You can’t have fucking dimples.
You’re going to kill me.
“If you really want my cock that badly, you have to give me something, too.”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’d need to see you get on your knees and beg,” he tells me, giving me a pointed look. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”
He holds my gaze for another moment as I struggle for how to respond. Finally, he blows me a little kiss, then turns and walks back into the hotel before I can say anything.
“Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking—oh my God! Oh my God, I’m crying?—”
I jump as a pair of hands come down on the back of my hair. I just got out of the driver’s SUV and emerged into a thicker crowd than I’ve ever witnessed in person.
The crowd is so thick I’m put on edge instantly, like I’m trapped in a mob.
It’s been three days since I left the Bellwood out the back alleyway and nobody was out there other than the bartender.
I didn’t go to the bar that night, and now I haven’t had a chance for the past three days.
In the interim,Yard Linefans have apparently spread the word that my driver uses the back alleyway behind the Bellwood. Two days ago, a small group of them showed up when I got back. Yesterday, the crowd was even larger.
But today it’s fucking pandemonium.
I turn to see the girl who’s sobbing, with dark black streaks of mascara running down her cheeks, gripping at me like she’s in some sort of out-of-body psychosis.
“Logan,” she sobs, drawing it out as if the word had more syllables than it should. Another group of girls surrounds her, all of them pushing their phones into my face, some of them with the flashlights on to get a better look at me in the dark evening.
“Everybody move!”the Bellwood Hotel security guard’s voice booms.
But there’s only one of him.
There are hundreds of people here, crushing around us, all of them shouting at me.
My heart slams in my chest. I adjust the collar of my shirt.
Over the last 72 hours, it’s as if something caught in the air and the entire world decided it, all at once:Logan Stone is a rising star, but we’re about to turn him into the most famous actor in the world.
It started with a simple social media post.
A video clip of me in front of one of the digital billboards in Times Square, smiling and gesturing up at my own gigantic, shirtless photo that’s hanging over the center of the city. The clip was filmed in slow motion, and in front of the giant billboard, I mimic my character Damien, grabbing a football and throwing it.
And then I wink at the screen and say“how about a Season 2?”
IthoughtI already knew it felt like having a video go viral. All month, I’ve been having them.
But this one was something different.
It got shared about a hundred million times… and then a hundred million more, the next day.
The Bellwood security have now informed me that they called the police the moment the crush of fans started to descend into the back alley, but they’re stuck at the edge of the street now, trying to make their way over.
“Can I get a picture? Logan! Logan!”
A sweet woman is holding out her phone camera in selfie mode. She looks a little bit like my mom, and it tugs at my heart.
“Ah. Um, a quick one,” I tell her, knowing damn well that I shouldn’t linger here. But I can’t say no.
