Hearts & Souls (Heartstruck #3)

Chapter 1

one

Hollywood can be a real bitch. Grueling hours, judgy people. Even lonely most of the time.

Don’t get me wrong, I wanted this. Dreamt of it practically my whole life. No matter how many acting classes you take, none of them can truly prepare you for how fake this world can truly be.

I slump back against the couch.

A few months ago, I brought an idea up to my agent, something I’ve been thinking about pursuing for the past few years.

“You want to what?!” Hank Harper barks.

Pinching the bridge of my nose is a valiant effort, but it does nothing to annihilate the migraine creeping up the back of my neck. “Take a break to write and direct. Maybe even produce.”

“Fuck’s sake, Rowan. Please tell me I’d still be your agent.”

“Of course. You’ve been with me since the beginning.”

A heavy sigh makes its way through the phone. “I’ll put out some feelers. See what the studio says and get back to you in a few days.”

“Thanks, man.”

What he’s telling me now has me irritated as fuck.

“The studio would love to make this happen for you,” Hank tells me in his gravely voice. “But they’re saying we need to discuss your image.”

I can practically see him now, pacing his high-rise office in downtown L.A., scratching at his close-cropped salt-and-pepper beard.

“What about it?” I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea where this conversation is headed.

“The execs at Paramount loved your current script. They’re seriously considering you for the director’s chair for a future film, but... there’s a catch.”

Of course. There’s always a catch. “Let me guess,” I sigh. “They’re worried about my fuckboy rep?”

“Bingo. The tabloids have had a field day with you the past few years. A different woman almost every week, sometimes two. Not to mention the incident last month where the paparazzi got shots of you and Carrie Southern coming out of the Chateau Royale at three a.m.”

Carrie is a Victoria’s Secret model I met about a year after I moved to Los Angeles. We’ve never hooked up.

“She’s actually just a friend—”

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Hank barks, cutting me off.

“You know as well as I do it’s all about perception.

” He huffs out a breath. “My point is this: The studio heads want someone reliable behind the camera. Someone stable. Not some fuckboy who gets easily distracted by some hot piece of ass or goes around blowing their budget on parties and getting high.”

“I don’t do drugs,” I mutter, running my hand through my hair.

“I know that. And you know that. But perception is reality in this town. They need to see you as director material, not just some hotshot actor who takes his shirt off in most of his movies.”

Rising from the couch, I trudge over to the floor-to-ceiling windows of my Hollywood Hills home. The view of Los Angeles sprawls out beneath me as a mass of twinkling lights stretching toward the horizon.

Fifteen years of hard work got me to where I am today, and now my reputation as a womanizer might just cost me the one thing I want most.

I should’ve seen this coming.

Already dreading what I know his answer will be, I growl, “Just spit it out, Hank.”

“Clean up your act. No more nightclubs. No more models. No more scandalous photos with random hook-ups. You’re going back to your hometown in a few weeks to scout locations for your next film, right?”

When I brought the script I had written to the studio big wig’s, they loved it. And when they asked where I got the idea, and I told them it’s loosely based on my experiences as a kid, they suggested we film it in my hometown. For authenticity.

My stomach tightens. I haven’t been back to Lakeside since... “Yeah,” I confirm, my voice a hoarse rasp as I shove the vision of a girl with green eyes and black hair out of my mind.

“A small town away from the spotlight would be the perfect place to find yourself a nice girl. An opportunity to find someone steady. Let the paparazzi catch you having coffee, holding hands, looking all domestic and shit. Show the execs you can be the responsible, committed guy they want heading up their projects.”

“You want me to find someone to fake date?”

“I don’t care if it’s fake or not. Just make it look convincing. Make the world believe Rowan Cole has finally grown up and is ready to settle down.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose again. “Hank, I can’t just walk into town, find some random woman and ask her to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

“Why the hell not? You’re Rowan fucking Cole. Women throw themselves at you all the time.”

“That’s different. I’d be asking someone to lie. To put themselves in an otherwise precarious position.”

“Not if you’re actually dating,” he counters. “You’re overthinking this, Rowan. Just find a nice local girl, take her out, show her a good time. Who knows? Maybe you’ll actually like her.”

I snort out a laugh. “Right. And if I can’t?”

“You could always give them some sort of incentive. Pay them. Make them sign an NDA, of course. You know the drill.”

“Dammit, Hank.”

“Look, I’m just saying your reputation is making the studio nervous. If you want them to take a chance on you as a director, you need to show them you’ve matured. That you can commit to something for longer than just a quick fuck or a weekend fling.”

Commitment. The word alone makes me break out in a cold sweat. The only thing I’ve ever committed myself to is my career.

“How ‘bout someone from your past. Maybe an old girlfriend?” he asks. My agent is on a roll. “That could be some amazing PR. The studio would eat that shit up. I mean, you’re making a movie based on where you grew up, what better way to promote it than for you to reunite with the girl next door, so to speak.”

My chest tightens when a beautiful smile full of sunshine pops back into my head.

Nope. Get your head outta your ass, Ro. Not gonna go there.

“I’m only going to be there for a few days. Then I’m coming back to L.A. There won’t be enough time for that.”

“Yeah. But you’ll be going back to film a couple of months later. So, between now and then… stay low and keep your dick in your pants.”

After hanging up with Hank, I toss my phone onto the couch with a frustrated groan. This is exactly what I don’t need right now—more pressure to be something I’m not. But if I want this directing gig, I’m gonna have to play along.

