He wasn’t just a caring son, as she’d thought. He was a caring son and dad.

Once Yadiel and Jasmine had plates piled high with food—arroz con pollo, pastelitos, tostones, and fruit on the side—she led him to the dining area to eat. She had a feeling their eyes were bigger than their stomachs, but they’d had fun selecting the food and talking about their favorite dishes. Yadiel revealed that his abuelo y bisabuelos owned a restaurant, which Jasmine had already known, so the kid had lots of opinions about Puerto Rican food.

Ashton followed, stiff and silent, while Jasmine’s conversation with Yadiel shifted to the Avengers. In the dining area, Jasmine and Yadiel sat at a round table with four chairs around it, but Ashton remained standing by the door. She tamped down her anguish and got a bunch of napkins for Yadiel, in case he was anything like her nephews. Despite Jillian’s best efforts, the boys ate like monsters.

“How do you know about superheroes?” Yadiel asked her through a mouthful of rice.

“I have nephews,” she told him. “I think you’d get along with them. They like superheroes and LEGOs too.”

Yadiel was an easy kid to talk to, but Jasmine couldn’t ignore Ashton hovering like a nervous shadow in the doorway. His eyes were cold and distant, his expressive mouth set in a firm line. Everything about him was aloof and unapproachable . . . just like how he’d been when they first started working together.

It hurt her heart to see him this way. He’d come so far over the past few months, opening up and letting people in. Not just her, but the rest of the cast. Nino looked up to him, Peter sought him out daily to discuss baseball, and Lily had named him her official dominoes nemesis. Watching Ashton retreat behind the mask he’d worn at the beginning made Jasmine sadder than anything else that had happened between them.

If she thought about it further, she was going to weep, so she focused on Yadiel, who’d pulled a LEGO mini-figure from his pocket and was enumerating the toy’s many cool features.

Jasmine looked up as a man wearing a pale blue guayabera shirt strolled into the dining area. He was shorter than Ashton, his skin darker and more lined, but he was unmistakably Ashton’s father. They had the same jawline, the same stride, and the same taste in shirts.

As he approached the table where Jasmine and Yadiel sat, his face creased into a smile and he held out a hand. “Hola, Jasmine. Soy Ignacio, el padre de este cabrón aquí.” He jerked his chin to indicate Ashton.

Yadiel let out a delighted giggle at hearing his grandfather call his dad a dumbass. Over by the door, Ashton muttered something under his breath and his scowl deepened.

Jasmine grinned and took Ignacio’s hand, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Hola, Ignacio. ¿Cómo está usted?”

He winked and took a seat on the other side of Yadiel. “Call me Nacho.”

Ashton let out an audible sigh.

Ignacio picked at the food on Yadiel’s plate as he talked to Jasmine about the show, her family, and where her grandparents had been born in Puerto Rico. He was a sweet, charming man, with as many opinions about food as his grandson. Jasmine had a flash of a younger Ignacio sitting and eating with Ashton when he was Yadiel’s age. But no, Ashton would have still been Ángel Luis then. She imagined Ashton as Ángel Luis at different ages. Lighter in demeanor and more carefree, before the stress of protecting his family amid the chokehold of fame had worn him down, compelling him to erect walls around himself. Part of her wished she could have known him then, but she’d grown to love the man he’d become, the man who expressed the depth of his emotions through other characters. The one who’d finally cracked open the door and given her a glimpse inside. Having seen what was within, she could even love the walls for keeping him safe, even though she thought he was being a royal jackass for locking her out again.

Finally, Ashton checked his watch and stepped forward. “I’m due on set soon. Pa, can you take Yadi back to my dressing room? Hang out there for a little while, and then I’ll finish giving you the tour.”

Yadiel turned big, irresistible eyes on Jasmine, the same shape as Ashton’s but a lighter brown. “Will you come with us?”

Her heart felt torn in two. Yes, she absolutely wanted to take Yadiel on a tour of the studio. If Ashton had kept him away from this world, it was probably the boy’s first time on set. She’d offered to give Jillian’s kids a tour, but her sister had implied they might be exposed to something improper, so Jasmine hadn’t asked again.

But it wasn’t just that. She was also dying to see Ashton interact with his son. She wanted to observe the back and forth, how Yadiel pushed boundaries—because that’s what kids did—and the ways Ashton enforced them or capitulated.

Except the look on Ashton’s face made it clear that he didn’t want her to join. After being his scene partner, and his lover, she was an expert at reading his expressions. If it were a college degree, she’d have graduated with honors.

“Maybe,” she hedged. “I might have to film something else.”

It wasn’t just the forbidding set of Ashton’s mouth that made her decline—it was the sheer panic lurking in his eyes. He was scared of her being around his son. She could see that, she just didn’t know why.

“Okay.” Yadiel sounded disappointed, but then, without warning, he launched himself at Jasmine, catching her around the neck in a tight hug and landing a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Bye! Maybe I can meet your nephews someday.”

“Maybe.” She couldn’t help smiling at him as he clambered down and skipped over to take his dad’s hand.

Ignacio rose and picked up the remains of their lunch.

“Un placer,” he told her. A hint of humor twinkled in his eye.

“Igualmente.” She waved as they left the dining room, but at the last second, Ashton looked over his shoulder at her.

Pure anguish burned in his gaze, so intense it stole her breath.

For whatever reason, Ashton was utterly conflicted about how well Jasmine had gotten along with his father and son.

Well, he wasn’t the only one. Ignacio and Yadiel were delightful. But she couldn’t keep doing this—pretending to be into him on camera, and pretending not to be into him behind the scenes, where her stupid self had gone and fallen in love with him. For the sake of her heart, she needed to draw a clear line in the sand. And this time, she would not cross it.

IT WAS INCREDIBLY weird to see his family on set. He’d texted Marquita to help him smooth the way with the producers, and she’d come through. Security was so high on a film lot, it was rare to bring guests, but after attaining permission, Ashton had dutifully taken his son and father and grandparents around the interior areas of the lot and introduced them to a few people. And despite Ashton’s own anxiety about driving through the swarm of paparazzi, Yadiel had thought it was “awesome.” On the upside, Yadiel had loved his first studio tour. Ignacio and Peter had hit it off, and Nino had been totally enamored with Yadiel.

And of course, Ignacio and Yadiel had loved Jasmine. Yadiel asked about the “pretty lady” every day, and Ignacio had become insufferable, winking and nudging Ashton at every opportunity.

Standing by the door like a creep while they hit it off gave him plenty of time to wallow in regret. She’d been perfect with them. Listening to Yadiel chatter on about LEGOs and comics, talking to Ignacio about her family. It was all Ashton could do not to throw himself at her feet and beg her to forgive him. Her kindness to his family was more than he deserved. And he was so fucking pissed at himself for not telling her about them sooner.