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I take the gum. But not for kissing. For post-panic breath. My dry mouth tastes gross.
The volunteer closest to the rope unhooks the clasp and frees the fans. The whispers amp. They want to know what’s going on.
Gabriel scoots his chair until it bumps mine, tossing his arm around my shoulder. “Sorry I made you skip dinner, baby.” His voice carries down the line as he covers for me again.
For the next two hours that’s all he does. His cheesy lines gone, his gargantuan ego undercover, he’s sweet and kind and nice and way too Prince Charming. A whispered, “you’ve got this,” when people press in and my lungs empty. A protective arm around my shoulder when a middle-aged guy shares his room number. A distraction when Donna’s stare burns a hole through my head.
I focus on looking like I want to be here, dying a little each time I depend on Gabriel to run interference. I shouldn’t want to be rescued. I shouldn’tneedto be rescued. But having someone at my side, that part feels... nice.
As the clock ticks toward 8:30, my public smile falls, my autographing fingers cramp, and Gabriel runs out of posters. Moving on to signing keycards, he surprises me with a no-skin rule that makes a sickening number of girls pouty.
My last book goes to a sorority sister on steroids. Stuffed into an A&M crop tank and a pair of skinny jeans, she leans over Gabriel’s side of the table and blindly pushesHauntedtoward me.
The yellow note on top of my book readsBrittaniwith a heart for a dot over each “i.” I don’t even try to resurrect my smile. She’s too busy sliding her eyes over him like they’re hands to notice.
That sharp spasm in my chest when I saw Short Blonde One’s text clusters. Because somewhere in the last two hours, I’ve moved past the walls I put to keep Gabriel out and let Gabe in. I scrawl my name on my book and slam the cover.
She gives him a confident, come-get-me look. Why wouldn’t she be confident working a pair of boobs that would boost my dress from blah to bling.
“Jessica.” Finally turning to me, she wets her perfect pink lips. “I’m not really a reader.”
Surprise. Surprise.
“But there’s something I’m dying to find out.” She makes a throaty purr. “What’s it like to do a werewolf?”
chapter 14
Gabe
“Have an answer for everything.”
~ Meredith Morgan
(played by the award-winning Meredith Wade)
Raising Ryder: Episode39
What’s it like to do a werewolf?At fan events, my costar fields raunchy werewolf questions all the time, but believe it or not this is a first for me. Kim’s three standard answers range from PG to R.
Puppies give good cuddle.
Bestiality’s illegal.
Fur isn’t my fetish.
Don’t see any of her lines doing it for me. Or for Jess, who’s turning into a marble statue next to me. I stand to put space between me and the girl in the college shirt, who’s advertising more than her school.
Interpreting the move as an invitation, she steps around the table. “Gabriel.” She breathes my name like I’ve let her in on some secret celebrity gossip and parks her fingers on my abs. Holding up her keycard, she offers herself like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
A buffet that might’ve been on my menu a few weeks ago. But not tonight. Not when Escalator Girl and I are starting to jell. “Jess and I—”
“Are done here.” Jess shoves out of her chair and takes off without giving me a chance to finish.
And damn if I wasn’t doing the right thing.
Breaking my fans-come-first code, I abandon the boob buffet and chase after Jess in what’s becoming an ego-bashing habit. Jogging down the hall, I take the stairs over weaving through the crowd waiting for the elevator, tapping out a clumsy text:
Me:Its gqbe.Wher r u?
