Page 30 of Would You Rather
I blow out a breath. “Define better.”
His chest shakes with laughter. “I guess not then. What happened at the photoshoot?”
A heavy sigh escapes me when I turn to face him. “Why do you always have to bring her up?” I ask him. I mean, come on. She’s already invaded my work life, but now my personal life too?
“Because it’s fun watching you trip over your words whenever you talk about her,” he admits, grinning down at me like an idiot.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my brows knitting together. “I do not.”
His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “I haven’t seen you this interested in a girl before, that’s all.”
“I’m not interested in her,” I say, glaring at him. “I’m just around her. All the damn time.” It’s seriously impossible to get rid of her. She’s everywhere. At my work, on the internet, in my fucking head. Everywhere.
“And it’s driving you crazy,” he guesses.
I blow out a breath. “Insane.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t get why she affects you so much.”
I don’t fucking know either. I shrug, wiping a hand down my face. “Since I met her she has made it very fucking clear that she doesn’t like me, and there’s nothing I can do to change that,” I admit, my shoulders slumping.
I don’t even know why I care. It’s not like I like her either, but I just don’t get her. Every girl I’ve met has always been interested in me, whether it’s in sleeping with me, or for fame, they’ve wanted something from me. But this girl… “She just knows how to irritate me,” I say. “It’s a fucking gift.”
He’s quiet for a while but then he hums. “You two looked pretty cozy in the pictures together.”
Yeah, we fucking do. I don’t even know how it happens, but every single picture we’ve taken together looks like we’re about to rip each other’s clothes off. Those photographers are good at their jobs because the truth couldn’t be any more different.
“I was just doing my job. And so was she. She’s an actress,” I remind him.
He snickers. “She can’t be that good of an actress.”
I rub my chin, my beard rubbing against my fingers. “Trust me, she is.” Those pictures have everyone fooled, me included. When it comes down to it, she lets herself melt, looking at me in a way that’s so intoxicating I seem to forget there’s anyone around. Those brown eyes burn into mine, her plump lips parting as she looks up at me. She’s like a completely different person when the cameras are on us. But once they go away, and it’s just the two of us, the spell breaks, and she does everything to remind me that none of it is real.
The door opens again, but this time my sister comes in. She’s so tall and looks just like my dad. Long brown hair, tanned skin, big, hazel eyes. “Hey froggy,” I say, amusement crossing my face when she narrows her eyes at the term. She might hate it, but it’s stuck ever since she freaked out from a frog on her head when she was six. It was the funniest shit me and James had seen.
“I saw your girlfriend,” she says.
God damn it. I let out an aggravated sigh. “What did I tell you about looking at that stuff?” She’s too damn young, and the internet is ruthless. I don’t want her seeing those damn headlines about all the different girls in my bed. My family knows it’s not true, but that doesn’t mean I want her exposed to that shit.
“You told me not to look,” she explains, which tells me she’s just a little shit who does everything I tell her not to.
“And you did anyway?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She drops down on the edge of the bed and lifts her shoulder. “It was different this time. Those pictures weren’t like the other ones.”
No, they weren’t. Madeline is completely different from all those other girls Ana hired. But I know where Adrianna is going with this, and I have to shut it down. “It’s not different,” I remind her. “She’s just some girl my agent hired, froggy.”
Her brows furrow. “So you’re not dating her?” she asks with a frown.
“No, Adri.”
Her expression deflates a little. “She was pretty though,” she says, peering up at me. “Even Mom said so.”
Yeah, I’ve heard it myself. My mom told me how beautiful she thinks Madeline is whenever she sees the pictures of us together.
“Yeah,” James says, nodding with a grin. “She was.”
I turn my attention to him and narrow my eyes. “Need I remind you, you like boys?”