I feel a sudden urge to talk to someone who’s always been straight with me, even when we were kids. Especially if it’s the last thing I want to hear.

The phone rings three times before I hear Logan’s familiar voice. “Hey! If it isn’t Hollywood’s favorite heartthrob. Been a minute. How ya doin’?”

Despite my sour mood, I can’t help but smile. “I’m good man. You?”

“Livin’ the dream.”

I rest my head against the back of the couch and stare up at the ceiling. “Got some news.”

“Let me guess. You’ve finally realized acting is only for pretty boys and not an ugly fucker like you?”

“No, asshole,” I laugh. “I’m actually coming back to Lakeside in a few weeks. Studio wants me to scout locations for my movie.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and I picture Logan’s eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “No shit? You’re actually coming home?”

“Just for scouting, but yeah. I wrote a script that’s loosely based on growing up in Lakeside, and the studio heads think filming there would make it even more believable.”

“That’s awesome, man!” Logan’s enthusiasm practically vibrates through the phone.

He’s always been a fun, upbeat guy. A daredevil of sorts.

But Logan does have a serious side. When we were kids, he was always rescuing kittens out of trees or helping local firemen fish baby ducks out of storm drains.

“It’ll be good to see your ugly mug in person for once.

Wait—does this mean you’re finally getting behind the camera? ”

“That’s the plan. If I can convince the studio I’m responsible enough.”

“Ha! Yeah right,” he teases. I grin. Always giving me shit, this guy. “So, when are you coming home?”

A pang hits my heart at the word home.

“Three weeks. I’ll only be in town for a few days.”

“Great. I just finished the advanced Fire Search and Rescue training I told you about. Got promoted as Lakeside’s new fire captain. I’ll be taking over in a couple of months when the current captain retires.”

“Congrats, man! That’s huge.” I’m genuinely happy for him. Logan has always been passionate about his work. He’s more than earned this.

“Thanks. Planning on moving back a little early. Rented a small one-bedroom right next door to the station house. Nothing too fancy, but the location is perfect. I should be settled in by the time you get here.”

Suddenly, it dawns on me I haven’t thought about where I would be staying. I run a frustrated hand through my hair. “Speaking of places to stay, I need to have my assistant look into booking a hotel or private Airbnb.”

“Good luck,” Logan snorts. “Tourist season is in full swing. Do you remember what it was like when we were kids? How busy it could get at certain times of the year?”

“Barely.”

“Lakeside has gotten even bigger, my friend. Still has small town vibes. Now, it’s anything but. Every rental and hotel in every town within twenty miles is probably booked solid.”

“Shit, I didn’t even think about that.”

“Don’t sweat it. You can crash on my couch. It’s not the Four Seasons, but it should be comfortable enough for a few days.”

Relief washes over me. “You sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Fuck off. Like you haven’t slept in worse conditions during our camping trips. Remember that time in Yosemite when it rained for three days straight and everything we owned got soaked?”

“Don’t remind me,” I groan. “Pretty sure I’ve still got mold growing in places that’ve never seen the light of day.”

We burst out laughing. It feels good—familiar. Despite the distance between us and our time apart between planned visits, Logan and I have managed to stay close. Our week-long camping trips every summer have become a sacred tradition, even if my shooting schedule forces us to reschedule sometimes.

“Hey. You should stop by and see Lizzy while you’re here,” Logan says carefully. “She’s doing really well. Working at our local tattoo shop, Skin & Ink. Painting up a storm, too.”

My stomach drops. I haven’t allowed myself to think about Lizzy much over the years, but whenever I do, it’s like a punch to the gut.

Not to mention I’ve never told Logan about what happened between us.

If he found out, he’d probably murder me, cut me up into little bitty pieces and bury me deep in the woods somewhere.

He knows we were close as kids, but never pushed me about why I don’t talk about her, or how I change the subject anytime he brings her up.

“I don’t know, man. I’m only going to be there for three days. My schedule is going to be pretty packed. Probably won’t have much time to socialize.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “You can make time. She talks about you sometimes, you know.”

That catches me off guard. “She does?”

“Well, okay. Maybe not. More like she bitches at me if I try to talk her into seeing one of your movies. She’s been closed off about anything that has to do with you since you left for California.”

I’m not sure what to make of that. After my grandparents passed, I went to live with the Cade’s my senior year of high school. Things between Lizzy and I were... tricky at first. Until they weren’t. And that’s putting it mildly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Logan. It’s been a really long time.”

“All I’m saying is, you two used to be close. Might be good for you both to reconnect. I wish you would tell me what happened between you two.”

“Nothing that matters. I’m not the same kid anymore,” I counter, a defensive edge creeping into my tone.

“None of us are, Rowan.” He blows out a breath. “How ‘bout we play it by ear?”

Damn it. Fucker’s not gonna to let this go. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking. So, tell me more about this new movie of yours. Am I going to be portrayed as the devastatingly handsome best friend who gets all the girls?”

Grateful for the subject change, I chuckle. “In your dreams, dickhead. Your character is the sidekick who’s always getting into trouble.”

“Sidekick? Oh, hell no!”

As we fall into our regular banter, I ignore the knot twisting in my stomach. Going back to Lakeside means facing my past—facing Lizzy for the first time in almost fifteen years.

At least I’ve got some time to figure out how to avoid her. The real challenge will be evading her when I go back to make the movie—for three whole months.