Page 20 of The Publicist
She announces our goodbyes, and Elena comes over to us. “Leaving already?” she asks, shock written on her face.
“Yeah, I’m a bit tired. It was a long day yesterday and this morning.”
She pulls me in for a hug and whispers, “I like her. I think she’s good for you. Don’t fuckthisone up.” She pulls back, and I nod at her.
Elena was there for me when I went down the rabbit hole with my last relationship. She helped put the pieces back together. Most people have no idea what that break-up did to me. In public, I was the party boy, but in private, I could barely get out of bed. I partied because it kept my mind and body busy; I didn’t have to think about how I fucked up so bad.
We head back out front and wait for the car. She rests her head on my shoulder, and we play the part of a happy couple for the photos. When the car arrives, I help her into it and then get in myself, pulling out into traffic to take her home. “Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“Leaving.”
“Well, then thank you for not making a fool of yourself on the dance floor…orwith Tait.”
Her phone goes off, and she reads the text. She smiles and responds before putting her phone back down in her lap. I want to know who it is, but I also know it’s none of my damn business so I don’t ask. I assume, if she wants me to know about it, she’ll tell me. She’s quiet the rest of the way back to her house, and when I pull into the driveway, she turns to look at me.
“Do you want to come in for a bit? It’s still early, and I thought maybe we could try to plan our fake relationship to make it look real.”
I smirk. “I thought you never invite guys in for a drink?”
She laughs, recalling what she told Tait earlier. “Well, how can I not invite my pretend boyfriend in?”
The wayboyfriendrolls off her tongue makes me excited, and I push away the fact the wordpretendis in front of it. I want to go in with her so bad, but I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I walk through the doorway.
I shake my head. “No, it’s probably best if I leave. I don’t want you to do something you might regret in the morning.” I see the hurt flash across her face and place my hands on her cheeks so I can look into her big green eyes. “Quinn, I would like more than anything to come in tonight. You said it yourself—no kissing and no fucking. If I step through your doorway tonight, I’m going to want both. I’m not putting you in that position. I know this is your job, and I don’t want you to feel you have to choose. I’ll be good and won’t put you in that position again, all right?”
She nods in understanding. “What if I want you to come in though?”
“You better understand what will happen if you open that invitation. Because there is no way I’ll be able to stop.”
She takes a deep breath. “Caleb, would you like to come in?”
Chapter 19
My phone buzzesand I look down; it’s a message from Tait.
Tait:What can I do to make you my fake girlfriend? No way this isreal. I don’t know you well, but I know when it’s a stunt.
I smile as I type the response back to him.
Me:If you want to be my friend, you will smile and play nice, Tait. Don’t make me have to slap you around again. I’m very good at it, and I have no problem doing so.
I know my response is going to earn me some kind of sarcastic remark, but I’m going to ignore my phone for now.
“Do you want to come in for a bit? It’s still early, and I thought maybe we could try to plan our fake relationship to make it look real,” I ask, hoping he will say yes.
He smirks. “I thought you never invite guys in for a drink?”
I laugh; he was listening to what I told Tait earlier. “Well, how can I not invite mypretendboyfriend in?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s probably best if I leave. I don’t want you to do something you might regret in the morning.” Pain flashes across my features, and I try to school them immediately. He takes my face in his hands and makes me look at him “Quinn, I would like more than anything to come in tonight. You said it yourself—no kissing and no fucking. If I step through your doorway tonight, I’m going to want both, and I’m not putting you in that position. I know this is your job. I don’t want you to feel you have to choose. I’ll be good and won’t put you in that position again, all right?”
He’s right; everything he just said is the truth. This is all pretend, and this is my job at stake, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I nod. “What if I want you to come in though?”
“You better understand what will happen if you open that invitation. Because there is no way I’ll be able to stop.”
If I invite him in, there is a good chance everything is going to change. But if I don’t, I’ll never know. Right now, I need to know if the sparks in each one of our kisses were real or if I’m just imagining everything.