Page 52 of #Starstruck

“Stop it. That’s not true, and you know it.” Lexi pushed my right foot off, and I swung my left one up for her to file. “You’re assuming it’s because he’s not attracted to you. Which has been the case for me eleven times. But maybe that’s not what’s going on. Maybe it’s intentional. You know when somebody says you can’t have something, and it makes you want it more? By not kissing you, that’s all you’re thinking about now, right? Wondering if it will ever happen. Dying of anticipation. So by the time it does happen, it will be the most amazing thing ever, and you’ll be head over heels for him. Even if he’s not any good at it.”

That sounded a little far-fetched, and Chase didn’t strike me as the devious type. “Do men actually do that?”

“I saw it in a TV movie once, but other than that, I don’t know. Usually they can’t wait to get their lips all over you.” She realized immediately it was the wrong thing to say and shot me a “sorry” expression. “When are you guys going out again?”

“Not for a while. He has to go to—out of town for business. A couple of weeks.”

I switched my foot again, and she applied a base coat of the same red polish she wore. “Maybe that will be good. Give him a chance to miss you. Did he ask you to take him to the airport?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Because that’s a very girlfriend thing to do,” she said, blowing on my nails. She finished my other foot quickly and then separated my toes with those foam inserts. I rested my feet on the coffee table. Lexi picked up her phone, and I felt sorry for myself. “Gavin was supposed to text me. He is my boyfriend, and sometimes I feel like I don’t know where we stand, either.”

I knew she was trying to be sympathetic, but Gavin clearly adored Lexi. Possibly even loved her. She couldn’t have been questioning that.

And I knew from unfortunate firsthand experience that he was definitely attracted to her.

“Well, you know what they say about when life hands you lemons.”

“Make lemonade?” I responded.

“No. You throw that crap back and demand chocolate. Hey, have you seen this?” Lexi asked, handing me her phone. “Chase Covington has himself a new skank du jour.”

I tried to swallow past the knot in my larynx but couldn’t. My ears rang as a metallic taste filled my mouth. Yesterday the potential ramifications of people taking pictures of Chase hadn’t even occurred to me. My concern had been only for his well-being.

But now ... now, with adrenaline skittering and buzzing through me, I realized how very bad this could be for me. If both my mom and Lexi found out.

The headline of the article read,WHOISCHASECOVINGTON’SMYSTERYGIRL?Had Lexi recognized me? Was this a test I’d already failed? I glanced up at her, but she was packing up her pedicure tools.

I did a quick image search and found multiple pictures of us. I hadn’t realized at the time that Chase had been shielding me as best he could with his body. You couldn’t see my face in any of the shots. You could see my hands, holding my Mace and ready to spray the crowd down, but that was it.

Because nobody had been trying to take my picture. They’d wanted a picture of him.

“Like Amelia Swan’s not bad enough, now he has secret girlfriends?”

Again, I thought I should tell her. This was the perfect opening.

Only I couldn’t explain it to her until I understood it myself.

Which I most definitely did not.

Chase texted me routinely and tweeted shots of himself on set and in his costume. Nothing spoiler-y, just stuff that made his fans happy.

Then he’d tweet stuff that left me totally confused.

Was that some kind of cryptic clue? He wanted us to eye-kiss first? That presented a problem, given that most of my flirting consisted of awkward eye contact. We’d never get to eye first base.

Or—

Inappropriate thoughts? What, had he imagined us hugging?

The thing was, I seriously missed him. I was okay being on my own. Introverts are like that. I could go long stretches of time without talking to anyone and be fine. I did what I’d done before we met—went to class, babysat the Mendel girls, worked at the Foundation, helped out with my brothers and sisters. But somehow Chase had wormed his way into my heart.

And I wanted him to come back home to California.

His girl? Just an expression, or did he think of me as his girl?

I probably should have just womanned up and asked him outright. But frustrated as I was, I didn’t want to lose whatever we had. And some part of me feared that if I pressed him, tried to force him to define the relationship, he’d define it as a friendship, and we’d be done.

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