity than just being the guy who sweeps the girl off her feet all the time.”

That had my interest. “What was the last movie?”

“It’s called Willow’s Way. It was directed by Peter Lange. It only premiered last month.”

“Who wrote the screenplay?” I asked, wondering if I’d read any of their work.

“Scott Jennings,” he said, watching me carefully. “I think it was his first big picture. It was a good script too.”

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