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Chapter 8 - Laurel
“Damn it, Shakes, you’re going to ruin everything,” I said as he led me toward his car.
“We’re live, Laur,” he said in a warning tone.
I got into the passenger seat, soaked with rain again and closed my eyes, praying for patience. I couldn’t rage at him with my viewers all watching to see what happened next. I tried to grab his phone to end the stream, because this wasn’t a stunt, this was my real life, and I had a terrible, empty pit in my stomach, like I’d just lost something important.
He kept it from me, holding it out so we were both in the viewfinder. “We’re safe, guys. I rescued her from that asshole. It’s all good.”
I wanted to get back out of the car and limp down the mountain in the rain after all. I watched the comments zoom by, all of them hysterically excited to be witnessing such drama. I remembered what Ben said about attention hounds and felt mortified. Filming my stunts was one thing. I never wanted to be part of a reality show. But I needed to keep their interest, because I had no idea how long it would be to find a new location. Ziplining across rivers and doing free climbs I’d done a dozen times for them wasn’t cutting it anymore, especially when I’d been teasing my big stunt for so long.
“It wasn’t a rescue,” I said, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. “Seriously, it was just a misunderstanding. I’m hoping we’ll be back on track for the stunt before you know it.”
My forced cheer and huge fake smile made me feel sick, but I managed to get the phone from him.
“I’ll go live again later,” Shakes called as I ended the stream.
I gave him a dirty look, worried about what nonsense he’d spew to them. I also wanted to tell him how rude it was to burst in like he did, but he’d only tell me it was good for views and then brag about whatever new sponsor he’d gotten for himself by riding my coattails. It wasn’t worth it. I only wanted to get home.
“Jesus, Laur, that was stupid to go up there with him alone. What did he do to trick you out of your clothes?”
I could feel him staring at me and pulled the oversized robe closer around myself. I finally turned to answer him so he would get his eyes back on the road. “He didn’t trick me,” I said, offended. “I got wet in the rain.”
He huffed. “Did he chase you out into the rain?”
I refused to admit I had run out because I was having a Ben-induced tantrum, and felt my cheeks getting heated when I thought about how we were about to make up. Then I got madder at Shakes for ruining it. I had wanted him to kiss me, so, so much. Even now, as angry as I was, my nipples tightened and I felt a heavy heat between my thighs, remembering that look in Ben’s eyes. Hyper focused and full of pure need.
“No, I was never in any danger. Just drop it, and don’t go live again tonight. Or at least don’t talk about me and Ben.”
“Ben, is it?”
“Yes, Shakes, he has a name. You think I was calling him an asshole all during dinner?”
“I want to understand why you agreed to have dinner with him in the first place.”
The thing about Shakes was, while he could be a good friend, he could also forget we were just friends and act like he had some claim on me. While I repeatedly told him that we weren’t together and he repeatedly told me he knew that, I didn’t think he really did. It was an uphill battle and I often wondered if it was worth keeping him around. When I was silent for too long, he started in on me again.
“I dropped everything to come and get you tonight, didn’t I?” he whined.
I knew that everything he dropped probably consisted of online gaming while trying to charm donations out of his viewers. Donations that would partly go to the gas I used when I borrowed his car, and buying new gear when I needed it. His title of manager was self-appointed, but he did a good job of managing most of the time.
“Listen,” I said, trying to keep the peace. “I called Maggie and she said I can’t be on the property until after he leaves. He’s staying indefinitely so if we want to go ahead with the jump, I need to get him to change his mind.”
“Fuck him,” Shakes said. “I say we go ahead and do it. It’ll be badass.”
“Some people might think so,” I said primly. “But if Ben decides to make a stink about it, I doubt the sponsors will think trespassing is badass. I want to do this right, so I can actually have a real career, not be some flash in the pan novelty act.”
“Do you think you can get him to change his mind?” he asked. I was grateful he was being reasonable about it. “Without sleeping with him, that is?”
Not reasonable. I ground my teeth together. The fact he’d known me as long as he did and would still say something like that both hurt and made me want to punch through the windshield. Or his face. The fact I did actually, maybe, want to sleep with Ben, made it worse.
Oh God, did I want to sleep with Ben? Yes. A little bit. Not so much that I couldn't get over it. I needed to get a good night’s sleep and throw myself into finding a new site first thing tomorrow. Out of sight, out of mind. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt Ben wouldn’t want to see me again after the multiple scenes I’d caused, and it was for the best. Really. It was.
Shakes pulled into my driveway and started to get out. I reached over and grabbed his arm, shaking my head.
“I’m really tired,” I said. “Go home and finish your game.”
“I can stream from your living room,” he said with a shrug, completely oblivious, as usual.
