How the fuck are we supposed to last another five months like this? I have no idea, but I’m tired of playing nice with him. He continues to push past my wishes and boundaries, and I’ve allowed it so as not to rock the boat.
I am Willa fucking Stone, andheis the one who needsmyhelp.
“Let’s go,” I say, and after a moment, he nods, letting me lead him and the paparazzi he invited onto private property outside. When we get out there, there’s a lot more out on the sidewalk, and I fight to keep my shield up high.
“So what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to keep lightness in my voice. Gabe is just ahead of us, and his face is hiding much less of the irritation.
“I wanted to come see you before you get ready for tonight. I can’t stand being away from you for long,” he says, and I fight my lip lifting in disgust. “I was kind of hoping I could hang with you while you danced. You know how much I love to watch you move.” My stomach churns at the innuendo and the way the press lets out a small laugh at his words.
“I wish you had told me ahead of time, but I have to get home to get ready. If I had known, I could have wrapped things up faster and gone to lunch. I’m sorry.”
“That’s what I get for trying to surprise you.” He looks over his shoulder at a male paparazzo. “Women, am I right?” When the paparazzo laughs, I mentally catalog his name and face to share with Leo. I don’t mind working with the paparazzi, but if they’re going to be misogynistic assholes, I won’t be giving themanything. “Anyway, go get beautified for tonight’s event,” he says, turning back to me. “I know how much work that all takes; you don’t have to feel bad.” The crowd laughs at the dig, and I try not to react before nodding.
He pulls me in close, and I place a hand at the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair, and smile up at him. There’s asoft whoosh of air from the paparazzi around us, an awed coo as if they think this is the sweetest, most romantic moment in time. Anyone who has ever told me I’m not a good actress can suck it because I am selling this. Despite him being possibly the biggest tool in Hollywood right now and the biggest pain in my ass ever, I know I look like a lovesick idiot.
“See you later?” I ask, a small smile tipping the corners of my lips. Chris grins down at me, a cocky look that makes me want to grimace, though I don’t.
“Definitely,” he says, too loud to be natural, so the paparazzi and cameras can catch it.
It’s clearhewas never an actor.
“Good,” I say, trying not to turn green when he dips and brushes his lips to mine. He holds it for a moment longer than necessary for the cameras. I fight the urge to argue, to push at his chest, to get him away from me. Instead, I let him take the lead. He pulls back finally, pressing his forehead to mine, and the flash of cameras glints along the lip piercing that sends the teenage girls feral, but he looks far too much like a thirty-year-old trying to be cool.
“Love you,” he says, and for a moment, I freeze, unsure. We’ve never done this. I’ve never done this, an open, out-loud confession of love in front of cameras, for a fake relationship. I’d mention it in songs and talk about love in a general sense, but not…not like this.
I never wanted to toe this line, feeling that if, in some universe, I actually got the real thing, I wouldn’t want my previous lies to be on the same stage as the real thing.
It’s also a boundary of mine, Jackie knows, another one that I laid out before this charade started.
“You too,” I murmur. I know it’s not what he wants me to say when his lips shift to the corners, almost infinitesimally down, and irritation flares in his eyes. Clearly, he wanted the bigmoment for the cameras, but I’m not giving in to his bullshit. Instead, I step away, and his hands tighten just a bit before releasing me. I quickly spot Gabe, who nods at me. “Bye,” he says, then gives a pleasant smile and wave to the crowd before Gabe leads me into the car.
I wait until the doors are all shut and he’s driving away to ask.
“Did you know?” My voice is shaking.
“Absolutely not,” he says quickly, eyes meeting mine in the rear-view mirror. “No clue they were going to do that, or, at the very least, I would have warned you. I was parked out back when he pulled in with his crew. When I figured out what was happening, I drove around so I wouldn’t leave you alone for long.” He turns onto the highway before he asks the question that’s been brewing in my own mind, sour and nervous because part of me already knows the answer.
“Does Jackie know?”
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out,” I say, then place a call on my phone, listening to it to my ear and waiting for her to pick up.
“Willa, how are?—”
“Where are you?” I ask, not in the mood for niceties. There’s a moment of hesitation, shock, probably from my quick and sharp response.
“What? Why?” Jackie asks.
“Did you know Chris was coming to All That Jazz today? Because I sure as fuck didn’t. Who told him where I was going to be? You know I don’t put that in the media.”
There’s a moment, a beat before she sighs, then answers.
“I’m at the Perfect Image offices.” Something about that settles in my chest. Uncomfortably, but like I’ve done with very uncomfortable exchanges with Jackie over the past six months,longer, if I’m willing to be truly honest with myself, I push it down. Right now, I need to focus on the issue at hand.
“I’ll be there in ten,” I say, then hang up and tell Gabe about our change of plans.
When we arrive out front, I’m relieved to see there are no paparazzi, and Gabe quickly gets me inside the building without any issue. My foot taps as I move up the elevator, my pulse racing as I try to keep the tentative grasp I have on my temper. In some recess of my mind, disappointment that Leo won’t be here when I walk in lingers, knowing he’s back in Holly Ridge, but in a way, I’m happy.
If I’m angry, he would be furious and probably do or say something impulsive that he can’t take back.
