Page 68 of Selling Out
Well, no. That’s not true. I’m aware of my reputation. And it’s not like there’s no grain of truth in it. I’ve let loose and embraced the lifestyle expected of me, but it got old quickly.
Mia’s brow furrows. “I saw you laughing with her yesterday, so I just figured…”
“Yeah. We were laughing because she and Paul were soawkward about asking me if I’d make myself scarce. Believe me, Mia, last night I was totally and completely alone, kicking my heels in the city so they could spend time together. She flew in yesterday.”
“I had no idea.” She absently reaches for the hem of my sleeve and flips it down. “I’m sorry for assuming.”
“You love assuming the worst of me, don’t you?” I grab her hand from my sleeve and thread my fingers through, tugging her close until our noses almost touch and our clasped hands hover between us.
“It can be scary believing the best of someone,” she says, her voice the tiniest bit breathy. She’s feeling it too—the spark between us. Knowing that only intensifies it for me.
“Why’s that?” I say, letting my lips graze hers.
“Because it hurts more when they prove you wrong.”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Mia,” I whisper.
She takes in a shuddering breath, then searches out my lips, gently kissing me like she’s still not sure whether to believe me.
I clasp her hand more tightly as I kiss her slow and soft. The way I feel for Mia scares me in a way I haven’t been in a long time. But I don’t know how to stay away from her. I don’t want to.
She drifts away slowly, and her gaze lifts to me. “What are we doing?”
I hesitate. “Kissing in a cleaning closet?”
“Andwhyare we kissing in a cleaning closet?”
I don’t respond, searching her face as well as I can in the dark.
“You said we can’t be together,” she says. “So, what exactly are we doing?”
“We’re… getting to know each other. Without the pressure of other people having opinions about it.”
She nods slowly. “And what’syouropinion about it?”
“My opinion?” I think for a minute. “My opinion is we don’t need to rush into putting a label on things.”
She nods again. “Maybe we should take it a little more slowly, then.”
I try to ignore the way my stomach clenches. “Okay. No more cleaning closet kisses. Got it. That’s more of a tenth date thing, anyway.” Jokes are the only way I know to keep myself from reading into her suggestion, from translating it in my head into being about something it’s not. And that something is Noah Hayes.
I take my phone out of my pocket and check the clock. “We should probably get out there. They’ll be starting blocking. Are you and Noah heading out right after?”
“Yeah,” she says, peeking at the time on my phone. “I told him I’d text him when we’re done.”
My brow knits. “Why? He’ll finish the same time as you.”
“What do you mean?”
I search her gaze. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“He’s doing surprise appearances at our shows in France, including tonight’s.”
She stares at me. “Was that always the plan?”
I shake my head, feeling the frustration at the situation building inside, but I’m not letting it get to me. “It just got decided.” Thrown at me, more like.
