“Nic.” He gave me a hard look, like it was so obvious.
He didn’t want his little cousin to grow up and sell feet pics.
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not a bad person.”
“I know.”
I crossed my arms. “So what’s the problem? She liked my jacket. I’m not going to encourage her to join the app.”
“She’s just a kid. I don’t want her to be influenced—”
“By my career?” I rolled my eyes. “We’re not her parents. And she’s going to have friends and internet access to form her own opinions about stuff. Teach her how to make safe choices, ifyou're that concerned. Don’t go to random guy’s apartments for free ‘portfolio shots.’ But what I do in private won’t change how she turns out. As she grows up, I’m sure she’ll find some other influencer to be her role model, and I’ll go back to being her cousin’s girlfriend, wife, or whatever I am by then.” ‘Ex’ was also an option, but I didn’t care to think about that at the moment.
A flush crept up the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Nic. Maybe we don’t have the same values,” he said.
Values.
Like family, finances, and popularity.
Of course, he could’ve meant actual quality of being, or that my morals were far more accommodating. There were so many reasons not to be with me.
I was too quiet in high school. Too bold now.
Still, he fell for me.
So why did he still need to be convinced to take a chance on love?
My insides hardened to plastic as something ugly tangled in my chest, despair knotting worse than sheets in the wash.
It didn’t matter how fun I was, how beautiful, or how helpful.
I was never going to be good enough for the quarterback.
I shook my head and sniffed. The lower half of my vision blurred. “One day, you’ll love someone enough that you won’t care what your family thinks. But it’s not me, apparently.” I flashed him an approximation of my customer service smile.
That’s what he wanted to be, right? Just someone I had an arrangement with. It was easier to put him in that compartment than pretend we could be friends after this.
He trembled, his face wrinkled with worry. “Nic…”
“Don’t worry. One day, I’ll love someone who doesn’t judge me. Or use me. One day, he’ll be my family. Until then, I’ll keep it classy.” I raised my phone and pinky.
At least one good thing had come from this.
I’d finally figured out my branding.
38
Cotton Cocoon
I unlocked my phone to distract myself with the glow. All the icons blurred through unshed tears. At least model training had taught me how to hold off blinking for release. I forced my tone to stay neutral. “We didn’t get to eat dinner. Would you like me to order something before you go?”
I wasn’t about to cook for the guy who rejected me.
Zack scooted to the edge of the couch. “Wait, that’s it? Can’t we be friends? Keep working on this?”
“I’m not interested in another fake relationship," I said, my voice hoarse.
These last few weeks had been far too real for me. The resulting heartache stung more than my feet after New Year’s Eve. Now, pretending it didn’t matter felt cheap. I wanted something real. I needed to heal from the brutal honesty that we could never be more than a fling. His first love would always be his family.
