He strides through the park with that loose, easy stride I’ve seen before, graceful and strong. He should becrawling.
His eyes flick to mine immediately.
Guess my disguise isn’t nearly as good as I’d hoped.
We’re not alone in the park, but no one gives us so much as a second glance as he reaches me and stops, this conflicted and lopsided smile hanging on his face.
“Glad you came, Sass.”
That makes one of us.
“Oh, no. Think hard before calling me that.” I fold my arms. “I hope you had time to rehearse. Start groveling.”
His eyes widen, and he shakes his head.
“Didn’t come here to do anything else.” His charming smile drops, and he looks so serious. Disarmingly so. I wonder if he’s practiced that sad-puppy look. “Look, I’m sorry as hell. This isn’t close to what I intended.”
“You mean youweren’ttrying to force me into a pretend relationship?” The acid in my voice hurts.
He winces. “No, hell no. I get why you’re pissed—you have every right to be. And I know it looks bad, but I didn’t know we’d get dinged all over the damn internet. I’m not planning to pressure you into anything. If the photos hadn’t dropped with a dozen big Seattle influencers weighing in, you never would’ve seen me again.”
“What a relief,” I hiss.
He sighs. “You deserve a way out from my problems, Lena. I’m here to help you find one. This was my fuckup for not being more careful. I should’ve remembered how impossible it is to catch a break. Reinventing yourself takes years, apparently, when everybody’s dead set on reminding you what they see.”
Annoyingly wise words.
Despite myself, I feel a twitch of sympathy.
If he’s sincere about changing, it would suck to have the whole world making it harder, I guess.
“This happens a lot?”
“You have no clue.” He snorts.
The way he rakes a hand through his dark hair looks genuinely tormented. The kind of genuine I thought I saw back at the bar when he smiled like I meant the world.
Backstabbing, rich fucknugget.
God, I wish hating him wassimple.
“I never should’ve offered you a drink. Never mind anything else. It’s my fault, and I’m not denying it.” He chuckles, short and dark. “I must have been out of my fucking gourd.”
“You got that right.”
“Which brings us to today and why I invited you here.” He pulls out his phone and waves it at me. “I want to set the record straight. This isn’t about you, and I’m not leaving you hanging, spinning in my net.”
That little grain of sympathy sprouts.
Damn him. Having to deal with so many rumors must get exhausting, especially when he’s trying to avoid some twisted arranged marriage with Miss Congeniality.
But I can’t bring myself to care.
It will only make the whole thing even worse.
I’m annoyed that I imagine Nancy reacting when she hears the news. She acted like she had some kind of claim on him.
Plus, his stuffy, image-chasing parents. He hasn’t said much about them, but I’m not stupid. I know the implications.
