The look on Rosie’s face said all it needed to.
I was an idiot.
I was about to say something else when Oliver emerged from the other room. Brow furrowed and eyes pinched in frustration as he scrolled through something on his phone. Rosie’s mouth snapped shut. She leaned her elbows on the marble countertop, resting her head in her hands as she stared at Oliver with wide eyes.
I immediately became suspicious.
‘What’s with the pout, sexiest man alive?’
Kill me now. I pinched Rosie’s side, but she just shifted away, not dropping her googly eyes.
Oliver’s head snapped up, blinking a few times like he’d forgotten we were there. His gaze snagged on mine and his features softened a little.
He turned his attention to Rosie as he rounded the counter to the opposite side and bent over, resting his forearms on the surface, phone still clutched in his hands.
‘Thanks for noticing.’ He winked at her. Rosie grinnedback. His mood tanked a second later when his frown reappeared.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked.
Oliver sighed. ‘That was Tony.’ At Rosie’s confused head tilt he added, ‘My PR manager.’
‘The guy who insists on calling you Mr. Blake?’ I smirked.
Oliver rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, that’s the one. Apparently I need to have more of a presence on social media in the next few months. For the book.’
‘It’s not abadidea.’ I had seen book sales sky rocket because of social media. It was one of the best marketing tools the publishing industry had, so it would make sense that they would want Oliver to have more of an online presence.
‘Doesn’t mean it’s agoodidea,’ he grumbled, running his hands through his hair.
‘Got something against the internet?’ I cocked my head.
‘No. But I do have something against online twats who think they can give their opinion on anything under the sun and hide behind anonymous usernames.’
My brows shot to my hairline. I knew Oliver had a personal hatred against the media and from all the things he’d told me, it wasn’t unwarranted. It made sense that that animosity would also spread to social media.
‘You can turn comments off,’ Rosie countered.
Oliver nodded, thinking it over. ‘I still wouldn’t know what the fuck to post.’
Rosie pulled her phone from the front pocket of her scrubs. ‘Let’s see what you’ve already posted.’ I peered over her shoulder and watched as she pulled up Oliver’s instagram. ‘Did you post all these?’ I asked, brows knitted together in concentration. His entire feed was taken up with professional shots—all ones I’d seen before on my extensive internet stalking sessions of him—however I wasn’t about tobring that up. Knowing Oliver, it would just make him gloat knowing that I’d spent so much time researching him.For the book.It was entirely professional.
‘Most of them. Some of them were reposted from the club,’ Oliver mused.
Rosie continued scrolling. ‘They’re all of you playing football.’
‘I hate to break this to you, but it’s kind of my job.’
Rosie pursed her lips. ‘Yes, but it doesn’t tell anyone anything about who you are.’
‘They know who I am,’ he snapped.
‘No. They know you play football. They know your scores, your previous history with different clubs. They don’t knowyou.’
Oliver’s phone clattered onto the counter as it fell from his hands. He straightened up, putting all his weight on his palms so the muscles in his arms bulged with the movement.
‘They know enough about me,’ he said firmly.
Rosie wasn’t put off by this surly attitude. She clicked onto someone else’s instagram. Another footballer that I recognised from Oliver’s team.
