Page 39 of Chasing After You
I’m sure they’ll still sell the interaction to the tabloids, but hopefully it backlashes on me more than Henry. My reputation can take it, but his can’t.
I mean, come on. They were treating Henry like he wasn’t a real fucking person.
I push the chocolate chips around my plate, wondering how crazy Henry now thinks I am. This night was going so great. And then I had to ruin it. If I hadn’t left Henry alone to go freak out in the bathroom then whoever the fuck that was wouldn’t have had the opportunity to approach Henry. I was ready to go full psycho on that woman.
“Mirabelle, you haven’t taken a single bite of your cake,” Henry points out, watching me closely as I look up at him.
“I lost my appetite.” I shrug, setting down my fork as I glance to the side out at the Charlotte skyline.
“I’m sorry about that. I’d hoped they’d be gone before you got back,” he apologizes.
“It was my fault for leaving you alone. They might have approached regardless, but I can’t stand that she felt like she could touch you.” I shudder dramatically, but it makes me sick to my stomach. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one that should be apologizing. I’m sorry. I could have held my tongue better, but it makes me so damn mad. It’s no excuse, though. I’ll call my PR team later to give them a heads-up in case those two say anything to anyone.”
“Well, I don’t think you have anything to apologize for either, so why don’t we agree that they should be the ones apologizing, and enjoy the rest of our night.” Henry takes a bite of the cake, a groan of satisfaction sounding from his mouth. I watch as his tongue flicks to get the stray dab of frosting from his lip, and all I can think about is how badly I want to kiss him again. “You should try it. It’s delicious,” he says, his lips quirking upward, and I almost wish he didn’t know me so well.
I relax a little in my seat, picking up my fork again. “I’m shocked you’re actually eating it. Your diet is pretty strict.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Henry laughs, and I can’t help joining him. I’m still feeling slightly defeated, despite how nice tonight’s dinner was. I didn’t exactly wow Henry and prove to him why I should be his real girlfriend instead of his fake girlfriend.
Right before we exit the building, Henry grabs my hand, looping his fingers through mine. I look around but there’s no paparazzi to be seen, which means hewantsto hold my hand.
Hell yeah.
Maybe tonight wasn’t such a disaster after all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Henry
I KNOW IT’S not common knowledge today was Mirabelle’s idea, but if the other interns knew she was behind today’s success, maybe they’d stop fucking with her and making snide remarks in her direction. She’s smarter and more capable than all of them combined, but Mira’s so determined to prove she belongs here that she isn’t going to breathe a word to anyone who has the power to put a stop to it.
I only know because I overheard her talking to Emily in the pool last night, but I guess they’ve been piling this extra responsibility on her which explains all the multi-tasking when she’s helping Stacey shadow me at the stadium and with the PR responsibilities that I have.
If Mirabelle ever wanted to quit her job for the team, I’d hire her in a heartbeat to run my PR team full-time.
I feel like I’ve barely seen her this week since our date last weekend, but a best friend trumps a fake boyfriend, regardless of how real that kiss felt.
The kiss I can’t stop replaying in my mind as I try to come up with an excuse to selfishly do it again. Until that happens, I’m stuck grasping to the memory, trying to place the flavor of her lip balm.
That kiss was unlike any I’ve had before. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s embarrassing how many times thinking about it has given me a reason to rub one out in the shower.
Is it wrong I’m hoping I’ll have an opportunity to kiss Mirabelle today? With both of our families here, it’s probably not the smartest choice, but I have to know if it was a fluke.
So far, everything has been a hit. In addition to the animal shelter here, Mirabelle also reached out to one of her old classmates who works with a youth special needs organization to spend the afternoon at the stadium.
Between all the children and puppies, I’ll come out of this weekend looking like a saint, unless I throw an interception. My relationship with Mirabelle has been trending all week, and the photo of us kissing has vastly overshadowed the single gossip article posted about the couple from dinner.
Everyone has been all smiles today, but no one’s shining brighter than Mirabelle. Her energy is infectious.
Despite Mirabelle not being on speaking terms with her family, they showed up today. It’s how the Walkers roll.
Her parents and the twins came into town this morning with my parents and Kaitlyn, but I’ve been avoiding my parents after the lecture I got from my dad when he finally called after news of our relationship broke. I’d been holding out hope he’d react better than Sebastian and Thalia, and that him waiting to call was a good sign, but I was wrong.
Mirabelle is standing with her best friend, Emily, holding a fluffy puppy in her arms as they pose for a picture with Tyler, an offensive lineman and a friend of mine. She’s wearing a pair of denim overalls that show off her legs, and her hair is pulled back into a long braid down her back. Mirabelle looks happy, but I can tell it’s taking a toll on her to have her parents so close, yet so far at the same time.
“You guys are doing a good job of selling the relationship,” Stacey says, pulling me back to reality. I blink rapidly, tearing my gaze away from Mirabelle.
“Thanks,” I mumble, dragging my hand through my hair.
