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"Did he hurt you?" Bradley was quiet but the clipped edge to his question gave her the impression he would be making a trip upstairs, depending on her answer.
"No, it's nothing like that. He's never laid a hand on me," she shook her head. Although he'd only switched on the bedside lamp, even the dim glow was making her head pound. "Could you possibly turn the light—"
Before she could finish, he'd reached over and clicked it off, the room dark again. They sat side by side on his bed, his hand gently resting on her forearm. She'd stopped crying but the slight sense of panic sat dormant in her veins. Soon, she was certain, she would begin to tense up and then it was all over. She had reassured her team before they'd left that she didn't need her usual massage therapist to travel with her, that she'd been feeling good and if there was any possibility of a flare-up, she would have her doctors set her up with someone in Toronto.
There was a strong connection between her fibromyalgia and stress, so she was determined to stay on top of it before it got unbearable, something she'd not been able to do last year when she had to cancel tour dates. The entire situation; the pressure of the festival, the shit going on with Christian, whatever the hell was going on with Bradley, none of it was good and she was terrified her body was going to make her pay.
"You don't have to tell me what happened," Bradley said. "Other than what you've already said."
"Oh God, B, I wake you out of a sound sleep at a crazy hour and then burst in here, crying all over you...you deserve an explanation, don't you think?"
"The only thing I care about is making sure you're okay," he replied firmly. "I don't need to know anything else."
He was so good, she thought, not for the first time. He was a damn good man and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Again, his hands found her hair and it felt so nice, she wanted to melt into him.
"He gets nasty when he's drunk," she murmured against the cotton of his t-shirt. "Verbally, I mean. I think he came back looking for a fight. He's pissed he has to be here."
"He's pissed because he has to be there for you? You've worked so fucking hard for this. The least he can do is act like he's supposed to be your fiancé."
She'd never heard him speak about Christian in that way before, almost angrily, and definitely more than a little resentful. "Okay, so things are shitty between us right now, but they were good before. They can be again."
Shut up, fucking Pollyanna, her inner voice screamed at her. Sometimes her own optimism disgusted her. "I'm so sorry I'm involving you in all of this. I should go."
Despite her words to the contrary, she made no move to leave and his lips ghosted over the top of her head. "I care. That makes me involved."
The way her heart constantly skipped beats whenever he said or did anything lately should have been enough to send her running again but she was too tired...too tired to go anywhere, too tired to question his motives or hers, for that matter, anymore.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
Without having to lift her head, she knew he was smiling. "It's me who doesn't deserve you, Stef. This movie wouldn't be what it is without you. I wouldn't be where I am without you." His arm snaked around her back, pulling her close. "Professionally, personally...you've changed my life."

YOU ARE READING
Listen to Your Heart
Fiksyen PeminatMaking A Star is Born was the most special experience of her life. She knows she needs to let go of both the film and her director, Bradley Cooper. The question is, can she do it? *Disclaimer* This is a work of pure fiction and a combination of real...