Page 33 of The Hollywood Switch-up

“Nothing happened.” Too fast. “I just—I saw him this morning. At the beach.”

Lily’s eyebrows climbed slowly. “The sunrise swim.”

Erika focused very hard on a sequin that didn’t need adjusting.

“The sunrise swim where he doesn’t wear⁠—”

“Yes. That one.”

Lily set down her scissors. “And you just happened to be there.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I went for a walk. It’s not like I planned to see—” Erika’s hand fluttered uselessly. “All of that.”

“All of that.” Lily was enjoying this far too much. She leaned back in her chair, arms folded, studying Erika like she was a particularly interesting pattern to cut. “So the rumors are true? About his . . . generosity?”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not a no.” Lily’s laugh was throaty. She reached over and pinched Erika’s cheek. “Dios mío, the look on your face right now. You’re the color of my tita’s sangria.”

Erika swatted her hand away. “Can we please⁠—”

“No, we cannot.” Lily was already reaching for her phone. “Because while you were getting an eyeful of Stefan Cruz at dawn, Page Eight was doing what Page Eight does.”

She thrust the screen at Erika. The headline hit like ice water:

FRENEMIES WITH BENEFITS? CRUZ AND MORGAN HEAT UP THE BAHAMAS

Erika’s throat closed. The photo beneath it was grainy but unmistakable—her and Stefan on the practice mat, his body pinning hers, their faces inches apart.

“‘One minute they look ready to kill each other,’” Lily read, clearly savoring every word, “‘the next it looks like they’re about to kiss.’” She peered over the phone, eyebrows raised. “Accurate?”

“I’m going to be sick.”

“That’s also not a no.”

She imagined Anneliese’s reaction—not anger, but that wounded look of betrayal. The same expression she’d worn when #AnnieIsOverParty trended for three days straight.

“This is ridiculous,” Erika groaned. “It was hardly steamy, we were just in fight training, and things got a little . . . physical.”

“A little physical?” Lily arched an eyebrow, plucking the phone back from Erika’s numb fingers. “Honey, I saw you two. He had you pinned against that training mat for a solid thirty seconds. The entire grip department stopped what they were doing to watch.”

“That was—he tripped me!” Erika’s hands flew to straighten a sequined gown that didn’t need straightening. “It was a simple mishap during the scene where Jake captures Luna.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Lily’s knowing smirk made Erika want to disappear into the costume rack. “And I suppose his hand lingering on your hip was also strictly professional?”

“That was acting!” Erika’s voice cracked. “We were following the script!”

“Were you?” Lily’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Because I’ve read that script. It doesn’t say ‘stare into each other’s eyes for ten seconds after the director calls cut.’”

“I was just . . . observing. For character research.”

Lily snorted. “Look, I’ve been in this business long enough to know chemistry when I see it. And honey, what you two have is nuclear.”

“Annie will think I’m sabotaging her,” Erika whispered. “And Lily—something’s off with Stefan. The way he looks at me, like he’s solving a puzzle. Asking questions Anneliese should know the answers to. Then yesterday, he stepped between Martin and me. Why would he do that?”

“Your sister’s arch-nemesis is playing twenty questions and bodyguard? That’s not the behavior of a man sharpening his knife.”

“Maybe he’s just waiting for the perfect moment to humiliate me,” Erika whispered, tugging at a loose thread on her sleeve.