Page 89 of Try Hard
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eve
Ismiled, leaning on the bar as Tanika chatted animatedly at Ophelia. She was discussing some gossip from her office, but I’d long since lost track of the conversation, too wrapped up in watching Ophelia’s expressions. In fairness, it was late, the evening was winding down, and Tanika wasn’t talking to me. She’d grabbed Ophelia's elbow and towed her a few feet from me—and I’d decided to make my peace with the fact that, when Ophelia was in my life, jealousy was an emotion I experienced. It wasn’t that I thought Tanika was hitting on her—the woman was resolutely straight—it was just that I couldn’t get enough time around Ophelia. I wanted her to enjoy her friends and reconnect, and I wanted, desperately, to be hers. Always had. She’d been through so much, though. We needed to go slow—even with our limited time together in Eddlesworth.
I was beginning to wonder how much Row would murder me if I told her I wanted to work remotely more often after my break—like, from wherever in the world that allowed me to see Ophelia.
“Hey,” Sammy said, sidling up far too close behind me. She drew the word out like she was drunk, but I’d barely seen her with a drink all night. And the last one had been over an hour ago.
“Hey,” I said, very purposefully friendly, not flirty, as I tried to step back from her. She followed me, of course. Trapping me between the bar and a couple I didn’t know.
“So…” She moved her finger to my shoulder, running over the edge of my suspenders again. If Ophelia hadn’t done such an incredible double take when she’d first seen me in them, I’d regret wearing them.
“Yes?”
“I’m just wondering if outfits like this are why people call youDaddyrather than Mother?”
“No, actually. That’s from an interview I did on a podcast where they asked which I… preferred.” That hadn’t quite been how the conversation went, and, unfortunately, a lot of the fans had somewhat missed the point of the conversation, but I’d gotten used to it.
Sammy’s eyes lit up and I knew she definitely wasn’t drunk. “So, you have a daddy kink?”
“No.” I usually tried to be nice with fans, even when they asked inappropriate or intrusive questions, but there was a line and she was crossing it. “And I prefer not to discuss topics like that with people I don’t know.”
She laughed and stroked my arm. “I’m hardly a stranger. We’re getting to know each other.”
I cleared my throat and apologised to the couple beside me as I jostled them to get some distance from Sammy. “Look, we both want this wedding to go well and we care about Kieran and Kim, but I think I need to put some boundaries in place.”
“Oh, yeah? You want to take things slow?” She approached me again and I felt my muscles locking down, fighting againstthe uncomfortable twisting in my gut. “I like things fast and har—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, hands raised like a barrier. “I’m perfectly happy to be friendly and chat while we’re at these events, but that’s as far as it goes. I’m sorry if you were hoping for something else, but I’m not interested.”
Her eyes flashed to something over my shoulder and I had a sick feeling that it was Ophelia she was glaring at. “Because of her? You’re picking her over me?”
Picking Ophelia over her would imply there had been some kind of choice between them, that I’d been torn, that anyone but Ophelia had ever been in the running. I wasn’t going to point that out, though, even if the moment was making me want to do everything in my power to protect Ophelia.
The realisation that, if she chose to be with me, this probably wouldn’t be the only time she faced such ire caused my chest to ache. She didn’t deserve that. And a lot of it wouldn’t be said directly to me. There was little I could do to control it.
I didn’t regret how I’d lived my life, but I wasn’t thrilled that parts of it might hurt Ophelia.
I cleared my throat. “This isn’t anyone else’s doing. This is me, and me alone, saying no and asking you to respect that.”
Her eyes flicked back to mine. “She can’t handle your life, can’t handle the celebrity.”
“You don’t know her.” The jab hurt more than I wanted it to with that very question hanging over us. “And, like I just said, this isn’t Ophelia’s doing.”
Sammy stepped closer again. “I can give you what you want, what you need. I know you. I’ve been paying attention.”
“No. You know a version of me that exists in public. That isn’t the same as knowing someone. That’s a mere snapshot of one part of me. And the real, full me is asking you to stop this. I would appreciate it if you’d abide by that.”
She laughed like this was a flirty game, and fear prickled at the edges of my mind. People generally gave up once firm boundaries were established, once they saw my usual relaxed demeanour stiffen into something far more distant. Being in the public eye sometimes made people feel entitled to you. Plenty of fans were perfectly lovely and reasonable, but Sammy wasn’t my first encounter with ones who blew past boundaries. I didn’t want it to get any worse.
“I think it’s best,” I said in my most serious tone, “if you and I keep our distance from one another moving forward.” There was only the wedding left to go, so it shouldn’t be too hard, even if that would be a whole day in the same location.
“But, Eve…” She looked genuinely hurt, and, through my fear and irritation, the look flooded me with confusion. Was it real? Just an attempt to have me walk my words back? Could she really not see how she’d been inappropriate?
I held up a hand. “Have a good night.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have headed straight for Ophelia given that Sammy was already, ridiculously, blaming her, but I wanted to protect her. I wanted the comfort of being with her.
