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I excused myself, running to the locker room to quickly wash up and put on a small amount of makeup. I told myself it was for the photographers, but the deodorant was definitely for Kyle.

He whispered in my ear before we went through the door, "You look gorgeous, and we're going to show them all that I love you even when you're post-workout. That I love you for better or for worse." He pulled me closer to him, and my breath hitched. I felt the heat blooming between us, and it wasn't because we were hot from our workout. "Although I'm not sure there's a worse here. You look great amazing when you're all hot and lycra-ed up."

I gave him a small, bewildered smile. "You are good at confidence building."

"You shouldn't need it, Lo. You're perfect."

With that, we went through the doors to meet the press, all sorts of hot flashes going through me to match the flashes from their cameras.

"You guys look like you had quite the workout!" Rob, one of the regulars, called. "Is Kyle a good workout partner, Lowell?"

"He's the best," I said, giving the reporter a megawatt smile. "Looking at him's a good incentive."

"A good incentive to work on losing weight?"

I gritted my teeth and turned to find Katie, the annoying reporter from XYZ, looking at me expectantly. Of course it had been her question.

"A good incentive to work on having a healthy body." I'd decided, without telling anyone, that I wouldn't promote losing weight to be skinny. I didn't think that was a responsible example to set for young women, many of whom would never be model-thin. Just like me.

I inspected Katie. She was stick-thin, her collarbones jutting out beneath her patterned blouse. No wonder you're such a miserable bitch. You need to go eat something and stop being so angry.

"I thought you were required, per your contract, to lose weight," Katie called, not giving up the point.

Anger bubbled up inside me, but I made sure I kept my face neutral. I'd learned the hard way that XYZ was not an entity to be messed with. "My contract requires me to be fit for my role in an action-adventure film. My conscience requires me to act as a healthy role model for young women around the world." What felt like a thousand flashes went off. I put my hands on my hips. "And now that I've had a great workout, I'm gonna go have a Jamba Juice, if you don't mind. Feel free to check the nutrition information."

Kyle put his arm around me and led me to the car. "Katie, that exclusive's not looking too good," he called back to her, grinning.

I saw the sour look on her face as she packed up her equipment and followed us with the rest of the reporters.

Trouble. It seemed that trouble was following us again.

Kyle threw his arm back around me. "I'm very proud of you, young lady."

I grimaced. "Lucas might not approve of what I just said. That might have been a mistake."

"It wasn't. Doing the right thing's never a mistake."

I gave him a nervous sideways glance. "Thanks."

He was becoming too indispensable. I liked him too much for my own good. I'd known from the beginning that this would end badly, but this added a whole new layer of bad.

"You're welcome. Now let's go get some overpriced juice. Overpriced juice makes everything better."

* * *

I called Tori before I went to bed that night.

"Oh my God, Lowell! You've finally met the perfect guy! I am dying over these pictures of you two! It's too cute!" my best friend gushed.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath. I loved Tori, but she had an issue with looking at the bright side of everything—sometimes to the detriment of reality. "He's an escort. Remember?"

"I know," she said defensively. "Doesn't mean you two can't actually like each other. And it looks like you do—in the pictures anyway."

I sighed. "I'm an actress, remember? It's an act."

Tori hesitated for a second. "Don't you at least like him? A little?"

I looked at the picture of my mother and Pierce on my dresser and sighed. "I like him. A little."

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