Rhys
Brokenhearted Hero Card
"Rhys,areyouseriouslyupset?"
I blink rapidly in the direction of my publicist, Zara Steinbeck, who is looking at me like I just told her pigs fly because I just patented strap-on, remote controlled, mini helicopter backpacks for them.
I take a breath and massage the bridge of my nose.
"Yes Z, I’m upset. I just found out my boyfriend is cheating on me because a gossip site posted pictures of him feeling up an actress outside a club!" My chest deflates and I crash down on the sofa. It doesn’t matter if I keep my eyes wide open or shut them tight, the image of the man I had been planning to propose to with his hand on the tit of the siren starlette cannot be avoided.
Fuck, I’m an idiot.
"But I thought you two were just a PR thing?" Zara slowly slides down into the opposite corner of the sofa. "I mean, I’m basically going steady with his team at this point."
I rake my fingers through my hair, my knuckles sore from the tattoos I got refreshed a few days ago. The words WILD HOPE span my fists.
But maybe I should have gotten LONE WOLF instead.
"I dunno Zar, it made sense because of the movie and the soundtrack and yeah it helped establish both our sexualities to the public but," I trail off with an exhale as the memories of our seven months together rapid fire in my mind.
On our first date, I showed up early and my new beau, Mike Kerr, strolled in thirty minutes later. It was exciting. Here I was about to date hotshot, hunky actor, Mike Kerr. People around Nashville know me but everyone knows him.
And knows to pronounce it, Meek Car.
He walked up tot he table and before I could even stand up to shake his hand he leaned over and kissed my cheek.
He grinned.
I grinned.
And then he teased me about being early. All throughout dinner he kept mentioning how opposites attract. The heat in my cheeks was only fueled by the golden heat in my chest. I remember feeling like bubbles in a glass of champagne. Floaty with a bite.
He left an abhorrent tip after we split the check and winked at our waitress as we left.
Everyone he crossed paths with was left smiling.
Even me.
Then at the movie premiere a month later he waited on the red carpet and we got a few photos together. It was technically our first public appearance and it felt incredible to be claimed by this A List actor. The entire movie promotion season was wild and it barely prepared me for the chaos of award season.
Glitz and glamor was exciting but exhausting.
It felt like a blessing that he couldn't make it to The CMAs or The Grammys. A little less attention was fine by me.
My favorite night together was something impromptu. There wasn’t an event on the calendar but we went out for dinner before he went back to L.A. for the holidays. I invited him to my house, which he was all about. And, yeah, that part was really fun but it wasn’t my favorite part of thenight. As I slid into sweats after a shower, he turned to me with mischief in his eyes and asked if I wanted to go see Christmas Lights with him.
Giddiness floated up through my body. I giggled and nodded yes.
We got dressed again, and he drove us to The Dancing Lights of Christmas out in Lebanon, TN. He paid the $35 and winked at the attendant saying, "Just make sure the license plate is blurred out when you share your social media post."
I shook my head in affection because he was always doing that, accepting he’d have his photo taken and that it would be shared. He never discouraged people, just playfully set the boundary for his safety. Things like license plates, or asking them to wait to post it for twenty minutes so he could make a clean getaway. The elicit gift of permission left them feeling naughty. I could see it in their faces.
I felt it myself.
I felt everything.
And it was all a lie.
