Page 42 of Sweet Virgin

“Allie,” Marc said, rolling his shoulders forward. “The world wants you. I've had over a million emails from random people wanting to know where you are, when the next episode will air, when they'll finally get to see the unraveling of a virgin on screen. They don't want just anyone, they want you.”

“He's right, Sweetheart. We aired the pilot last week and the ratings were through the roof.”

Did I heard him right? Did he really say the pilot went out?

“What?What do you mean?” Clutching my chest, I felt my knees begin to buckle as the weight of the world seemed to fall down on my shoulders. I wasn't sure if they were just trying another tactic or were being totally honest.

My head was whirling at the idea of Kealen sitting down and watching my face on screen. I felt sick to my stomach as my tongue swelled inside my mouth, blocking my throat from getting air.

The room started to get hazy as my chest heaved for one sip of oxygen to keep my body upright. Everything was too much for me to handle, it was too much for me to digest and understand.

“We aired the pilot, Alaska.” Marc's face held this childish grin, his eyes twinkling with the promise of fame. “It was incredible, we had—”

Slamming my fist on the wall behind me, I yelled. “I don't care!” Lunging forward, I grabbed the back of the chair and leaned over it. “How long have you been following me? How long have you been planning this?”

Marc and my dad exchanged glances as I steadied myself and let his words replay in my head.

They aired it. They aired it and now it's out there.

What if he sees it?

I couldn't stand the thought of Kealen seeing me that way. I was his, I had given myself to him and him alone. It burned me, turning my insides into ashes.

“We didn't know you were going to do what you did, but we didn't have anyone follow you. We got that picture anonymously, we just used it to our advantage. It worked out, we knew when we saw it that we could get you back.” Marc stiffened his back, fiddling with random items on his desk.

Thumbing the chair, I looked between the two men in disbelief. “If you didn't do this, then why would you even think about airing the pilot? What would you have done if you didn't find me?”

My father started laughing, his head falling back like I had just told him a joke. “Allie, your phone is linked with mine, your card is under my name. Why do you think I froze your card to begin with? You were spending my money—”

“Our money.Or did you suddenly forget that I made most of that for you?” My fingertips dug into my palms, turning my knuckles white.

It was infuriating to have him drudge my name through the mud, as if all the time and effort I had put into those commercials meant nothing. He didn't give two shits about what portion was mine, in his eyes. . .

He had earned it all.

“ My point is, if I wanted to come get you, I could have, but I didn't have to, someone else did that for me. And honestly, I'd love to the shake the hand of the man who did. I don't have time to be running all over this country looking for you.”

My head was spinning, twisting and turning in on itself. I had no idea who else could have hired someone to follow me. I was sure my father would have admitted to it.

If it was his plan, if he had been the star behind the picture, he would have claimed it. My father wouldn't miss a chance to be the one in the limelight.

Then who?

Who could have done this?

And as I stood there wondering and the room began to spin and fizzle with a black mist. It hit me. . .

Kealen. Could he have. . .

No, it couldn't be.

Could it?

The pieces seemed to fit, the puzzle with open gaps was starting to fill. He was there when the picture was taken of me hitting the reporter, he left before I saw the paper with my face on the front page, he led me back to this city, he swooned me into giving myself to him.

I didn't want to believe it, but it all seemed to make sense.

But why?

I wanted to think he was being real, that he was genuine and trustworthy.

Was I wrong?

My chest started to hurt like it was being stabbed with a serrated blade, the knife twisted in deep, slicing my heart in half.

Maybe he wasn't who I thought he was.

Maybe he had planned this all along.

And maybe he was getting something out of this too.

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