Page 66 of Fangirl

Because that’s the dream, isn’t it? That’s the fantasy.

To be one of those Hollywood actors who somehow, against all odds, has it all.

In public, I’ll be Jake Hollander.

But at home? I’ll be me. Therealme. No games. No artifice. No veneer.

Just Eli… Hers. At least, that’s what I need to believe.

The levity from this improbable fantasy fades as quickly as it came, replaced by a sharp, simmering frustration when I pull into my driveway and see that car.

Will’s Lamborghini.

It’s sitting there like he owns the damn place.

My jaw tightens as I kill the engine and step out, already bracing myself because Will showing up unannounced is never a good sign. And right now, after everything, I have less than zero patience for whatever bullshit he’s about to bring into my house.

I don’t even make it to the front door before he swings his car door open, and there he is—grinning like he hasn’troyally pissed me off, and I haven’t been dodging his calls all week.

"Hey, lover boy," he drawls, leaning lazily against his car. "You gonna keep glaring, or are you gonna let me in so we can talk about how you plan to ruin your life over some Brit with a cat?"

My fists clench at my sides. "Get inside before I give the neighbors a show."

He smirks. "See, that’s the thing about you, Jake. You threaten violence, but you never deliver."

I slam the door behind us so hard the windows shake.

Will just laughs. "Okay, maybe you do have a little fight in you." He drops onto my couch like he owns it, stretching out as though he’s settling in for a long chat.

I exhale, trying to unclench my fists. I should hit him. I should throw him out of my house and tell him to stay the hell away from her. But instead, I ask, my voice low and edged with something sharp, “Why did you do this to me?” I let some of the anger fade to be replaced by weariness and hurt.

His grin fades, and for the first time, I see something other than amusement in his expression. Something that almost looks like concern.

“I needed to see if she was genuine.”

Of all the things I expected Will to say, this wasn’t one of them.

I don’t respond immediately, just sink onto the coffee table, watching him and waiting.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “You know as well as I do how rotten our world is. And maybe you thinkyou’re smooth, but you’re not that good of an actor, my friend. You’re in love with this girl.”

“I—” The denial catches in my throat because it’s absurd. I’ve known her for months, never seen her in person, never kissed her, never even touched her skin. And yet, the addiction is all too real.

Will shakes his head, a humorless laugh slipping past his lips. “I wanted to see if she was too good to be true. If she was just like the others—attracted to the money, the fame.” His grin tilts, but there’s something self-deprecating about it. “But the problem is… she’s not. That woman is so not that, and if I didn’t already know how hot and amazing I am, she’d probably make me doubt it.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. “I could’ve told you that.”

Will doesn’t laugh. Instead, his expression turns serious. “It’s a problem.”

I frown. “Why?”

“Because she’s going to hate you.”

Unease twists in my gut. “No, she likes me a lot. She hates Jake.”

Will leans forward, his voice sharper than I’m used to. “But youareJake.”

I blink at the vehemence in his tone. Will’s dramatic, sure, but this? This is something else.