“Not exactly,” he says, avoiding my gaze. “But I think I probably said enough for her to figure it out. I’m sorry. I know how it looks. I know—”
“So it’s true?” I ask, interrupting him. “You and Violet? You’re still in touch with her? Are you still… Are you…?”
I can’t quite bring myself to finish my sentence. My entire body is trembling, and I’m not sure whether it’s from rage or shock. I just know I want to get away from this room — fromhim— so I can think more clearly about all of this. About how one minute I was sure he was going to tell me he loved me, and the next he’s pulling the ground out from under me by telling me he’s still in touch with his ex.
“No, Lexie. God, no.” Jett stands up, reaching for me, but I’m faster, and, before he can move, I’m standing at the bedroom door, ready to run. Just like I always do when things don’t work out the way I wanted them to.
But no. Not this time. This time I’m going to stay. This time, I’m going to get some answers.
“Why are you really here, Jett?” I ask, my hand on the door handle. My voice is so steady it surprises me. Maybe I’m a better actress than I thought I was.
“I’m here to tell you the truth,” he says desperately. “I’m not in love with Violet, Lexie. I swear to you, I’m not. Look, it’s true that she’s been messaging me lately.She’sbeen messagingme, though. Not the other way around. I promise you, I feel absolutely nothing for her. That’s all in the past. The distant past. It’s done.”
“For you, maybe,” I say, still using that weirdly calm tone. “Obviously not for her if she’s still contacting you.”
“No, obviously not.” He runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Although, honestly, she might say she wants us to get back together, but I’m not sure I believe her. I’m pretty sure she wants the Lady Macbeth role, and she thinks being with me again would be a good way to get it.”
“Right. If you say so.”
I don’t care about Violet and her career aspirations. All I care about is Jett — and whether or nothecares aboutme.
“I do say so.” His eyes are blazing as he crosses the room to stand in front of me. “There’s nothing going on between me and Violet, Lexie,” he insists. “Absolutely nothing.”
On his knee, the phone lights up with a message alert. It doesn’t ping this time, but I can see the screen — and I can read the name that’s written on it.
VIOLET.
Suddenly, I’ve had enough.
With a sob that feels like it’s coming right from my very soul, I turn and run down the stairs, Jett close behind me. I’m vaguely aware of him calling my name, but all I can think about is how stupid I’ve been, thinking I could compete with someone like Violet King, three-time winner of Maxim’sWorld’s Sexiest Womanaward. Me, Lexie Steele. Who user5634 on Instagram once described as, “a living Troll doll with thighs that could crush a city”.
I fling open the front door and find myself staring at Scarlett, who’s standing on the doorstep, her hand raised as if she’s about to knock. Behind her, there’s a sudden roar from the assembled paparazzi, who seem to have doubled in number since the last time I saw them.
“Lexie, is it true that you were just with Jett for the money?” one of them shouts. “Or do you fancy yourself as an actress, too?”
“Um, don’t feel like you have to answer that,” says Scarlett, who has the grace to look ever so slightly shamefaced about the level of chaos she’s unleashed here. “Just go back inside. I’ll try to persuade them to go.”
My legs shaking with nerves, I start to close the door, but then a flashbulb goes off in my face, and something inside me snaps.
“I’m not an actress,” I sob, pushing Scarlett aside and flinching as the cameras go off in unison. “I’ve never been an actress — well, other than accidentally.”
My trembling legs somehow carry me down the path toward the crowd of photographers, moving almost as if they have a mind of their own. Halfway there, I have a change of heart and almost turn back, then I spot McTavish at the back of the crowd, a bemused expression on his face and a sausage roll in his hand. Somehow, the sight of him gives me courage.
“I didn’t do it for money, either,” I say, squaring my shoulders and raising my chin defiantly. “I’m not interested in Jett’s money. I never was. And I know it must be really easy to look at someone like me and think you know me, but you don’t. None of you know me. Well, except McTavish,” I amend, seeing his blonde head bob up above the crowd. “He kind of does. But other than him, none of you have the slightest clue about my life, or about Jett’s,” I go on, my voice stronger now. “You don’t know us. So you can keep trying to paint me as the villain if you like. Just because you say it, it doesn’t mean it’s true.”
A hush has fallen over the crowd. Microphones are raised in my direction, cameras whirring silently, all waiting for whatever I’m going to say next. Which is awkward, really, because I have absolutelyno freaking ideawhat I’m going to say next.
“So whydidyou do it?” prompts Scarlett helpfully, from somewhere off to the side. “Why were you with Jett, if it wasn’t about money?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” My voice comes out somewhere between a wail and a sob. I really hope the sound on those cameras isn’t great. “I did it because I love him. That’s it.”
“And I love her too,” says a voice from behind me. “That’s all any of you need to know.”
I turn round so quickly my head spins. Jett has followed me out of the house and is standing behind me. I have no idea how long he’s been standing there, or how much he heard. What I do know for sure is that he’s looking at me as if I’m the only person here — and if he’s hating every second of being out here in public, in the full glare of the media spotlight, there’s absolutely no sign of it.
“Come with me?” he asks, those familiar green eyes of his still fixed on mine as he holds out his hand to me, completely ignoring the cameras around us. “Come for a walk?”
A walk?
