Production of Viking Moon started on a Saturday, at a time earlier than I thought possible for the day to begin. I dragged my body out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. At five a.m., I had the place to myself. I took my time under the hot water, letting the droplets wake up my body bit by bit. After I’d brushed my teeth, I stood in my robe in front of the closet, trying to decide what an author’s personal assistant would wear.

Gavin Hartley’s image fluttered through my head and my body vibrated at the thought that, in a couple of hours, I’d meet him face-to-face. I wondered if he was as good-looking in real life as he was in the movies and whether he’d be nice or an ego on legs. He probably wouldn’t even notice a lowly assistant like me.

I chose a pair of black pants and a dark green top that buttoned up to my neck. I dried my hair and fluffed it forward in my signature style before applying a coat of mascara and a layer of lip gloss. The girl who peered back at me from the mirror glowered with disapproval. I stuck my tongue out at her and left Reggie asleep in her bed, one arm skimming the floor.

Veronica and I had decided I’d pick her up and drive her to the set, as any good assistant would. I shrank in my seat as she strutted down her driveway like a model on a cement runway. Yet again, she looked like she’d spent hours in front of the mirror. Her navy button-down dress fit like a second skin, and not a single hair dared to stray from its place in her bob. Carefully applied browns and golds made her eyes practically pop from her head. I grimaced. It hardly seemed fair that one person possessed so much pretty.

Veronica crinkled her face in disapproval as she got into my Camry. “How old is this thing?” she asked. “I know for a fact you can afford a better car than this.”

“I like it,” I said with a shrug. “It’s reliable and unassuming, like me. Buckle up.”

Veronica reached for her seat belt and stopped. “Wait. Can you even drive properly? You know, with the whole . . .” She pointed to her ears and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Being deaf doesn’t mean I can’t drive. In fact, I’m more attuned to other senses, like sight. I keep a good watch for things around me My dad actually wanted me to have a special light panel installed that warns me of sirens and stuff, but it seemed unnecessary—”

“Okay, okay, jeez, sorry I asked!” Veronica interrupted me with a raise of her hand. She locked the belt into place. “Let’s go.”

We didn’t talk the entire ride to the set, since it would’ve made driving impossible for me, but out of the corner of my eye, I spotted her playing with the broken radio dial and shaking her head.

My eyes widened as we turned onto the usually quiet street leading to Honeycomb Lake. Trucks and trailers lined the road and dozens of people milled about between them. I spotted a sign with the words SET PARKING handwritten on it and followed its directions. A broad man stepped into the road and put his hand out. When I’d rolled to a stop, he came to my window and held up a clipboard.

“Name?” he asked.

“Aubrey Lynch,” I said. I pointed to Veronica and she gave the guard a smile so brilliant I was thankful for my sunglasses. “I’m her assistant, Elise.”

He looked down at his clipboard and flipped up a page before he nodded. “Go ahead. Nice to meet you, Ms. Lynch. My daughter’s a big fan.”

“Thanks,” I said. The smile dropped off his lips, and I suppressed the urge to grab his clipboard and whack myself in the face with it. “Er, I mean, on behalf of Ms. Lynch.”

He handed me a parking pass to use for the duration of filming and directed us to the set.

“Well,” I said as we got out of the car. I slung my bag over my shoulder. “That wasn’t so hard. I think this will go fine.”

“Whatever,” Veronica said. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses with a symbol on the side I recognized as belonging to a famous designer.

“Nice sunglasses,” I muttered under my breath and shook my head as we followed the signs leading the way to the set. We moved through a group of trees, their trunks painted with fluorescent arrows, and broke into a clearing. I froze and my breath flew out of my body as I saw what lay on the other side.

Veronica turned and peered at me over her sunglasses. “What? What’s wrong now?”

“There’s just . . . there’s so many people.”

“What did you think? It would be us and Gavin Hartley? Suck it up. It takes a lot of people to make a TV show. It’s fine.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the crowds lining the shore. No one stood still in this place. And they all were in a rush. People darted across the beach, talking into cell phones or headsets. Clipboards were the accessory of choice as crew members examined set pieces and checked things off with exaggerated pencil strokes.

When my breath returned to normal and my heart acquired a somewhat steady pace, I took in the rest of the scene. The little lake in town had been transformed into a Viking paradise. A small shack with only three walls stood on the shore to my right. The crest above the door indicated it was Dag’s family’s house. To my left was a similar, larger shack bearing a different family crest. Thora’s house. In the books, they lived across the water from each other, but I supposed the magic of television would somehow convey the distance.

Veronica released my hand and went to talk to one of the crew members, probably to find out where they expected us to go. A large copper-colored object by the shore caught my eye and I took a deep breath. I glanced around to make sure no one would stop me and moved toward the boat. I’d seen smaller models of the boats in my book, but this was the first time I’d been close to a life-size version. It was as though someone had plucked the vessel right out of my head and shoved it into the sand.

