She couldn’t stop questions spiraling through her mind. Why would he have insisted on stretching his one night with Zahara into a weekend? Why had he told Zahara he wanted more with her if he’d been hoping to rekindle things with Lila?
Right now, Zahara didn’t understand a goddamned thing. Emotions battled and clashed. Hurt, shame, anger. She fought for rationale. There had to be a logical explanation.
Laughter drew Zahara’s gaze toward Chase again, just in time to see Lila smile up at him. Just in time to witness Chase lower his head and kiss her.
Kiss. Her.
A knife pierced Zahara’s heart.
Cameras flashed as Chase wrapped Lila in his arms and kissed her again.
Zahara’s stomach free fell into the dregs of the sinkhole.
What in the hell was happening? She felt like she was on another movie set.
When Chase pulled out of the kiss, he smiled down at Lila. A real smile. A comfortable smile.
A smile that broke Zahara’s heart.
“Z?”
Jax’s voice drew her gaze. She blinked, searching her mind for his last words. But she came up empty. In so many ways.
“I’m sorry. I’m really thrilled about the movies, and I’m five hundred percent in. I think I’m just a little travel weary. I’m going to head—”
“Chase,” Lexi called. “Look who’s here.”
Every muscle in Zahara’s body tensed. Fuck. She wasn’t up for this. She felt like she had an icy eight-inch blade in her chest. She’d fallen for all of Chase’s charm. She’d let herself believe he’d cared about her. Really cared. She thought they’d had something. Something potentially amazing.
Zahara shored herself up, but she was still unprepared when Chase and Lila looked their way. He glanced over, his initial expression casual and relaxed. Then he did a double-take on Zahara. Shock flashed over his face first. Followed by a spark of excitement. Then realization. And finally, oh fuck.
He pulled his arm from Lila’s waist, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the group. By the time she and Chase stood facing each other, Zahara felt like stone. Like one of those marble statues in Rome or Greece, cold, heavy, frozen. Dead.
While Lila gushed over Jax and Lexi for coming, Chase and Zahara stared at each other. The man she’d been able to read so well just weeks ago was now a complete mystery. She could easily let herself believe they were still communicating without words. He seemed to be screaming “What a fucking mess.” “I’m sorry.” “Don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about this.”
But she really had no idea what he was thinking. She’d obviously never known, just fooled herself into believing what she wanted to believe.
When Lila took a breath, Chase finally spoke to her. “Hey.” His tone was filled with tension and veiled apology. “When did you get back?”
You fucking piece-of-shit bastard. She’d texted him three times to tell him when she’d be arriving. Had hoped he would offer to pick her up at the airport, then take her back to his apartment for a much-needed reunion.
But he was obviously just like all the other assholes in this town. An actor. A fucking actor. And Zahara had been just another stupid, gullible lay.
“About an hour ago.” She glanced at Lila, snuggling up to Chase’s side, and offered her hand. “Zahara.”
The woman returned her greeting. “Lila.”
“Lila Carson, right?” She pulled her hand from Lila’s and lashed out in the only way she could considering the circumstances. “Married to Brendon Carson, the director.”
Lila gave her the deer-in-the-headlights look. She clearly hadn’t been expecting someone to bring up her marriage while displaying public affection for a man who was not her current husband. “Oh, well, we’re getting divorced—”
“Which means”—Zahara looked at Chase—“correct me if I’m wrong”—she returned her gaze to Lila—“you’re still married.”
Lila shifted on her feet and laughed, an awkward sound to fit an awkward situation. “Well, I
guess, sort of.”
“That’s like being pregnant or dead, isn’t it? You are or you aren’t.”