Since I’m still holding Derek’s phone, I go to the homepage of the tabloid to see if they’ve posted any updates about my identity. But it looks like the story from Wednesday was the most recent one involving Derek. “I guess it’s a good thing they waited. Now they have some juicy footage to add to their reveal.”
Derek exhales sharply. “How…” He swallows and tries again, his eyes on the screen in my hand instead of on me. “Today didn’t scare you?”
Getting filmed and photographed while enjoying the best kiss of my life isn’t going to make my top ten favorite moments of my life, but I went through way worse as a kid. He has to know that. Sighing, I lock Derek’s phone and set it back on the coffee table. Then I curl my legs on the couch beneath me so I can sit facing him and take his hand with both of mine. My wrist is still wrapped, something Derek is all too aware of as he lifts our hands to press kisses to the knuckles on my injured hand, one at a time.
The gesture is so sweet and romantic that I almost laugh. Years of avoiding men, and somehow I found myself in a potential relationship with someone who has been labeled as the “swooniest man alive.” I feel like I walked onto a movie set, though I’ve never been on a set this intimately private. Maybe I would have been less of a brat if I hadn’t had such a big audience.
“First off,” I say, trying to focus, “I’m not going to pretend I didn’t get a little freaked out by being on camera like that. I’ve been hiding for half my life, and that was…a lot.”
Derek grimaces. “I told you that you don’t have to—”
“Second,” I interrupt, “you should know by now that I’m not going to lie to you just to make you feel better. I said I can handle your fame, and I can.”Hopefully. “And third, I think you have bigger problems if your assistant really has been sending content about you to a tabloid.”
His whole body slumps, like he’s too tired to hold himself up anymore, and he falls against the back of the couch with a long exhale. “I feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner,” he says mournfully. “Hot Scoopstarted going after my friends around the same time I hired Janie, and they always seemed to know things they shouldn’t. But they never attackedme, so I never thought…” He groans and covers his face with his hands. “Has she been gaslighting me this whole time? I don’t… Why would…”
I never thought I’d say this, but right now I wish I paid more attention to all the celebrity gossip. It would be easier to sort through the circumstances if I knew exactly what we were dealing with. “Walk me through this, Derek. Obviously Janie told someone my name, and it doesn’t take a lot of digging to connect me to Nova Tate.” I knew there was a reason I didn’t like Janie. “But what would she have to gain by hinting you were struggling with the loss of your friends when she knows they’re still in your life?” I gesture to his phone when it lights up with a call from Bonnie Aiken.
Derek shrugs half-heartedly. “What does anyone have to gain by gossiping about people’s private lives?”
“Views and ad revenue.”
His eyes jump to me, one eyebrow lifting slightly. “That was rhetorical.”
“I know.”
Thank goodness for the small smile that lifts the corners of his lips. He takes a slow breath, then sits up so he’s less crumpled. “Hot Scoophas been stuck on my friends for more than a year and a half,” he says as a thoughtful look enters his eyes. “They keep claiming that I’m losing them or better off without them, but we’re closer than ever.”
Both our gazes jump to the phone when Kasey Graham starts calling.
“That’s why you’re ignoring them?” I tease.
He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his mess of dark hair. “I just… I need to figure out what’s going on first. They’ll want answers.”
“Or they want to see if you’re okay,” I argue. “Isn’t that what friends do?” Not that I can really speak from experience, being the lone wolf that I am.
“Yeah,” he agrees, but I doubt it’s going to make him any more eager to answer his phone. “Anyway.” He draws the word out, narrowing his eyes as if daring me to keep harping on him about his friends’ intentions. “I’ve never been able to figure out whyHot Scoophas been so negative toward my friends while claiming to be fully on my side, no matter the alleged issues surrounding me.”
Considering that, I slide one of my hands free so I can pull my hair over one shoulder. I want to twist it into a braid, but I don’t want to let go of Derek entirely, so I content myself with simply twirling it and holding it in place when it gets tight. “This might be my bias talking and an extreme theory, but what if Janie has been trying to isolate you so she can have you for herself?” Anyone who sees the woman would know she finds Derek attractive and wants to please him.
Though he wrinkles his nose, he doesn’t immediately shut the idea down. “Whoever writesHot Scoopenjoys propositioning me,” he mutters.
Ah, so this is what jealousy feels like? It’s been a long time since I felt the churning discomfort in my gut and the irrational desire to claim what’s mine. It was a common emotion for me as a kid, especially when Isaw older actors being taken more seriously than me, but I’ve been mostly content in my adult life. “Gross,” I mutter, as much a commentary on the tabloid’s methods as a reaction to feeling this way again.
Derek chuckles and meets my gaze. “They got one thing right on this last one,” he says in a rumbling voice that makes me shiver. He brushes soft fingers up my arm, drawing goosebumps along my skin as he goes. “I’ve never wanted something casual. And before this week, I hadn’t found anyone who made me feel inadequate the way you do.”
My words catch in my throat as I stare at him, and I have to clear it before I can ask, “That’s a good thing?”
He nods once, leaning in close until his nose brushes mine. “A very good thing. You don’t just match me, Donovan. You excel in everything you do and make me want to be better. Not because I need to be perfect but because you deserve more than what I am.”
“More than Derek Riley?” My voice is breathy now. “That sounds like reaching for the impossible.”
He grins. “I knew you liked me.”
He’s so close, and all it would take to kiss him is a miniscule shift forward. But as much as I would love to get lost in this man without the risk of spectators, he’s still facing a massive problem. I can’t sit idly by while his life crumbles around him. “What are you going to do about Janie?” I ask, then wince.
Groaning, he pulls back and glances at the name lighting up his phone this time. Freya Alverra. For a second, he almost looks like he might answer, but then he shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits.
“You must hate that.”
