She slides one last look in Geofferson’s direction as we cross the threshold to where the real party is happening. “No, but it can wait. I’ll give you ten bucks to go back in there, walk right up to the douche and pretend like you’re happy to see him, then mutter to someone after you stroll away that you pity the way his career is about to tank without your support.”
“I’d do it, but I couldn’t handle the press coverage when he gets lucky and I end up wrong. And also, it might make me puke to be that confrontational.”
She wrinkles her nose. “We seriously need to get you in touch with my therapist.”
“We probably do.”
“Fine. What you need is a revenge boyfriend. Someone evenbetterthan Geofferson.”
Cooper Rock’s smiling face flashes through my mind, and I instantly squash the vision.
Or try to.
It’s been five weeks since he crashed my meet-and-greet in Copper Valley, and I’m hyper aware that the Fireballs have an away series here in Los Angeles this week—they beat my home team about an hour ago—and that he’s friends with Cash Rivers, the Bro Code member from Copper Valley, Virginia, who went on to become a movie star after the boy band broke up.
Yep.
Cash is a Fireballs fan too.
So Cooper could be here tonight.
Which would be awful.
I don’t want to see Cooper Rock. I don’t want to think about Cooper Rock. I don’t want to even know that Cooper Rock exists. The man has a way of getting under my skin, andno.
Cooper didn’t use me the way Geofferson did, but he left abruptly, and I’d never—ever—fallen so hard for anyone the way I fell for him in those three days we were together. Not before and definitely not since. When he told me he had to get back to baseball, but that he’d call, and then he didn’t…and didn’t…and didn’t…and then went out and was photographed kissing someone else the same way he’d been kissing me…
It was my first real taste of heartbreak, and it changed me. The whole thing feels like a lifetime ago and yesterday all at once.
Especially being here and having to face Geofferson again.
I shake my head at Aspen. “No. I don’t want a revenge boyfriend. I’m working on me first and relationships only when I’m ready and he’s right and not a douche.” Hence my reputation as an ice queen.
God forbid a woman politely decline a few dates because she needs to put herself first to heal after the trauma of realizing that the man she thought she was going to marry was only using her to kickstart his own success. It doesn’t matter how politely you say no. It’s stillno, and I’m apparently not supposed to use that word.
“You should date Davis Remington.”
I choke on a laugh, the whole idea startling me enough that my stomach quits gurgling for a moment. “Yes, because dating a reclusive former boy band guy who has nothing to do with the industry anymore and never wants to be seen in public isrevenge. That’ll make so many ripples with the pictures of us that don’t exist.”
“It would.” She grins. “The mystery factor, Waverly. Think of the mystery factor. You probably don’t even have to date him. You can just spread therumorthat you know where he is and you’re dating him.”
“I could find out where he is in like five seconds—hello, we’re at his former bandmate’s house, and Ihaveseen himin personin the past two years—and no.”
“Can I pretend date him?”
“Not untilafterwe’ve established thatyoucan be a star without having to date your way to the top.”
Her laugh lights up the entire pool deck, and at least a dozen people turn to stare at us.
And I mean A-listers and Grammy winners and basically half the movers-and-shakers in the film and music industries.
Aspen blinks as her gaze sweeps around at the sudden attention, and she drops her voice, which takes on a slight waver. “I solemnly promise to make you proud.”
Which, thankfully, seems to be the only thing that Liv Daniels overhears as she turns from chatting with Dax Gallagher, lead singer of Half-Cocked Heroes, and his long-time girlfriend to study both of us. The dark-haired, slender, white actress has recently been making headlines for declining prominent roles when her male co-stars were banking oodles more money than she was offered on the same projects, and now she’s starting her own production company with the backing of some even higher-profile women in the biz.
“I don’t think you’ll have to try very hard,” she says to Aspen. “You’re a natural. Liv Daniels. And you’reAspen. I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been wanting to chat.”
Aspen gapes at her.
