Page 43 of Keep Me Never
My jaw tenses but I can’t look away. How could I when Prince Charming is smiling at the perfect princess?
“Did you get to watch the performance?” he asks, moving closer.
“We did, yeah,” Paige says, including me in her answer, and when I look her way, I find she’s looking at me with a careful expression. She holds my gaze for a split second before turning back to him. “It was incredible.”
“Inspiring, isn’t it?” he fires back instantly.
My head yanks his way, eyes narrowing only to find what looks like sincerity on his face.
He continues. “There’s something about witnessing people at the top of their craft that makes me appreciate mine.”
I glare. “And what is yours?”
Their attention moves my way.
“Numbers.” He grins.
Money. He means money. But then, of course he does; the suit he’s wearing is a testament to that.
“Since you’re up there, I assume you got to walk backstage?” he asks.
“No, actually.” She takes a step toward me. “But everything we’ve gotten to see is more than I could ask for.”
My features soften as I look at her, and I smile to myself.
“I could take you guys for a quick tour if you have a few more minutes?” he offers.
Her face lights up, but I’m not sure what she sees when she looks at me because the smile grows a little tense. “Oh, actually?—”
“Go.” I cut off the excuse she was going to make on my behalf, even if I did catch how he said, “you guys,” and not just her, but we both know that’s what he meant. “I’ll go find the others, and we’ll wait for you in the lounge.”
She’s already shaking her head, but I reach out, taking her hand, giving it a little squeeze.
“Go.” My smile is forced. “I know you’re dying to see what goes on backstage.”
Her lips pinch.
“You’re welcome to come along,” the man offers, and I’ve got to give it to him. When I look up over at him, his invitation appears genuine.
I kind of hate that. “Nah, you two go ahead.” I wave them off, turning and hopping off the stage before she can protest, because something tells me she would have tried at least one more time, and I might have just let her.
But that’s the selfish part of me, the part I’m trying to break away from. Be better than.
I walk through the massive theater room, if that’s what you call this, each step up the stairs a little heavier than the last, but just before I make it out the doors, his voice catches my ears.
“Is that guy a linebacker or something? He’s buff. Tall.”
I smirk to myself, and then I hear her answer: “No, but he’s the best wide receiver I’ve ever seen.”
Pride, warm and swift, washes over me, and as I step out of the auditorium, my head is a little higher.
“What the fuck?” Cameron whispers, and then she slaps me upside the head.
I jerk, glaring at her. “What the hell?”
“What the hell isright!” she hisses. “What the ever-lovinghellwere you thinking letting her walk awayalonewith…that?”
I follow her gaze, and my brows yank together when I spot Paige and Prescott standing at the entrance of the lounge.
