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Eloise showed up with the crown, then demanded to adjust the cape because she was convinced Kobie put it on “all wrong.” After five minutes of her fiddling with every little thing but not actually changing anything, someone called her away to look at something on the stage, which was a small miracle, because I was about thirty seconds away from losing my shit with her.
More minutes passed.
More people kept staring at me, and now there were whispers.
I wanted to peel off my skin.
Brody and Will popped into the backstage area and beelined for me. The whispers got louder.
“Hey,” Brody said as he ran his hand through his hair.
“How are you holding up?” Will asked.
I stopped pacing and looked around. “I’d be doing a lot better if everyone wasn’t staring and whispering. I honestly didn’t think it’d be this bad.”
Will and Brody looked at one another.
Will cleared his throat and nudged Brody. “You’re the one who set this in motion,” he whispered.
Brody rolled his eyes. “Oh sure, now you give me credit.” Will pinned him with a pointed look. “Right.” Brody faced me head-on and put his hands on his hips. “Have you seen it yet?”
“Seen what?” I gritted the words out through my teeth. I wanted to talk to Sadie, and we were running out of time before the ceremony was going to start.
Brody sighed and pulled out his phone, then handed it over to me. An article was pulled up in the browser.
How to Score a Travel Fling with a Broken Bad Boy.
Words swam in front of my eyes as the floor fell out from under my feet.
Show an interest in the things he cares about, even if they bore you to tears.
Find a shared history or trauma, even if you have to make one up.
Worried about pretending to be someone you’re not? Don’t be. He’ll never know the difference. And odds are, the sex will be worth it!
The whole thing had an ugly, flippant tone I never would’ve imagined coming from Sadie. But right at the top—staring me in the face—was the picture she’d snapped of us Monday morning. The one she’d assured me was just for her.
The article was posted in the last hour and had already racked up close to two thousand comments.
I stumbled backward, fumbling Brody’s phone in the process. Suddenly, everything was too bright and too loud back here. I crumpled into the folding chair as spots danced in my peripheral vision.
Will drove the final nail into the coffin as Brody bent to pick up his phone. “There’s a whole article about the Everetts too. With about a million pictures of them and their kids.” He took a deep breath. “And they published his address.”
It had been an act.
The whole thing had been a fucking act.
