Part of me is wistful, though. If only Luka meant it. If only that was the way it hadreallybeen. We’d spent the whole night together, all right. After he’d promised me that modeling contract just to get me in bed. And I’d eaten up his every word. God, I’d been so stupid then.
“Brooklyn, what’s it like to live with a former hardcore bachelor?”
I hear the question, but I don’t know how to answer. All I can do is hope that I’m not still that stupid girl, making stupid mistakes. Luka laughs and takes my hand in his own, making a show of our fingers twined together.
“It’s so good, she’s speechless.” Everyone laughs, including me. Luka continues and I’m grateful he’s taking the attention away from me. “Look, relationships are tricky no matter what, and living together is definitely an adventure. But this place has never felt like more of a home than it has since Brooklyn’s come into my life.” He gestures around the room and Kyla nods.
“Brooklyn, how about you? What do you love most about living with Luka?”
“His avocado toast,” I blurt. Kyla throws her head back and laughs, as if I was joking.
“I make her breakfast every morning,” Luka interjects. “I like taking care of her.”
Kyla smiles. “It’s very apparent how much the two of you care for each other. Which brings me to the one thing everyone wants to know. Are you planning on having kids?”
I hesitate, and Luka squeezes my hand. We look at each other and once again, I silently thank him for taking the lead.I’m supposed to be the one who’s good at putting on a presentation for the world, but today it’s Luka who’s excelling.
“We’re just enjoying the wedding planning right now, and our time with each other. We’ll all just have to wait and see what the future brings us.” He grins.
“Time will tell,” I agree.
The interview winds down, Kyla leading out with a few chitchat questions. Luka and I take turns answering, but I’m in a daze. Everything about this interview seemed so real.
I can’t get my heart out of it.
His hand is on my knee again, absently running a thumb over my kneecap as if he’s subconsciously trying to comfort me. Did he mean it, about seeing what the future brings us?
What’s happening here? It’s all for show, yes. I know that. Yet I can’t help but fantasize that his words had actual meaning. That he wasn’t just placating the press with sugar-coated lies.
He aced the interview so hard that I find myself envisioning what our life could be like. If we had a house with a yard. Kids. Family dinners, holidays with the rest of the Zorics, vacations. The future we’ve painted could be real, not just words.
This doesn’t have to be a sham.
Brooklyn
Chapter 23
An image of Julia Roberts tossing her bouquet into a packed church pew as she bolts from her wedding inRunaway Brideripples through my head.
My wedding is two weeks away and I’m daydreaming about calling everything off, walking away, and forgetting all about Luka Zoric. Ditching this arrangement once and for good.
I’m sitting at O’Hare Airport, waiting to board my flight to LA. It’s raining outside and I can’t help thinking it’s a sign that I need to get the hell out of Chicago and never come back. The past few days with Luka have me completely confused and twisted up in knots—ever since our interview with Kyla, I haven’t been able to keep my head straight. Iknowthe image we’ve created isn’t real, but the more time I spend with Luka, the more itfeelsreal. But I can’t let myself be seduced by the lie. It’ll only cause heartache later.
Still, I’ve seen so many instances of what could be for us. This dream doesn’t have to be just a dream. What if everything we’re faking could be real? I don’t know what I want anymore.
I haven’t slept in days as my mind cycles through all the what-ifs and analyzes every word Luka has said to me to try to determine if there’s hidden meaning behind what I’ve been taking at face value. The interview really threw me. I was still reeling from how gently Luka held me in the supply closet at the photo shoot and how much my possessiveness had turned him on, and then he had to go on national television and talk about how he’d fallen for me at first sight. Was that total BS? Or was there some real truth to it?
Do I risk my pride and face him and confess the feelings that are creeping in, or do Iwait it out and see if anything blossoms on its own…or if things resume to what they’ve always been? Putting myself out there doesn’t seem like the best option right now. Not with the wedding so close. All I need is his emotional rejection to stain a day that’s already tainted with lies.
And if what I’m feeling are real feelings, and he has them, too? Then what?
We can’t possibly have a real life together. Not when this whole thing started out as a sham…and especially not with the secret I’m keeping from him.
The stress is accumulating, and I need to temper it before I explode or do something stupid like run away from my wedding—and my picture-perfect future.
I flip my cellphone over in my hand and glance to see if I have a text from Mateo. He doesn’t know that I’m coming. Nobody does, aside from the people I have an appointment with tomorrow afternoon. Another blip of guilt courses through me. Mateo is staying at his condo in LA for a job this week, which works out perfectly for me. I need an alibi, so to speak, to cover for what I’m doing tomorrow, and I need time with my bestie so I can unwind and relax from all this emotional pressure. I’d texted him earlier to call me, but I haven’t heard back yet.
After I’d gotten the call this morning about the top-secret appointment, I’d packed a light bag and headed to the airport without even notifying Luka. His schedule is packed today and by the time he gets home, I’ll be curled up on Mateo’s sofa drinking wine.
