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Plastered over the closest elevator door is a giant poster of Jess’s book and her headshot. “Already have one.” I push the up button.
Like he’s Skyping my Jess fantasies, he says, “Don’t drag that girl into your issues.”
Too late. “I got it. Don’t worry.” I end the call, mute my phone, and stare at the curve of Jess’s red mouth.
The photographer positioned her against a brick wall, arms and ankles crossed. Her hair falls in wild brown waves around her face. Sunglasses hide her green eyes. She’s wearing a distressed black leather jacket, ripped jeans, biker boots, and a smile that transforms her face.
This is not the girl who tripped into my arms in the lobby. Not the girl I shocked with a kiss. Not the girl who floundered at the beginning of the panel.Thisis the girl who just threw me shade. This is the girl I need to know.
Now I just need to convince her to play Gabriel Wade’s girlfriend for the week.
chapter 7
Jess
I’ve never tripped in my high-heeled boots, and it would happen in front of T! But it was totally worth it when he picked up my books and said I had pretty eyes!!!I tried so hard to hang onto his crooked smile during my parents’ nightly screaming match. But even after I locked myself in my room and blasted the radio, I couldn’t get their words out of my head. I hate being here.
~ from the diary of Elizabeth Sara Thorne(age16)
The second the panel ends, I escape to my room, change into black yoga pants and a racerback tank, and pitch my heels into the toilet, savoring every second of theirclank,clank, slosh. Those sadistic shoes derailed my day. Twice.
I should’ve read the bad karma leaves in the tea tragedy and retreated before I landed on Gabriel Wade’s lips, choked in front of the reporter set to coverHaunted’s release, and bombed the panel. Day one, and I’m already making history at this conference. Humiliation history.
Sliding Vi’s Zebra bra down the counter, I sort through her cosmetic store until I find the makeup wipes she confiscated this morning. Avoiding the scar on my jaw in the mirror, I clean my face, then tug my hair into a messy ponytail and head out to pick up the pile of reject outfits I left on the bed.
“Got you a present.” Vi’s voice whips me around in a cardiac moment. Lounging in the cushioned chair between my bed and the window, she holds up the current issue ofTeen Hottie.
Gabriel Wade is on the cover. Shirtless.
I don’t look.
I try not to look.
Okay. I’m looking. But it doesn’t count because I wish I wasn’t.
Wearing only a pair of low-slung khakis—the waistband of his striped boxers peeking out—he’s holding a mini-hulk statue engraved with his name andTV’s Sexiest Beast.
The flush that hits me burns hotter than a Dallas heat wave. “They have an award for Sexiest Beast? Sure that’s not for his hulking ego?”
“You tell me.” She waves the magazine.
I’d rather not. I snatch my favorite pair ofHello Kittysocks from my suitcase, sink onto a clothes-free corner of my mattress, and concentrate on pulling them on.
Vi puts on her reading glasses and opens the magazine. “Gabriel Alexander Wade grew up onscreen as Ryder Morgan while filming twelve seasons ofRaising Ryder,playing son to real-life mom, Meredith Wade.” She glances up. “She won a ton of Emmys for that.” The pages of the magazine crinkle. “The 6’1’’ teen lycan heartthrob is a salad hater, dog lover, weight-lifter, prefers sand over snow, blondes over brunettes, and boxers over briefs.”
Got that last part from the picture.
“Gabriel currently plays alpha wolf, Jax, who recently lost his full-moon mojo on the wildly popular showThe Pack.” Vi tilts forward so far I’m sure she’ll topple off the chair. “Here’s my theory. After Jax refused to kill his long-lost twin during their challenge for pack leadership, he was cursed by the wolf king and can’t turn anymore. But we won’t find out until the mid-season finale halfway through December. That’s two months away!”
My agent’s forty going on fourteen. “Who watches that show besides you?” Flopping on my stomach, I bury my face in a black skirt.
“The same girls who will buy your books. And their moms. The wolves are hot. Fans hashtag the show eightpack.” She traces a figure eight on my back. “And not because Jax has eight wolves in his pack.”
I groan. “Please stop talking.”
Vi clears her throat. “Sooo... you and Gabriel Wade?” She gushes like a proud parent.
The magazine hits me on the butt. I roll over and kick it to the carpet. Stupid shirtless Gabriel Wade lands cover up to mock me from the floor. “I met him.” That’s all she gets.
