Kix laughed. “Are you kidding? He blew me in the makeup tent like two hours ago. Mind your business.”
I shuddered. This set was noticeably less professional than any of the other projects I’d worked on for as long as I could remember. Kix’s behavior was a reminder that he wasn’t really the kind of person I wanted in my life, and I wondered for the millionth time what the hell I was doing remaining friends with him.
You owe him.
The old refrain was getting very tired. He’d had years to find his own path to success, and maybe his behavior on set was part of the reason no one took him very seriously.
No one takes you seriously either, Chip.
I gritted my teeth once more. I was used to being compared to my air-headed, super-chipper childhood role, but hearing it out of Declan’s mouth yesterday had been a slap in the face.
Thankfully, I was spared more thoughts about it by a knock on the trailer door. I would withstand anyone’s pushy questions about the shooting just to get me to stop thinking about Declan Stone.
“Come in,” I called.
The door opened to reveal Declan Stone. Of course.
“H-hi,” I said nervously. What did he want? Why was he here? Had I done or said something wrong on my statement? My palms flooded with clammy heat.
Declan’s eyes flicked to Kix and back to me. “I came to see if you were okay. I thought… I thought you’d be riding with me again today.”
I opened my lips in surprise, and he kept talking. “I mean, obviously it’s okay if you don’t want to. I just didn’t want you to think you couldn’t. I committed to—”
“I’ll ride with you!” Kix interjected. “I’ll do it.”
I shot him a look. “Kix, can you excuse us, please?”
He was obviously annoyed at being kicked out of the conversation, but he left anyway, promising to be back after my interview so we could ride to the Roadhouse together.
Once the door closed again, Declan stepped a little closer. “You’re going out?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to, but…” I don’t want to be alone either.
Our eyes locked, and a world of words hovered unspoken between us. Was I the only one who felt them?
I swallowed and tried again. “I—”
Before I could admit my fear, the trailer door banged open and Nolan came in without knocking. “Let’s get this show on the road, action hero! Oh.” He stopped when he saw Declan in full uniform. “Hello, Sheriff Stone. Is there something we can help you with?”
Declan turned and cleared his throat. The softness in his eyes disappeared as he reached out a hand to shake the director’s.
“Just stopped by to make sure the situation last night didn’t interfere too much with your production,” he said. “I apologize for putting Finn in harm’s way. If there’s anything I can do to—”
“Nonsense,” Nolan said with a wide grin, moving around to clap me on the shoulder. He seemed to be full of energy every time I saw him, like he had trouble sitting still and wanted to be off to the next thing. “You did us a solid. The media coverage alone is worth thousands. We can’t thank you enough for allowing our boy here to be a part of a truly heroic moment. Thanks to your department for making sure he came through it unharmed, and I’m doubly glad you and your deputy were unscathed. That poor girl. Hopefully she’s alright as well?”
Declan nodded and gave Nolan some platitudes about the young woman’s condition, but I could see the tightness in his jaw as he spoke. He didn’t love this. And he was in good company, because I absolutely hated it.
Nolan glad-handed Declan out the door with polite apologies that our “very important” interview had to cut his visit short. After one precious moment of eye contact with the strong, dependable sheriff, he was gone.
I followed Nolan to the media tent where everything was set up for the interview. A few minutes before we were scheduled to start, he turned to me to say, “Now’s the time to capitalize on the fact you’re doing your own stunts. After what happened last night, it will really add to the excitement and danger. I’m impressed with how seriously you took your prep work, Finn. Arranging for the ride-along like that was smart thinking, and your being there when the most exciting action in Aster Valley happened… well, you can’t say there’s not a little Chip Clover luck in you for real, right?”
His nearby assistant smiled and winked at me at his stupid-ass statement, and Shelly, the show runner, thought it was hysterical. I wanted to remind him that being present for any drunken shooting wasn’t good luck. It was bad. But then again, I did consider not getting shot last night to be a stroke of luck, so maybe he had a point.