Page 103
Story: Rockstar's Fake Engagement
“Family First! I’ve arranged everything. The cameras will be there in an hour to film you and Nate giving back to the community. It’s exactly what we need right now.”
My stomach knots. “I don’t know, Rachel. Maybe we should run this by Nate first—“
“Already taken care of,” she interrupts smoothly. “The facility director is thrilled. Think about it, Lacey—this kind of exposure could mean so much for those kids. Donations, awareness, support...”
I bite my lip, remembering how passionate Nate is about the place. “He’s in meetings all morning.”
“Perfect! You’ll arrive first, get some solo shots with the kids, and he’ll join later. The timing couldn’t be better.”
“Rachel—“
“Trust me, this is gold. The caring couple, giving back together? The press will eat it up, and Family First gets the attention it deserves. It’s a win-win.”
I glance at my phone, composing a quick text to Nate: ‘Heading to Family First. Rachel has something set up. Call when you can?’
“The cars are already lined up,” Rachel continues. “Wear something casual but camera-ready.”
Before I know it, a rental car arrives like magic, and I’m heading to the Family First building, my message to Nate still unanswered. The knot in my stomach grows as I pull up to the facility. Camera crews are setting up outside, and the facility director greets me with enthusiastic handshakes.
Inside, the children’s faces light up when they see me. “Lacey!” Emma, the little girl from our last visit, runs up, throwing her arms around my waist. “Where’s Nate? Will he be playing the drums?”
“He’ll be here soon,” I promise, trying to ignore the cameras already rolling. More kids gather around. Their genuine excitement about being on camera is infectious, and I find myself relaxing despite the artificial setup.
I kneel down beside one of the younger boys. I forget his name, but he looks adorable as he begins to strum a guitar.
The door swings open.
And suddenly, the energy in the room changes.
I glance up—And there he is.
Nate stands in the doorway, tall, broad, still in his dark jeans and white dress shirt from this morning. His blue eyes scan the room, taking in the crew, the staged scene—and the warmth I’m used to seeing there turns to ice.
And when they land on the cameras—Everything freezes.
My stomach drops as his jaw clenches and his entire posture stiffens.
Emily walks in behind him, frowning when she sees the camera crew.
The kids don’t seem to notice, still bouncing with excitement as they run to greet him.
But I know better because of the way Nate is looking at me right now.
It’s the look of a man on the edge—furious, seething—one breath away from losing all control.
Thirty-Two
Nate
The second I step into the room, I know.
The fucking cameras.
The crew is moving around, angling for the best shot, positioning themselves like vultures waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
I told them—I told them Family First was off-limits.
My chest tightens as I scan the room, my pulse hammering against my ribs. The kids—my kids—are laughing, smiling, oblivious to the bullshit happening around them.
My stomach knots. “I don’t know, Rachel. Maybe we should run this by Nate first—“
“Already taken care of,” she interrupts smoothly. “The facility director is thrilled. Think about it, Lacey—this kind of exposure could mean so much for those kids. Donations, awareness, support...”
I bite my lip, remembering how passionate Nate is about the place. “He’s in meetings all morning.”
“Perfect! You’ll arrive first, get some solo shots with the kids, and he’ll join later. The timing couldn’t be better.”
“Rachel—“
“Trust me, this is gold. The caring couple, giving back together? The press will eat it up, and Family First gets the attention it deserves. It’s a win-win.”
I glance at my phone, composing a quick text to Nate: ‘Heading to Family First. Rachel has something set up. Call when you can?’
“The cars are already lined up,” Rachel continues. “Wear something casual but camera-ready.”
Before I know it, a rental car arrives like magic, and I’m heading to the Family First building, my message to Nate still unanswered. The knot in my stomach grows as I pull up to the facility. Camera crews are setting up outside, and the facility director greets me with enthusiastic handshakes.
Inside, the children’s faces light up when they see me. “Lacey!” Emma, the little girl from our last visit, runs up, throwing her arms around my waist. “Where’s Nate? Will he be playing the drums?”
“He’ll be here soon,” I promise, trying to ignore the cameras already rolling. More kids gather around. Their genuine excitement about being on camera is infectious, and I find myself relaxing despite the artificial setup.
I kneel down beside one of the younger boys. I forget his name, but he looks adorable as he begins to strum a guitar.
The door swings open.
And suddenly, the energy in the room changes.
I glance up—And there he is.
Nate stands in the doorway, tall, broad, still in his dark jeans and white dress shirt from this morning. His blue eyes scan the room, taking in the crew, the staged scene—and the warmth I’m used to seeing there turns to ice.
And when they land on the cameras—Everything freezes.
My stomach drops as his jaw clenches and his entire posture stiffens.
Emily walks in behind him, frowning when she sees the camera crew.
The kids don’t seem to notice, still bouncing with excitement as they run to greet him.
But I know better because of the way Nate is looking at me right now.
It’s the look of a man on the edge—furious, seething—one breath away from losing all control.
Thirty-Two
Nate
The second I step into the room, I know.
The fucking cameras.
The crew is moving around, angling for the best shot, positioning themselves like vultures waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
I told them—I told them Family First was off-limits.
My chest tightens as I scan the room, my pulse hammering against my ribs. The kids—my kids—are laughing, smiling, oblivious to the bullshit happening around them.
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