I nodded. “Of course. Go.” Channel 4. Wow. This really was big.

Once he was finished dressing, he came forward and caressed my cheek, then pressed another light kiss to my lips. “Last night was amazing. You’re amazing. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later,” I breathed as he disappeared out the door.

I flopped back into my pillows and stared at the ceiling. Things were happening for Trev. Exciting things. I tried to imagine what that would look like for us, for our fledgling relationship. I could be his rock, the person who grounded him when life became too stressful. I wouldn’t weigh him down, but I’d be on hand when he needed support. I’d perfect the art of being the loving girlfriend without trying to sponge off his success.

I would be the soft pillow under his head if things ever became rocky.

I nodded in an effort to convince myself it would be easy, a piece of cake, and yet still, I had that distinct, unsettling, dreadful feeling that despite our best efforts to make this work, the world was going to tear Trev and I apart.

And there was nothing either one of us could do to stop it.

Give me the one from the top shelf.

This pain needs something expensive.

‘Cos my heart is so cheap.

Got a few coins?

Anyone could buy it.

Queenie, “Top Shelf Bottom Love”

One.

Present Day.

Remember that song “Like a G6”?

Well, every time I caught a glimpse of Trev’s life these days that’s what I heard in my head.

Excess.

Wealth.

Youthful folly.

Fuck yes, I was jealous, but I’d never admit it. Besides, my jealousy was far outweighed by my heartbreak. You’d think after all this time I’d be over him, and for a while I thought I was—emphasis on thought. I wasn’t. Men like Trevor Cross came around once in a lifetime. I’d had my one time. I knew that even if I found love again, it would never come close to living up to what I had for a brief second before it was snatched away.

Two years ago, we’d made the tentative first steps towards being together, but then his television opportunity came along and after a few months it felt as though we were strangers. Maybe I didn’t fight hard enough. Or maybe he didn’t. Nevertheless, there were too many other things in the mix, and our romance flickered out. It didn’t fail epically, with tears and fights and drama, but in the most un-epic way possible. Distance and fame drove a wedge between us, and sadly, I didn’t have the confidence it would take to stake a claim.

He was his show and his show was him. I was so proud of all he had achieved, and given his impoverished childhood, I knew how important money and success were. I knew he needed it to feel safe and in control. But still, I truly missed my best friend and wished we could’ve found a way to make it work.

I stared at him on the TV above the restaurant’s bar. Seriously, it had to be some kind of sick torture for him to get this much airtime. I was waiting for Karla and Lee. We’d arranged to get a lunchtime drink and a bite to eat, have a catch-up. And there was Trev on the flat-screen, lounging casually on a sofa, while he and his fellow Running on Air stars were interviewed by a perky blonde presenter.

It was a repeat I’d seen before, but I still couldn’t help watching. The interview cut to some footage of the show, with Trev standing atop an old red public phone booth. People passing by on the street eyed him curiously, wondering why this nut job had climbed on top of a phone booth, of all things. Trev’s face split in a wicked smile before he backflipped about eight feet to the ground. The show cut back to the interview, as the presenter asked another question. His voice always drew me in. I pulled out my phone and jotted down some lyrics.

Your face on every screen.

A mirror. A reminder.

Keep smiling.

Keep charming.

Your eyes are so disarming.

I continued tapping down lyrics until the stool on the other side of the table moved and I glanced up. Karla and Lee stood before me. I smiled. It had been at least a fortnight since I’d seen them last. Too long.

“Hey, you two,” I said, standing to give my friend a hug.

“Reya, you look amazing. Have you lost weight?” Karla asked cheerfully, but it sounded forced. Weird.

I gave her a look. “A little, though it’s mostly down to stress.”

She frowned. “Lexie told me about the club closing down. That sucks.”

“I know, but I’ll find something else. Hi, Lee.”

“Hey babe, good to see you,” he said, and I gave him a quick hug, too. It was just as I pulled away that I saw a familiar form behind him and time stood still. My heart thumped once, hard and loud, and my throat ran dry.

Trevor.

Now I understood Karla’s forced cheer. I sucked in a surprised breath as my gaze travelled from his mid-section to his face. He smiled so wide it practically lit up the room. That smile hit me like a wallop.

What the hell was he doing here?

And why was he smiling at me like I hung the moon and stars?

Every pore in my body tightened with awareness. My throat constricted. My lungs filled with too much air. For two whole years our paths had avoided crossing and now here he was. My heart felt like it was going into cardiac arrest just looking at him.

Get it together, biotch.

I inhaled deeply and plastered on an I couldn’t care less about your unexpected appearance smile.

“Trev, long time.”

“Too long,” he replied. “Hello, Reya.”

There was something different in his voice, a husky maturity. Sure, I’d heard it on TV, but it was different in person. It sounded like . . . I dunno, manliness.

“Hey,” I breathed.

A prolonged moment elapsed and we just . . . stared at each other. It was supremely awkward on my end but he seemed frustratingly at ease. I blinked and looked away when Lee cleared his throat.

“We gonna get some grub, or what? I’m starving.”

I turned and moved to retake my seat when Trev spoke, “What? I don’t get a hug?”

There was tense silence as I narrowed my gaze at him. His expression was open and friendly, which made it difficult to stay irritated by his random appearance. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that the key goal here was to act casual. I could have a nice, private freak-out as soon as I got home. But for now, I had to be cool.