“Come on, Winter. Let yourself relax for once.”
“I wouldn’t call you relaxing.”
She leaned up toward him, and now her lips were so close to his that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. “Call me whatever you want, then,” she murmured, and Winter shivered, remembering all the times she’d ever whispered in his ear. His body leaned toward her, as if drawn purely by muscle memory.
There was no reason, really, for him not to sleep with her. Maybe she was right. Maybe a one-night stand would be a good distraction. Maybe this time, there really wouldn’t be any strings attached. They knew each other well, knew how to make a touch turn into much more, and they also knew how to go their separate ways—at least until the next time.
But instead of giving in, Winter hovered there, refusing to close the gap between them. Gavi’s eyes flickered over his face, and a small smile of satisfaction touched the edge of her mouth at the way he tensed.
Winter forced himself to pull away and look back outside. “Rain’s not letting up anytime soon,” he said, nodding at the blanket of dark clouds that stretched across the horizon. “Take the bed, if you want. I’ve been using the couch, anyway.”
Gavi sighed. “Fine, have it your way.” As she walked toward the bedroom, she peered at him over her shoulder. “But I can think of better ways to strain your back than sleeping on that thing.” She turned and started unzipping her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a heap of sequins before she was fully out of sight. “If you change your mind, come join me. You can have your usual side.”
Then, without asking, she grabbed one of the shirts from his suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom.
Shortly before fourA.M., a noise woke Winter on the couch.
Immediately, he winced. His back did hurt from the hard cushions, just as Gavi had teased. He sat up gingerly, massaging the sore spots with both hands, and looked over to the bed.
Gavi was still asleep, breathing evenly, dressed in nothing but herunderwear and his shirt, one bare leg curled up over the blankets. The rain had stopped some time ago, and the night had just barely begun to transition from pitch-black to muted grays, the weak light outlining the curves of her body.
In sleep, she looked like the girl he’d once fallen for—stunningly pretty, serene, and a little amused, a girl secure in her identity. He could still remember waking up beside her the morning after their first time together, staring down at that face, and thinking she was still asleep. Then she’d opened one eye and grinned at him, and he’d laughed, daring to think that maybe, just maybe, he had found someone he could wake up next to for the rest of his life.
Then he’d discovered that she’d leaked their story to the tabloids, and by lunchtime, their tryst had been on every news outlet.
It was an accident, she’d told him with a cute laugh, and he’d believed it. Even worse, he had forgiven her.
That had been followed by months of exhausting social games—bringing him to events just to be photographed together, intimate conversations suspiciously reported by “anonymous sources,” and an endless parade of lies, lies, lies, lies. About things that didn’t even need to be lies: what brand her shoes were or where she grew up or what her favorite meal was, so that she could mutter later on that a gift from him wasn’t what she had in mind. She’d once told him she was allergic to shellfish after a decadent, uni-filled omakase. He’d rushed her to the hospital and stayed with her for hours, fended off news reporters at the entrance, only to find out later that she wasn’t allergic after all. Another time, she’d locked him out of his own house as a game and let the media assume that he’d been kicked out for upsetting her.
Winter would show up haggard and defeated at rehearsal, and Dameon would just shake his head.
Why do you like that girl?he’d ask.
All Winter could do was put his hands up in despair.I know, I know,he would reply. And then the whole thing started all over again.
Because. Gavi… She was an addiction. She could start a conversation with anyone, could become the life of a party just by showing up. She was the kind of person who always left an impression, who always found reserves of energy, no matter how late in the day it was, who could convince anyone to fall for her with just a wink and a gentle touch. Gavi craved attention in the same way Winter craved love, would seek it to the ends of the earth, and she was unapologetic about it.
Something about that drew him to her. Maybe he envied her, thought that life was easier for people like her. Maybe he was just vulnerable to her bold flirtations, admired how direct she was about getting what she wanted. But most likely, maybe he thought they were similar, that she was what he deserved, that she represented a world that he understood. Sure, she used him. But he used her, too.
And, well, they had fun in bed. A lot of fun. That didn’t hurt, either.
A buzzing phone knocked his thoughts back to the present. That was what had woken him up. He grabbed for the glowing screen on the coffee table, wondering for a moment if Claire was texting him and if he’d forgotten about some early morning interview.
But when his eyes fell on the screen, he saw that it wasn’t his phone at all, but Gavi’s. The screen lit up, and despite how quickly he looked away, he still caught enough of the messages waiting there.
Here now. Take ur time.
Babe u still coming?
Babe where r u? U missed the red carpet?
The name of the sender was Rory Jones. Gavi’s terrible date.
Now her agent was texting her.Rory said you never showed?
Apparently Gavi stood up her date, spending the night with Winter instead. Not the story she’d told him, of course. Her words came back to him.
Turns out the fairy-tale romance has been a little one-sided.
