TAYLOR
I understand that. I do. But you’re in the public eye. People expect a certain amount of access just by your position and being Hollywood’s Sweetheart.
IVORY
I never asked for that though!
TAYLOR
You kinda did though, boo boo. It’s part of the gig.
Letting out a frustrated groan, I drop my phone to the bed beside me. This cottage is more like an oversized hotel room with a queen bed taking up the majority of the space and only a two seater table under the front window. A small kitchenette sits on the back wall beside the bathroom.
Tunneling my fingers into my hair, I tug on the roots. I need to calm down. Tay is right. Even though I hate it. This is part of the job. It’s something I’ve dealt with my whole life. I’m honestly surprised I’ve had a two-month reprieve from the vultures, especially with all the tabloid fodder.
“Hey, woah…what’s going on?” Preston climbs on the bed pulling me to him. My head drops to his chest as his fingers replace mine, gently massaging my scalp. “What’s all this for?” Preston asks again when I don’t say anything.
“Taylor texted me.”
“Okay?” Preston tips my head up. His fingers are still in my hair. “And this is bad?”
“This time it is.”
“Do you want to tell me what she said? So I know what we’re dealing with?” His sharp gaze softens from whatever he sees reflected in mine. There he goes usingweagain. This man is something else. He’s cut from a different cloth.
“Whatwe’redealing with?” I can’t help but ask.
“I told you. We’re a team. You and me, Ives.” He leans downand presses a kiss to my forehead.I love these forehead kisses. What girl doesn’t?
“The paps aren’t going away. They’re making even more noise because they haven’t seen or heard from me in over two months.”
“What type of noise?”
“Beyond the usual: rehab, hospitalization, and mental institution rumors. Now, people are in the comments of my social posts speculating about where I am. It’s apparently getting ugly and the media is running with all the negativity they can,” I summarize. Preston knows enough about paparazzi from being a sought after player in the league. He’s been around long enough to know what happens when someone of my celebrity status drops off the face of the earth. Pandemic or not.
“Jesus Christ, fucking cockroaches.” I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “What’s so funny?”
“That’s exactly what I said.” Another giggle breaks through.
“You’ve been hanging out with me too long, Hollywood.” Preston winks. “So what does Taylor want you to do about it?”
“She wants me to make a statement.”
“Bullshit. You don’t owe them anything.” He gets it. A genuine smile tips up my lips as I press up to kiss his cheek.
“I agree. I said as much.”
“And I take it she didn’t agree?” Preston’s hands trail down and massage the nape of my neck.
“Nope. Something about being in the public eye and this being part of the job. Yada yada yada.” Preston's jaw tenses at my words. “I get it, but why do I have to give them more than they already get?” I rub my palms up his chest as I talk.
“You don’t,” he says, bringing his forehead to mine. “You don’t have to give them any more than what you want. If you don’t want to make a statement, you don’t make a statement.”
“Don’t I?” I’m not sure how to get around it.
“What if you made a statement without making a statement?” Preston straightens but his hands don’t stop massagingmy neck and my shoulders. He’s always touching. His touch is a comfort that I need.
“How so?”
