“Before you go back to bed, make sure you put up a picture of yourself on your IG feed. Shane and I’s social media teams are navigating yours and Gallan’s accounts, and people wanna know why you aren’t posting anything. Maybe just a quick, cute little selfie to tell your readers that you’re doing great and are busy working on a new book?”
“Uh…” My mouth went dry.
“Relax; it’s just a photo, Zaira. Nothing you haven’t done before.”
“But is it really necessary?” I asked.
He sighed. “To make things easier for Gallan’s upcoming interviews and press junkets in England – yes. And also to quiet down the whispering tabloids.”
I rubbed a hand over my face. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
He gave me a thumbs up. “That’s my girl.” He looked ahead suddenly. “Ugh, someone’s at the door. I gotta go, Z. Have a good sleep, and lemme know what you think of the chocolates! Bye!”
“I will. Bye, D.” I ended the call and sat upright. With a huff, I fixed my hair and face with my hands, straightened my oversize t-shirt, and opened the camera app. I angled my phone in the way I usually did to take my regular selfies, let my hair fall forward just a bit, and pouted slightly before clicking on the shutter button. I glared at the photo for a good minute or two, and then, when I realized I was pretty close to changing my mind, I quickly opened Instagram, used a mild filter on my selfie, and began typing a caption for it.
Hope is my strength.
I followed that phrase with a bit of information about how I was and what I was up to. Once happy with everything – or as happy as I would be – I hit post, and was about to close the app when a like and comment notification popped up on it.
I clicked the heart icon, and licked my chapped lips when I saw Gallan’s name at the very top of my notifications list.
therealgallanliked your photo.
therealgallancommented: God, you’re breathtaking, baby. I love you, and I’m so d*mn ready to show off your new book to the world! Proud boyfriend here:–)
I locked my phone and pressed it to my chest before closing my eyes.
Why did he keep doing this to me?
And how, in the name of everything sane in this world, did he keep succeeding at getting past my freshly cemented walls?
Fuckinghow…