I ran my hand over the smooth wood, and my fingers dipped into the carvings at the front. Dag’s family crest again. My breath came out shallow as I bent to get a better look at the etchings. Tears sprang to my eyes. They were so perfect. This was a product of my imagination, and I was able to touch it. I resisted the urge to cry out, and straightened up right into something that smacked into my face with such force, I fell onto my back on the sand.

Pain shimmied up my cheek and behind my eye and the world spun, threatening to go black. I moaned and closed my eyes, willing everything to stand still.

A hand touched mine, making me jump. I opened my eyes. At first, all I saw was the sun, piercing my retinas and blinding me. I moaned again and squinted against the light. Something touched my face and shaded my eyes.

With my vision cleared, I found the bluest eyes I’d ever seen—in person, anyway. I knew those eyes well. I’d seen them in plenty of movies. But I’d always thought they were too perfect, added cosmetically, maybe a product of contact lenses. At that moment, they were real, though. And they stared down at me with real concern.

“Gavin Hartley?” I mumbled.

He nodded and put a hand under my back. With his help, I managed to get into a sitting position. The beach swirled around me with the movement and I blinked it into place. Gavin released me and motioned with his hands.

Are you okay? he signed.

My jaw went slack. You know ASL?

He nodded. My little sister.

How did I not know he had a Deaf sister? I thought I knew everything about him.

How did you know I’m deaf? I asked.

It was hard to watch his hands and not focus on the lock of dark brown hair that fell in front of his face or admire how his plain white T-shirt accented his muscular chest.

People were shouting for you to look out as they moved the other boat and you didn’t look up. His fingers worked slowly—as though he had to contemplate each word before he signed it. When I asked if you were okay, you didn’t answer. I took a chance.

“Oh,” I said, switching back to speaking. “So, I was hit with a boat, then?”

Gavin exhaled as I spoke. “You read lips? Oh, good. My ASL’s a little rusty. I haven’t used it in years.” He paused for the briefest of seconds. “Anyway, yes, you were hit by a boat. But it’s the boat of my enemy, so I’ll make sure when I fight them on-screen, it’s in your honor.”

Heat flashed through my body, and he held out a well-defined arm and pulled me up. I looked out at the lake and wondered if I could jump in, swim to the other end, and keep on going.

Leave it to me to finally meet the actor of my dreams and get myself smacked in the head while doing it.

Well done, Elise.

“You took quite a hit,” he said. “We should have medical check you out.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Really.”

I bent to retrieve my bag from the sand, and my legs buckled as everything blurred around me. Two strong arms encircled my shoulders and stopped me from ending up flat on the beach again.

Gavin met my gaze. “Yeah, I’m definitely taking you to medical. You’re bleeding.”

He touched the cut beside my eye and I shrank away from him. I groaned as pain rippled through my head with the movement.

“Okay,” I relented. “Maybe I can at least get an aspirin for this headache. Where’s medical?”

“I’ll show you. Here, lean on me.”

He released my shoulders, but left one arm draped over me so I could lean on him. I inhaled against his T-shirt. He smelled like those cinnamon hearts people with a love life received on Valentine’s Day. I licked my lips. I wondered if he tasted like them, too.

Gavin hitched my bag over his free shoulder and led me to a tent with a red plus sign painted over the entrance. The tent was equipped with first aid kits, defibrillators, and a tired-looking cot in the corner.

It was also deserted.

“Crap,” Gavin said. “The nurse is probably out helping with something else. First day is always full of injuries. You know, hammers, nails, and all the cuts and bruises that go with them.”

“It’s okay.” I spotted aspirin on a shelf and some bottled water in the corner. I grabbed the medicine and popped a couple of white pills into my mouth, chasing them with disgustingly warm water. “That’s all I need.”

Gavin sorted through one of the white kits on a table and shook his head. “We at least need to clean up that cut. Here, come on.”

He grabbed a brown bottle, some gauze, and bandages, and led me to the cot. The mattress sank under our weight and I glanced down to make sure it wasn’t going to collapse beneath us. Gavin’s hand touched my chin as he tilted my face to his.

Now that the sun wasn’t in my eyes and the aspirin dulled the ache in my head, I finally got a better look at him. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he was even hotter in person. His features looked like they’d been chiseled by a skilled artist’s hands. If it wouldn’t have made him think I was a crazy person, I might’ve looked toward the sky and told whoever was up there they’d done some good work, indeed.

Without warning, Gavin whipped my hair off my face and tucked it behind my ear. I instantly pushed him away and looked down at the floor. He tilted my chin to him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his fingers soft against my neck. “It’s okay. But we need to clean the cut so it doesn’t get infected. Also, you have blood on your face. I know this show is about Vikings, but I can’t have the crew panicking about the tiny girl covered in blood.”

I studied his eyes, expecting to find the same disturbed expression I’d grown accustomed to when people noticed my scar. All I found in the rivers of blue was kindness and worry for my well-being. I straightened my spine and stopped squirming.

Gavin dumped some liquid onto a cotton ball and moved to the cut on my face.

