From the living room sofa, watching on his laptop, the entire situation hadn’t looked fake to him. Not with her co-star Marcus Collins’s hands all over her on the red carpet that Xander had offered to walk her down. Despite knowing the lights and crowds and yelling photographers would possibly trigger him, he’d volunteered. For her. She knew it would have been hard for him, but he’d been willing to try.

She leaned forward in her seat. “I explained that to you,” she said, her soft gaze meeting his. “My agent wanted us to arrive together and give the audience what they wanted. What they assumed to be true.”

And that truth had included Marcus’s mouth on hers for every photographer to capture for posterity. Xander had watched and waited for her to react, to stiffen in shock or discreetly move the dick’s hand off her ass. Anything to prove to Xander she might suck up the situation for appearances but she was his and she’d take care of the bastard when the cameras weren’t focused on her.

But when a reporter stopped the couple and asked about their status, Marcus had pulled Sasha closer and kissed her on the lips a second time, with his tongue. Then he’d turned to the camera with a grin and asked, “Does that answer your question?”

Sasha hadn’t batted an eyelash at his actions or response.

Xander raised his eyebrows. “And the kisses?” He made sure to use the plural.

She briefly closed her eyes before meeting his gaze. “At the time, I thought I was doing what was best, but I was also acting. Doing my job in front of the cameras.”

And she was damned good at it. Then and now. So what if he’d caught a movie or two of hers in the privacy of his home? Nobody had to know.

He braced his arms on the table. “We didn’t break up over Marcus Collins. It was the culmination of many things, but the final straw was–”

“Paris,” she said.

“Paris.” He inclined his head. “You took that role without giving me a heads-up first. We’d been living together almost a year. Don’t you think I deserved at least a discussion before you decided you were going to be gone for months overseas?” He wouldn’t have stopped her, but she should have offered reassurances about them.

“I–” she began.

He cut her off. “You weren’t the least bit upset about it because you were so excited that your dreams were coming true.” And though everything inside him had been ready to end things because he’d grown tired of barely being an afterthought, he knew he loved her. So he’d talked to his siblings, the people closest to him, and he’d decided to try one last time. “And I accepted Paris, too.”