Page 52 of Love Galaxy

New plan. Tomorrow’s family meeting is tonight.

I do not want John Smith spying on us as we talk business.

Come immediately.

Pah! I had forgotten our regular meeting was supposed to be tomorrow. In its place I had already begun imagining another day spent entirely with Briar, swimming in the lake, hiding from the cameras and kissing with her outside in the wind.

The thought of it has my cock straining at my slit, demanding to be released, demanding Briar’s attention.

I could roll over, wrap myself around her once more and return to sleep, pretending I have not seen the message. But I do not trust Killan to take such a refusal lightly. No doubt he will continue sending messages, trying to goad a response from me. And mayhaps he is right. Having our meeting tonight will mean I will not be separated from Briar during the day, as much as I do not want to leave her for a single moment now.

Silently cussing Killan and his determination to remain fixated on our farm despite the filming of LOVE GALAXY, I slide out of bed, being careful not to wake Briar. If I hurry, I could return before she wakes. If I hurry, she will never know I left.

Briar

Warmth encircles me, and I roll over, sliding my hand along the mattress, searching for Sorin. Finding nothing, I open one eye.

“Fucking hell!” I sit up, a hand leaping to my chest as if I’m trying to catch my racing heart. Chloe’s standing beside the bed, a camera in one hand, which she’s holding obnoxiously close to my nose. It was her breathing I could hear, not Sorin’s. “What time is it?” Without a window or a clock, I’ve got no way of knowing. My body’s pretty sure it’s not late enough to be waking up, though. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say maybe five am.

“I’ve been awake for ages.” Without disturbing the camera she’s holding, Chloe dumps an armful of clothes onto the bed, right on top of me. I flop back down onto the mattress, flinging an arm over my eyes, wishing that what I can’t see didn’t exist.

If anything, I’m more aware of Chloe. Her breathing suddenly sounds twice as loud, and I peek out from under my arm, despite my better judgement. She’s holding the camera so close now that my breath actually fogs up the lens.

“Fuck off,” I snap.

She frowns and straightens, wiping the camera on the hem of her strapless dress. She looks like she’s ready for a day at the beach. There’s a large cut-out missing from the front of her dress, displaying her flat stomach, reminiscent of a bikini. She’s also got a new pair of glasses on—oversized cat-eye glasses that make her look more than usual like a predator.

“Where’s Sorin?” My mouth’s got that fuzzy feeling that means I need to brush my teeth.

“I’m here for your halfway interview,” she says, more bright and cheerful than anyone has a right to be this early in the morning. “Congratulations, you survived your first ten days.”

“Ten days?” I struggle out from underneath the clothes, nearly tripping over my own feet. Seeing Chloe in Sorin’s bedroom is going to be enough to give me nightmares, but apparently it isn’t enough to fully wake me up, because I’m feeling groggy. “It’s been fourteen,” if I count today.

Chloe waves her hand in a dismissive gesture, making it clear she isn’t interested in such minor things as facts. “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.”

“Shotgun the chair.” I call after her.

Maybe she doesn’t hear me; she certainly doesn’t answer me, and I’m left to search through the clothes she’s brought. When I emerge fully dressed and toileted, Chloe takes one look at what I’m wearing and rolls her eyes. “Really?”

“If you didn’t want me to wear them, why’d you bring them?” I run my hands down the green playsuit I’m wearing over opaque green tights, as if I’m the Wicked Witch of the West.

“I didn’t think you’d wear them together,” she huffs.

“Being rude is like a hobby to you, isn’t it. Hey, where’s Sorin?” I glance around the kitchen, but he’s not in sight.

What I do see is Mr. Smith. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, examining his tablet and flicking his tail. No doubt he’s checking camera angles—or whatever other crap his job entails.

Neither of us say a word to each other. I’m pretty sure if I tried speaking to him I’d end up screaming abuse, and I really don’t have the energy this early.

“Take your seat,” Chloe says in lieu of an answer. Then she slides onto the table, crossing her legs at the ankles and tugging up the hem of her short sundress to ensure her legs are on full display of the camera she’s got set up on a tripod facing us. When I sit on the chair, I’m significantly shorter than her, and to meet her gaze I’ve got to tilt my head back. I should have known she’d do something like this.

“This is take one of the midpoint interview with City Single Briar,” she says and claps her hands, like a wannabe YouTube celebrity. Evidently, she’s got big dreams of being famous. Flicking to a list of pre-written questions stored on her tablet, she begins.

COMMENTATOR CHLOE:

Since coupling up with Sorin, the two of you have been spending all your time together. I think the number one question we’re going to be getting from our audience is: how genuine are you about your relationship?

City Single Briar rolls her eyes. Then, with a sigh, she straightens her shoulders.

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