“This might sting,” he warned. I nodded my consent and he touched the cotton to my face. I winced and gritted my teeth as the peroxide hit the open wound. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do this part fast. By the way, I’m Gavin.”

I relaxed as he pulled the evil cotton ball of pain from my face. “I know who you are, of course. You know, I’m breathing and all.”

“But I don’t know you. All I have to go by is that you were fascinated by the boats and are pretty tough when it comes to being smacked in the face with one.”

“Elise,” I said. “I’m Elise. Aubrey Lynch’s assistant.”

He ripped open the package of gauze. The bottle of water I’d used earlier sat open on the table beside us and he poured some of it onto the fabric before wiping it down my face. He skimmed my scar, causing me to shiver, yet still he made no mention of it.

Instead, he said, “Aubrey Lynch? She wrote the Viking Moon books, right? I have to confess, I haven’t actually read them yet.”

I forced down a laugh as he tore into a bandage. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s not that I’m not interested in them. I mean, obviously I am or I wouldn’t have accepted the role. But I don’t want to know what happens to Dag, you know? I feel like it might hinder my performance.”

“Do you think you’ll ever read them?”

“Maybe.” He tossed the empty packages and bloody gauze into a trash can. “I guess it depends on how crazy the fans get about it.”

I pressed the bandage down on my forehead before whisking my hair back to its normal position. “It’s a pretty intense fandom. But I’m sure you’re no stranger to overactive fans.”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “True. Still, I’m kind of nervous. This is a totally different thing than what I usually do. People are already fans of the series and I don’t want to screw that up. It’ll be good to talk to Aubrey and make sure I’m doing things the way she imagined.”

“Right.” I traced a line on the tarp floor with the toe of my canvas shoe. “Well, I’m sure she’ll keep you on track. I mean, that’s why they invited her here, isn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

Gavin grinned and my head spun, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of his perfect teeth or from the head wound.

He brushed my hair over my shoulder to make one last check on my bandage. His breath whispered against my cheek, cooler than the suffocating heat around us.

“Well.” He stood. “That’s the best I can do. I don’t think it needs stitches or anything. I’d better get you back to Aubrey. I’m sure she’s wondering what happened to her assistant.”

“Right. I’m sure she is.” I hoped he couldn’t hear the sarcasm dripping from my words.

Gavin held out a hand. I let him pull me off the cot and into his arms. I was struck again by the warmth of his body. He released me and we shuffled out of the tent. I blinked against the sunlight and realized I no longer had my sunglasses. They’d probably been knocked off when I collided with the boat. Great.

We headed back to the entrance of the set and Veronica pounced on me like a tiger on a mouse.

“Where the hell have you been?” she said.

“I, uh, I got hit by a boat.” I lifted my hair to show her the bandage.

“Seriously? Leave it to you. Now come with me. The director’s asking me questions and I have no clue what he wants. I need your help to—”

She stopped as her eyes skimmed my shoulder. I glanced back at Gavin and he gave her a smile and held out his hand.

“Gavin Hartley,” he said. “I assume you’re Aubrey Lynch?”

Veronica smoothed her hair and straightened her ridiculously expensive sunglasses. The coldness with which I’d been greeted melted like gelato on a hot day. Her smile was all sugar and cream. “That’s right. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Gavin said. “We’re going to have to sit and have a chat about your vision for Dag soon.”

“Of course. That would be wonderful. Do you happen to have your phone on you?”

Gavin reached into his perfectly tight jeans and produced the latest version of the most popular smartphone. Veronica typed in a few numbers and handed it back, once again flashing him her perfectly white teeth and batting her long lashes. “There’s my number. Call me anytime to talk about the books or . . . whatever.”

His smile was more dazzling than the sun, thanks in part to Hollywood dentistry. “Will do. Well, I have to get to wardrobe for a fitting. You’re okay, Elise?”

I nodded and glanced at Veronica, whose face snapped to mine. Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. Gavin tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention.

Nice to meet you, he signed. He paused. Do you have a sign name?

I bit my lip. Sign names were a unique thing in Deaf culture. They were basically a sort of sign language nickname someone could use instead of hand-spelling your entire name. My sign name had been given to me by the kids in my Deaf school, and I’d never fully embraced it. I didn’t share it with many people, but the fact that Gavin even understood what a sign name was gave me a confidence I wasn’t used to.

I formed the letter e with my right hand and traced it down my cheek, the ridged scar tissue pressing against my flesh. I’m the girl with the scar.

I swallowed and stared at the ground, only to feel his hand on my chin. He leaned in and kissed the spot on my cheek where my fingers had just been. His lips, unlike the rest of him, were soft.

He traced an e down his own face to show he’d learned my sign name. It’s a strong name, he signed. Thank you for teaching it to me. I’ll see you later. Try not to get hit by any more boats, okay?

I could only nod before he handed me my bag and headed down the beach. He took his sweet scent and my newfound boldness with him. The only proof he’d been so close lay in the tingles that spread across my cheek where his lips had touched.