Page 33 of Selling Out
“It doesn’thaveto be. You can draw boundaries, you know.”
“Yeah? And how do you propose I do that? Someplace like last night—a meet-and-greet—do I make an announcement telling people where they can touch me? Do I have a life-size model of myself showing where they can stand, where their hands go, and what parts of me are off-limits?”
She shrugs. “Sure.”
“And when a fan violates the rules?”
“Send ‘em packing.”
I cross my arms and shake my head. She doesn’t understand.
“What? You’re shaking your head. Tell me why.” She turns toward me, resting one knee on the bench.
I mirror her so we’re facing each other. “These people pay my bills, Mia. I can’t exist without them.”
“Yeah, they pay your bills. That doesn’t mean they can do whatever they want to you.”
“Fine.” I stand up. “Show me, then.”
She looks at me, bemused. “Show you what?”
“Show me what you’d do in my position. Let’s see how you’d handle it, Boundary Boss.” I put out my hand, and even though she rolls her eyes, she lets me pull her up. I face her. “First, a bit of context. You’re Mia Sawyer, superstar musician.”
She laughs. “Good to know how you’d describe yourself. Go on.”
“You’re known by your fans as being charming and likable, flirtatious, fun.”
She cocks a brow. “Their words, not yours?”
I ignore her and take a step closer. “I’m one of your biggest fans. I’ve paid hard-earned money and picked up extra shifts to come see you perform, scraping together pennies and going without my morning Starbucks for the last month so I could pay for the meet-and-greet add-on.”
I step closer, and her playful expression flickers slightly. “I bought a special outfit for tonight, knowing I’d see you. I have every single one of your songs memorized and a poster of you on my ceiling that I look at every night before I go to sleep.”
I take another step, and our knees brush. Mia’s eyelids flicker, and her smile disappears. “I dream about you sometimes. About what it would feel like to be with you.”
Her eyes are fixed on me, unblinking. She swallows as I brush my fingers lightly down her arm, my eyes still locked on hers. “I fantasize about what it would be like to be yours.” Heart beating like horse hooves, I slip my hand around her waist and keep my voice low. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat if you’d have me, but if not, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.” She takes in a shaky breath, and I lean in to whisper in her ear. “And now I finally have my moment with you.”
12
MIA
I don’t knowwho I am, where I am, or what’s happening to me. All I know is Austin’s hand is on my waist, his warm breath is grazing my ear, and my heart rate is through the roof. He’s saying words in my ear that make my blood feel like fire in my veins.
Austin’s voice is barely a whisper. “Where are those boundaries now?”
I step back, and he drops his hand from my waist. I glance at our surroundings, grounding myself. We’re still at Old Town Square, and even though the number of people has diminished, there are still a couple hundred people around. None of them are looking at us.
“Okay, I get it,” I say, happy my voice doesn’t sound as wobbly as my knees. “You’ve proven your point. But I still maintain that boundaries are possible.”
“Fine,” he says. “I mean, you failed the test, but let’s pretend you didn’t.”
I shoot him an unamused look. I feel like a complete idiot knowing how affected I was by histest—and how unaffectedhewas. It shouldn’t surprise me. This is Austin Sheppard we’retalking about. He autographs women’s bodies, for crying out loud.
He claps his hands and rubs them together. “Give me some strategies, Mia. I’m ready for ‘em.”
“Great.”
I can do this. I can be just as nonchalant about it as he is. Easy peasy.
