Page 25 of Falling for Mr. October

“And you did it shirtless?” Luanne asks.

“Yes,” I concede, feeling heat rise in my face. “It wasn’t sexual. It was just…”

“You showed off those—” Bianca waves toward my abdomen. “And you’re saying it wasn’t sexual?”

“So you like what you saw?” I say before my judgment can catch up with me.

Me and my big fucking mouth.

Bianca glares at me, while Luanne laughs easily. “Who wouldn’t?”

I shrug at Bianca. “Look. Everyone needs to have some kind of gimmick to stand out. That was my thing. I was just trying to raise some money when my family business was going through a tough patch, and⁠—”

“You made money from it?”

A lot of money, actually, through advertisements, product placements, and The Shirtless Chef merch store. More money than I’d ever seen in my life. I was pretty pleased with myself, right up until it all blew up in my face.

It bears admitting that I could now earn a lot more money. Since people found out who I am, I’ve received interview requests from broadcast television shows, emails from talent agents, and even a message from a movie producer. They all want a piece of The Shirtless Chef.

But it isn’t worth it.

My grandmother can’t look me in the eye without muttering about lost souls and ungrateful boys, and back home, strangers started catcalling me on the streets. I couldn’t go to the gym anymore, because random passersby kept pressing their faces to the glass.

Complete strangers emailed me nude photos.

Others told me they wished I’d choke to death on camera.

A woman kissed me at my friend’s bar, and I only figured out she wasn’t for real when I got back from the bathroom and found her filming a live video about how she was going to fuck the Shirtless Chef and report back with a review.

For the record: I did not sleep with her.

And then there was the incident that had basically driven me out of my hometown, not to mention the entire state of Maine.

The end result was that this thing that had been secretly, beautifully mine now feels like it has fuck-all to do with me. It’s turned into an avalanche, driving bullshit into every crevice of my life.

Bianca’s still staring at me, waiting for an answer to her money question, so I nod slowly. “It was good to me for a while. And the shop is doing well. But there’s a price. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you and your family. Nonna Francesca and I will go home. I was just…we both wanted to get away from the chaos for a while.”

“How many people watched these videos?” Bianca asks, her expression shifting. She’s interested, despite herself.

“Tens of millions,” I admit, feeling overwhelmed all over again. “They were really popular before. More so now.” I clear my throat. “My grandmother and Enzo walked in on me making a live video. They were…upset. The camera got knocked over, and it showed my face. The footage went viral, and the rest of my videos got more views, and, well, here we are. Life got pretty impossible back home. Everyone knew about it. Everyone had an opinion or a thought or wanted something.”

Bianca nods, her gaze holding mine, an invisible connection that I feel in my chest. “This is what you meant the other day. Be careful of what you wish for.”

I brush my hair away from my face. “You’re right. I’m a middle child, and I always did want attention.”

Especially after my mother left us.

I shrug. “Turns out it sucks.”

“What are we waiting for?” Luanne asks, wheeling half a foot closer to me.

I squint at her. “Excuse me?”

“Aren’t we going to watch that video? I’d like to know what all the fuss is about.”

“Not while he’s here,” Emily says in an undertone. “That’s the kind of thing you do when someone isn’t watching.”

“Yeah…” I admit. “I’d prefer it if you waited.”