Josh
I rub the back of my neck, trying to ground myself. The heat of Riley's lips is long gone, but the discomfort still lingers, coiling tight in my chest. That wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not ever.
I glance toward Hailey, who's turned away, camera shielding her like armor. She's not looking at me. That's what stings the most.
"Josh," Marcus calls out, beckoning me toward the monitors, but I shake my head.
"Give me a sec," I mutter.
I walk off the set, past Riley, who looks far too pleased with herself, and toward the far end of the studio where the lighting is dimmer and no one's watching too closely. My hands clench into fists at my sides. I'm angry. Not just at Riley, but at myself. For freezing. For not stopping it fast enough. For how Hailey looked at me afterward…like she wasn't sure what she saw anymore.
