AllFreeNovel
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I can’t shake what happened with David. Head bent, I lean into the hot spray of the shower. A lot of men have crossed the stage of Meredith Wade’s life, but he’s the only one who never made an exit. What I can’t wrestle out is if he actually had an affair with my mom or if he just wanted to.
I crank off that thought with a twist of the faucet, wrap a towel around my waist, and go in search for something to wear to the signing. Because my show sells fantasy, my contract—and the show’s PR guy—stipulate I show up as Jax atPack-related functions.In two months, I won’t have to deal with Alan or his oppressivePackpromo policies. And doesn’t that just suck.
While I’m good with jeans, band shirts, tennis shoes, and finger-combed hair, Jax is not. Broody frat boy on the outside, vigilante on the inside, he’s a perfect storm of waiting-to-happen violence who gets off on men’s fashion.
I start with a dark green cotton shirt, layer with a white medium weight button-down that’s a little rugged, a lot Italian, and not super comfortable, leaving the first three buttons undone. Khakis, a leather belt, and a pair of Clark’s bring me up to Jax’s fashion standards. I finish with a dab of hair gel, his woodsy cologne, and his yellow-tinged contacts.
Rolling my sleeves, I laugh at the combination of green and white. I’ve subconsciously matched myself with the dress I chose for Jess—the one she probably won’t wear because I picked it. For a girl who can’t scrounge enough lady balls to stand up to Vi, she has no problem shriveling mine.
That I’ve depleted my adjoining-door privileges is a given, so I knock on her hall door.
She answers wearing the dress. Correction, making the dress. Thin, barely-there straps curve over her shoulders, and the top hugs her chest. The fabric loosens beneath the tight band to fall over her hips, clinging just enough to showcase her curves, then flows to the tops of her knees. Like Jess, the dress is a paradox of sweet and sexy. “You look ama—”
“You smell different.” She cuts off my compliment, her eyes widening like she maybe wanted to keep that to herself.
“I smell like Jax. It reminds me I’m notmetonight.”
She stares at me.
“It’s a trick I picked up filmingRyder. Wearing my character’s clothes, changing my hair, listening to his music.” I shrug. “The fans expect Jax. I give them Jax.”
“And you’re fine with that?” She sounds like I shouldn’t be.
“Sure.” I was more than fine bringing Jax to life. Right up untilThe Pack’s writers screwed him over. Now I have no idea what I’m fine with.
“Jax’s eyes are always yellow?” She tilts her head.
“Only when he’s phasing.”
“Phasing...?”
I keep forgetting she doesn’t watch my show. “Into a wolf.”
“Okaaay... then.” Shaking her head, she reaches behind her and grabs my phone, shoes, and hat, then thrusts them toward me like they’re burning her hands. “What I am supposed to do with these?”
Any other girl reallywouldsell them online. It’s cute how she’d rather throw them away. I pocket the phone but leave her holding the rest. “I’ll grab them after.”
“Fine.” She tosses them back into her room. “But after tonight, we’re done. No more PR. No more using my room to get to yours. We’re not together. Even for pretend.” I half expect her to dust off her hands. I’m not quite sure how I managed to piss her off while I was in the shower.
“Okay.” If Vi hasn’t said anything about her plans for the cover model contest, I’m not going to. I’d rather not spend the rest of the evening shivering in Jess’s cold front. And as long as I don’t push her into a public spat, people will go on believing wearetogether.
“I’m not kidding,” she says like she’s peggedokayas my go-to when I want to avoid conflict.
Smart girl. “I know. You wear serious like an outfit.”
Her eyes flash. “We both know the only reason you’re here.”
No way she’s nailed my reason, but I’ll play. “We do?”
“Vi thinks I need a wolf boy to inflate my sales. I don’t.” Pulling her hair over her shoulder, she marches down the hall in a spectacular show of temper I find extremely hot.
“Wolf man. Not boy.” I trail after her with a grin. “Man.”
We don’t talk on the way to the elevator. We don’t talk while we wait for the elevator. We don’t talk when we get on the elevator. Works for me. We’re alone in a small space with four mirrored panels. I’m content to enjoy the hell out of her in that dress.
“Stop staring.” Her eyes catch mine in the mirror.
Going full-on dimple, I smile. “Feel free to stare back.”
