Page 83 of Try Hard
“Plenty of people routinely tell the world they’re in love with her. It doesn’t really mean anything.”
“She’s not wrapping herself around them like a tree.”
“Comparing me to a tree is not complimentary.”
“Entirely missing the point.”
I turned to look at where Eve was dancing with a group of people from school, laughing with them. Sammy was trying very hard to capture her attention and dance with just her. “I think Eve’s got someone else vying for her attention.”
Tanika glanced over her shoulder, following my gaze. “Oh, my god. Look, Sammy’s great and all, but she’s so not Eve’s type.”
“I didn’t realise you and Eve were so close.”
She shot me a sarcastic look. “Not once has Eve ever been interested in people who want her for her fame.”
“What a cutting take on your fellow bridesmaid.” I couldn’t help thinking she was right, though. From everything I’d ever heard about Eve, she’d always stayed away from people who were after the stardom, preferring to keep her relationships low key and out of the public eye as much as possible.
Maybe being with her, even if she couldn’t promise me complete privacy, wouldn’t be as exposing as I’d feared.
Tanika flicked my comment away. “Just calling it how it is, and Sammy—well, I’m sure she does think Eve’s hot, but she’s also definitely interested in the celebrity. And, either way, itdoesn’t matter. Eve wants you. No chance she’s giving that up to be with Sammy.”
I hummed, certain the noise would get lost in the pounding music.
Eve had always been the best, most interesting person in any room. None of that was to do with her being famous. Sure, her abilities were attractive, but that was more to do with how hard she worked, how good she was. It wasn’t as though I’d only started liking that about her when she’d hit the big time. I’d always just likedher.
Sammy, meanwhile, didn’t even know her. They’d met each other twice now. Sure, she could be attracted to her, but it wasn’t like she really understood who Eve was. Almost everything she thought she knew would be from some parasocial connection.
The reality was that Sammy was interested in Eve the professional athlete, the celebrity. Not the person who smiled every time she caught one of Hercules’ stray hairs on her when she was out of the house.
As if she’d sensed my attention on her, Eve sought me out, her expression softening adorably when she met my eyes. I couldn’t help smiling back at her, and it felt like the rest of the room melted into the background.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eve
When Tanika rejoined the group, Ophelia wasn’t with her. I scanned the club immediately.
“Where’s Fia?” I asked, leaning across the small circle our group had formed to speak to Tanika.
She grinned knowingly. “She’s at the bar.”
I looked again, eyes narrowed. There was no reason for the anxiety building in my chest. Ophelia was an adult who absolutely knew how to handle herself. But I knew she wasn’t keen on this many people trying to talk to her, expecting socialisation from her.
Plus, Adnan had conveniently disappeared, and that felt sketchy. Sure, he was a good guy, but I hadn’t missed the way Ophelia hated him checking her out. The way she’d stiffened and hidden half of her body in my side had screamed her discomfort, but he hadn’t picked up on it.
“Don’t worry about her,” Sammy said, her hand finding my back again. “You don’t need to watch after her constantly.”
I stepped away from her touch. Maybe Ophelia had been right. Sammy was more persistent than I’d given her credit for. And, when she dismissed Ophelia’s needs, she was starting to stretch even my endless patience.
It wasn’t that I thought Ophelia couldn’t handle herself. I knew she could. It was that even the strongest people in the world deserved love, protection, and care from those close to them. And God knew she hadn’t received nearly enough of that over the years.
Maybe I was on a one-woman mission to finally provide Ophelia with all the devotion I’d been carrying for her since we were teenagers—and all the care she should have been receiving in the interim. I was fine with that. And I wasn’t letting Sammy interfere.
An awkward conversation was probably in my future.
“I’ll be back,” I told Kieran as I patted his shoulder, careful not to disturb his balance as he danced.
There was no way Ophelia had moved far from where I’d last seen her—that stunning moment when the whole world seemed to stand still and all that mattered in the universe was her. It reminded me of one of our GCSE English classes. It had been my turn to give a speech to the class—only the second person to go by virtue of having a last name beginning with A—and, while public speaking didn’t bother me, there was always something a little uncomfortable about standing in front of your class and talking at them for several long minutes. Ophelia had watched intently through the entire thing, nodding occasionally, her face betraying when she found something new or interesting, and, in the end, I’d only really been talking to her. The other twenty-five kids and our teacher faded into the background, and I’d have willingly kept talking to her for hours.
