“What? No! Why would it be a problem? That’d be kinda hypocritical considering I’m gay.”
The statement hangs in the air between us like dirty laundry, and I know I just blurted out something I shouldn’t have. My sexuality is supposed to be top secret, because god knows what the fans will think if their dream man is only attracted to other men when half my fandom are lust-driven women wanting to get in my pants.
It helps that I’mneverseen out in public with anyone who could pose as a romantic interest. That part isn’t hard since I don’t date.
Ever.
It keeps up an air of mystery around me, or whatever. I wasn’t really paying attention during the last meeting with my publicist.
It isn’t my fault that I just so happened to have a stroke of inspiration right when the meeting had started. Lyrics had been flying around in my head, which is the reason for my newest single topping the charts for the last couple of weeks.
In retrospect, I really should have paid more attention to the meeting instead. Maybe then I wouldn’t have blurted out the one thing my publicist told me I needed to keep a lid on.
Where is Ray when I need him? He still hasn’t returned from sending off Linda, probably too busy chatting her ear off about something that has nothing to do with work.
Most importantly, he isn’t here to do his job of keeping my mouth in check!
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Rowan is the first to break the silence. He must see something on my face, and the hard edges of his features are noticeably softer. The way he’s currently looking at me doesn’t help the whirlwind of emotions currently wrecking my insides, nor does the fact that he’s able to read me so well when I’m trying to keep my emotions on lockdown.
“Don’t forget, I signed an NDA. If I break my word, you can sue me for all I’m worth.”
I can tell he’s entirely serious by the way he speaks. I know it’s his way of comforting me, and it does exactly what’s needed to ease the tension and wrangle a snort out of me.
“Be careful what you say, because you might regret it if I get my little claws into you,” I say in a teasing tone.
I like how Rowan makes things easy.
“Pretty sure your littleclaws already grabbed a hold of me,” he replies.
I can’t tell whether he’s joking as well or being entirely serious.
Worst of all, I don’t know which one I’d prefer.
6
Rowan
New York Fashion Week is just as exhausting as I remember.
It’s loud, chaotic, and with barely any personal space. It isn’t hard to spot the first-timers with their gleaming eyes, or the influencers with their phones recording their entire experience like it’s the show of thecentury.
Then there are the celebrity guests, like the one I’m here for tonight. Milo is currently on the red carpet, posing for the cameras. The suit he’s wearing is a stark contrast to the gray hoodies and sweatpants he’s donned these past few days, but it looks good on him.
Really good.
Whatever adjustments the designers did had the suit stretching over his body in all the right places. It fits him like areallyexpensive glove.
The outfit isn’t the only thing that’s shining tonight.
Linda is a magician at her craft because she has transformed Milo into America’s heartthrob in just a few hours. Milo is already handsome without the help of makeup and professional hairstyling, but he’s absolutely sparkling tonight.
Not in the cringy vampire way, but like he’s glowing from the inside out, and the cameras are eating it up. The paps and photographers are all calling his name, vying for a single glance from him.
There are sounds of satisfaction at each smile Milo shoots their way. The constant shuttering of cameras going off is the real-life depiction of my fluttering heart when Milo beams my way.
He’s not smiling atyou, idiot!
