“Shh.”She walks almost catlike, slinky and slow.When she gets within reach, the acrylic of her pointer finger makes contact with my chest before she drags it along my shirt around my shoulders.“You know...”she says from somewhere behind me.I close my eyes and try not to move, react.I know only where she is by her touch.“I think you’re very attractive, and I know you think I’m attractive...”Her other hand joins the first, skating over my shoulder blades, down the side of my waist, before wrapping around my middle.I put one hand over hers and one on the towel.
“Yes, you’re a very pretty girl, but need I remind you we’re not actually in a relationship?I’m pretty sure you hate me under whatever all this is.”I turn, breaking her bind, to face her.She looks up, undeterred.
“So?What does me liking you have to do with anything?”Both hands run up the front of my chest before attaching themselves around my neck.My heartbeat picks up to a gallop and the room starts to spin in a panic.
“Stop.Get off.You have to go.”My voice comes out loud and harsh, scaring the both of us.“I’m sorry, Gabby.I can’t do this.”
She slides from my waist without a word and leaves the room.I slump to the floor, waiting for my breathing to settle.What is wrong with me?
Chapter 39
Tate
“Heyyyy, Jan, how are you?”I call sweetly as the door slides to a shut behind me.
She looks at me like she just tried a new food, and it didn’t go well.In her defense, this is not a well-thought-out plan.When I say not well-thought-out, I mean, I didn’t think before I hopped on a plane with my sister and her new fiancé to Los Angeles in an attempt to get tickets to the last show of American Icon so that Tim—whom my sister is engaged to, if you hadn’t heard—could cheer on his lifelong pal, Levi, who also happens to be the subject of the majority of my thoughts.But he doesn’t know that and neither does Jan, so as I stand in the most insanely large, bigger-than-my-new apartment office, I’m going to not mention any of that and just wing it!
“Tate, it’s too late to beg for your spot back.The finale is in three days, and as much as I love a plot twist, it’s over.”She stands to move one pile of paper to another, and then repeats the movement.
I lean forward.“Are you looking for something?Maybe I can help.”
She looks up and curses under her breath.“I can’t find my readers and I’m useless without them.”
“Here, let me help you.”I get up and move over to her desk.She watches me as I move, narrowing her eyes as I get closer.I start lifting stacks of paper and folders, trying to see if anything will fall out from them, when I spot a pair of thin, wire-rimmed glasses between her keyboard and monitor.They’re tucked in such a way that they almost look to be a part of the system.
“Are these them?”I offer, lifting them up to her.
“Those are them.”She grabs them from my grasp and slides them up the bridge of her nose.“Thank you.Now what can I help you with?If social media is any indication, congrats on your label and tour.”
“Thank you.Everything has happened so fast...I’m really grateful.”
I watch as she leans back in her office chair.It whines against her weight.Her gaze is directed out her massive wall-sized window overlooking downtown.LA is as I left it.Still on.Still moving.“Grateful, but are you happy?”she asks, still not looking at me.
“Happy?”
“You’ve always been grateful, Tate.You ooze optimism and positivity.Even when you were on the show playing my game.But are you happy?”
