A Starlit Summer Kate Frost (best romantic novels to read txt) 📖

his pint and knocked it gently against Jenna’s glass. ‘Are me and you okay?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I never wanted you to get hurt, and honestly, Milo had the best intentions for you. Yes, you were unwittingly helping him, but he genuinely thought it would raise your profile and open up all sorts of opportunities. He hadn’t factored in that you might be into someone.’

‘It’s not your fault, Timothy.’ She touched his shoulder. ‘And yeah, it’s brought me opportunities but it’s messed up my relationship with the first person I’ve really cared about in a long time. Without the truth – and trust me, he doesn’t believe me – I can’t see how I’m ever going to get him back. But like I just said to them.’ Jenna indicated to where Lily and Amanda were talking to Ade on the other side of the pub. ‘Maybe it’s for the best; if I was with him I’d only end up with my heart broken by the end of the summer.’

‘I’m really sorry, Jenna. Truly I am. The one thing I’m happy about though is that you’re not shallow – I mean, Milo had you pigeon-holed as a blonde, blue-eyed, beautiful actress with a modelling background and figured you’d jump at the chance he was offering you. But you don’t play by the rules, do you?’

‘So, because I’m blonde and pretty he figured I’d sell my soul?’

‘Heidi has.’

Jenna folded her arms. ‘Yeah, well, I’m not Heidi. She sold her soul a long time ago.’

‘I heard there was bad blood between the two of you.’

‘Nothing stays a secret, does it?’ Jenna downed the rest of her gin. ‘If you’re truly sorry, then tell Milo to back down about me – leave me out of everything. If Heidi’s willing to be gossip for him, then let her. You don’t need me.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

It felt like the longest week since she’d got to Cornwall. Jenna hated wishing time away but with most of Friday off, she decided to go home and visit her parents. She’d not seen them since filming began and she was craving normality and home comforts.

It was odd driving away from the winding narrow roads, leaving behind picturesque fishermen’s cottages and the glinting blue of the sea for motorways edged by fields, which eventually turned into the built-up city she was used to. Home. Except, as she let herself into her flat and closed the door on the traffic and exhaust fumes, she realised she’d never felt less at home. Most of her clothes were down at the cottage in Cornwall, and as she was renting a furnished place, she actually had few belongings of her own: a handful photos, a toaster and a kettle didn’t really make a home. Her parents had insisted she stay with them for the weekend, and apart from checking her flat and collecting her post, she wasn’t going to hang about.

After spending weeks in the cottage in Cornwall, she knew she never really thought of her flat as home. It was a place to crash after a long day, but that was about it – unlike Bramble Cottage, a place she’d truly fallen in love with. She closed the door to her flat and locked it. The communal hallway smelt damp and stale and the carpet was grubby from numerous feet and tyre marks. Two bikes leant against the tired-looking cream wall. She gathered the post that had been left out for her on the shelf above the radiator. Not that it was ever actually on. In winter, the hallway was cold and unwelcoming, and she was always glad to get into her small but warm flat.

Jenna got back into her car and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, delaying getting going in the rush hour traffic. She felt foolish, at the age of twenty-seven, being worried about seeing her parents, but they weren’t used to witnessing their daughter’s supposed love life played out in the media. She wasn’t used to it either. She wasn’t used to paparazzi shouting her name and trying to get a reaction as she left set. Everything about the last couple of weeks was far removed from her normal life. Her taste of fame was not as exciting as she thought it would be.

She pulled up outside her parents’ house and switched off the engine. She hesitated, acknowledging that the sick feeling in her stomach was the thought of her parents being disappointed in her. She got out, her legs still stiff from hours spent driving and grabbed her overnight bag from the boot. Her mum had the door open and was standing on the step before Jenna made it halfway up the garden path.

‘Hiya, love.’ Her mum wrapped her in a hug. Jenna sank into her arms realising how much she’d needed to see her parents. Kath pulled away and looked her up and down. ‘Are you okay? You look tired.’

‘It’s a long drive.’

‘A cuppa is what you need.’ She ushered her into the hallway and closed the front door behind them.

Jenna left her bag on the floor and followed her mum into the kitchen. She sat at the table while her mum fussed about, switching on the kettle, pulling two mugs from the cupboard and dropping in teabags.

‘Where’s Dad?’

‘Not back from work yet.’

Jenna looked at her watch. ‘I’ve kinda lost track of time today.’

‘Were you filming this morning?’ Kath slid the biscuit tin across the table.

‘Only for an hour.’

‘Well, at least you can have a rest for a day or two now, can’t you.’

Jenna nodded and hunted about in the tin for a chocolate digestive.

‘Have they been feeding you well on set?’

‘We always get fed well, so yes. I’ve been eating if that’s what you’re worried about.’

Kath placed two cups of tea on the table and sat down. ‘I’m not worried about that. Well, I am worried; I’m worried because I know how stress and anxiety have affected you in the past. And the last time I spoke to you, well, you sounded