It took Aslin roughly five minutes to extract Chris from the school girls, who all giggled and blushed their way through goodbyes and thank yous to the actor.
“That was fun.” Chris grinned in the backseat, fifteen minutes later. “Let’s do it again tomorrow.”
Aslin couldn’t help but smile. It had been fun. And he was enjoying himself so much more than he expected. Even when he received a call from Nick—the singer wondering what the hell he’d been thinking letting Holston catch him “with a handful”—Aslin couldn’t stop the warm happiness making itself at home in his chest.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Nigel demanded the moment they walked onto the film set.
“Eating,” Chris shot back. “Got a problem with that, take it up with Aslin.”
The director threw up his hands. “I think I liked it better when you were in awe of him. Or trying to break your hand on his jaw. Can we start now?”
Grinning, Chris tossed his wallet and phone at Rowan. “Take care of that for me, sis?”
Aslin watched her snatch the items from the air, even as she pulled a face at her brother. “I liked you better when you were a snot-nosed kid.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Chris smirked. “Now shut up and let me do my thing.”
“God, you’re pathetic.” Rowan turned and crossed to Chris’s chair and dropped into it with a chuckle. “Remind me to beat the crap out of you later.”
As before, people came running from everywhere, flooding the set with sound and movement. It was such a different soundtrack to what Aslin was used to. He stood back, watching it all. Taking it all in. Listening to it all.
Which was the only reason he heard the splintering wood behind him. The only reason he spun in time to see the large beam erected across the back of the dormitory set crack.
The only reason he was able to slam into Rowan before the beam split in two and smashed to the ground, crushing Chris’s chair.
Chapter Nine
“Why the fuck won’t anyone listen to me?” Rowan ground her teeth. She squeezed the ice pack in her hand, damn near close to throwing it across the dormitory. “I’m fine.” She looked up from where she sat in Nigel’s chair, now up-righted after being knocked over by the falling beam.
Everyone looking at her wore worried frowns. Chris hovered over her like a nervous mother hen. “Sis,” he began.
“Really—” she raised her hand and offered him the ice pack, “—I’m fine.”
His frown deepened before he turned to Aslin. “I don’t believe her.”
The Brit stood silent directly in front of Rowan, his eyes flinty. What he was angry about, Rowan couldn’t fathom.
Behind her, film crew swarmed like frantic bees over the wreckage. She could hear their hushed voices and hissed expletives as they inspected the mess. She heard Warren bark an order at one of the grips, something about, “doing it right the first time, dickwad.”
“Put the ice pack on your head, Rowie,” Chris told her, refusing to take it. “Jesus, I can see the crack in the ground where your head hit it.”
Beside Chris, equally as worried judging by the furrows in his brow, Nigel let out a strangled chuckle.
Rowan glared at them both. “I already told you. My head didn’t hit the ground. It hit Aslin’s shoulder or biceps or something.”
At the mention of Aslin’s name, Chris grabbed the still-silent man’s left hand and shook it. Fast. “You saved my sister, dude. Jesus, you saved my sister.”
Aslin didn’t say a word. He studied Chris for a second before moving his unwavering inspection to the crew and wreckage behind Rowan.
Rowan’s stomach rolled. She’d never seen such an intense expression. Like he was dissecting everything with his gaze.
“I still want to know how it happened.” Nigel frowned some more. “McCreedy!” His shout rose over the commotion. “Get over here.”
The gathering crew shuffled aside, making room for the key grip. Except for Aslin, Rowan noticed. Aslin didn’t move an inch.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Nigel demanded. The pinning glare that had cemented his reputation as a formidable director locked on Warren. “Your guys checked the support structure this morning, right?”
Warren nodded. “All I can figure out is there was a hairline split in the wood, Mr. McQueen. I checked everything myself during lunch, and it was all sound.” He scratched at his cheek and Rowan scrunched up her face at the rank B.O. that assaulted her nose. “The lighting crew was working around the same area yesterday.” He shrugged. “Maybe—”