At that moment, the front door flies open, and a small, dark-skinned woman bounds out.
“Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! Finn Cross is on my freaking lawn!”
J switches the frown to a smile and steps forward. “Courtney! Hi! It’s me—J? We were chatting online…”
Courtney bounds past J and stops in front of me, her eyes sparkling. “Can I have a picture? My friends willnotbelieve this.”
J’s shoulders slump.
My chest rearranges itself, and I do something I’ve never done before.
I smile for a stranger.
“Yeah, I’ll take a picture. But after that, someone over there really wants to talk to you.”
Courtney spins around. “Who?”
J straightens up like a balloon regaining air. Her eyes latch onto mine. For a second, they get dewy and soft—exactly the way they did that night when I told her she could mirror Ace’s phone secretly.
Something crackles in my chest.
It feels like tiny, little fireworks exploding all at once.
I keep telling myself I don’t know what these feelings mean, but it’s becoming harder and harder to deny the truth. There’s only one person who keeps affecting my mood.
And I’m starting to not care about all the reasons I shouldn’t want her.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
J
Finn’s presence is smothering me. He’s sitting way too close to me on Courtney’s couch, his giant leg pressed against mine.
“Go over there,” I hiss, keeping an eye on my watch. I want to concentrate on asking Courtney my questions, and I can’t afford to have my watch beeping and screaming because of Finn Cross.
“There’s no room,” Finn says casually.
I sit up and fling my arm at the three-seater couch. There’s an entirelengthof the sofa empty. He acts like he doesn’t understand and leans back, sprawling out like a king on his throne and pushing me even farther into the corner of the couch.
Flipping David-sculpture, fallen-angel-looking jerk!
Just then, Courtney bounds in with glasses of lemonade. “I’m so sorry I don’t have anything else to offer.”
“This is fine.” I beam a giant smile at her. “Thank you.”
“No.Thank you.” Courtney’s eyes are locked on Finn. She hasn’t stopped looking at him since she ran out the front door, asking for a picture. “I still can’t believe one of The Kings is sitting in my living room, drinking my lemonade. This is unreal.”
I wrap my fingers around the cup, struck by a sudden wave of annoyance. She’s mentioned how unreal this is several times.
“What color are your eyes, Finn?” Courtney blurts. And then she covers her mouth and giggles. “Sorry. I just… from the pictures online, they looked black, but right now, they’re almost light brown.”
I try not to throw up. Is this what Courtney calls “flirting”? It’s so desperate, and why is Finn just sitting there and taking it? Why isn’t he threatening to killherin her sleep the way he does to me?
The rockstar obviously likes the attention.
Well, screw him.
I’m on business, and I won’t let Finn and his gorgeous face steamroll this opportunity.
