And just like that, I am extinct. I swallow the heartbreak-sized lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. She did what now?”
“She called Shelby Finn, who, by the way, I’m told is really quite lovely.”
“Wait. Jax called hisagent? Like, on thephone?” I ask, my pulse pounding in my neck.
“She explained the situation and said that she thought the best course of action would be for the two of you to do a bit together.”
“A bit? What doesthatmean?”
“You know, Mel. A piece. A segment. An article. Whatever type of press we can get. He used you to get where he is. There is literally zero shame in using him back to clear your name. You think people are paying attention now? People willreallypay attention if you’re facing each other, telling your truth together as—”
“Evan,” I interrupt, “you can’t be serious.”
“Melody,” he says with a sigh. That’s all. Just my name. As if I’ve exhausted him with my mere existence.
I blink back the stupid tears that have egregiously decided to spring to my eyes. “I can’t do this right now. I’m at work, Ev.”
He must hear it in my voice, the fact that he’s pushed me to the brink. “I’m sorry, hon. I don’t mean to upset you.”
I take a breath, but it sounds like a small gasp. “It’s okay. I just—I gotta go.”
“That’s fine. Just know that Jax is working on something. It’s a favor to me,” he admits. “She doesn’t do shit like this for just anyone.”
“Okay,” I manage to squeak out.
“Please. Call me after school. I should have more info by then.”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay. I want you to listen to me, though. Keep calm and soldier on and all that. Everything’s going to be fine. You have my word.”
Famous last words,I think as I hang up the phone.
Chapter 3
The thing is, Beckett didn’t learn my name during our walk on the beach. That walk happened later. I mean, sure, it was the first time I felt a real connection with him, but my point is, his retelling was inaccurate.
Not that it matters, though. It’s fiction, after all. And his way obviously worked out just fine, given that he’s become a household name. He’s the male version of Rebecca Yarros (minus the dragons). Pretty soon, people will be lining up at midnight to buy his books.
Our chance encounter actually began courtesy of JetBlue. I was at the gate, trying to switch my mother out of an aisle seat and into a window seat.
“I don’t think you understand,” I explained to the woman at the counter. “It’s extremely important to me that my mother be happy on this trip. She won’t want to sit in a seat on the aisle. She likes to look out the window. She says it’s the best part of flying.”
“Idounderstand, ma’am,” the woman replied. “And I’m saying that you are more than welcome to switch seats with her.” Her tone was half-annoyed, half-disinterested.
I sighed and shook my head. “But my seat is in the middle.”
The woman shrugged. “It’s closer, though. She can still look outside.”
“She’s not going to want to sit in the middle.” I lowered my voice andnarrowed my eyes to read her name tag. “Please, Jacinda. My mother is sick. I want her to be comfortable. This trip is really important to her.”
At this, her expression softened, despite her consideration of the line forming behind me. “I’m sorry to hear that, miss. I am. We have a full flight, though. So, you understand, there’s really nothing I can do except try and move you to another flight.”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. Forget it.” I collected our boarding passes and our passports from the counter, hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder, and hastily moved off the line.
Three steps back toward the seating area, I heard, “Hey, um, excuse me?”
I turned back to see a guy about my age. Tall. Not thin but not too broad. Skin that looked sun-kissed, despite it being December. Navy-blue hoodie sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to reveal a pair of finely toned forearms. He had a Nike gym bag slung over his shoulder and wore a tentative smile that curved his upper lip enough to make it seem like it could be a smirk. “Me?” I asked.
