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We’re passing Central Park, so that means we’re close to home.
“What do you mean?”
“Being friends,” I sigh.
Silence.
No harsh breathing, no movement. Just more silence as he’s still as a statue.
Dealing with him is like pulling teeth without any anesthesia.
“Friends don’t shut their friends out, Jasper,” I whisper.
More silence.
He will never open up to me. He doesn’t spare me a glance, as if he’s thinking hard about what I said. His expression is blank, and I can feel him shutting down.
“We’re not friends, you’re my business partner. I provide for you so you can get in good graces with your mother, and you’re helping me get my uncle’s company.” His words sting, cutting deep like a knife.
I don’t know why I’m hurt by his words. I knew it was a business transaction. But the way he said it was so cold and heartless. I’m trying so hard to put on a poker face.
What was the point in him rejecting Quinn’s father’s business deal in my honor? “Why did you fire Quinn’s father if I’m nothing more to you than a business deal?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t like to see you hurt.”
Michael pulls up to the garage, and I don’t want to be anywhere near Jasper at this moment.
Confusion burns beneath my skin like hot lava. I don’t want Jasper to see my face. His behavior gives me whiplash and when he says stuff like that, it makes me think he actually cares about me.
“Please don’t say you don’t want to see me hurt, because it gives me false hope that you care about me, and we both can’t afford for me to believe that,” I say before I head inside the building.
I need to keep my distance from him or I’ll get caught up in his web, and he’ll eat me like a spider.
Poppy
Two weeks have passed since I decided to keep my distance from Jasper. I ignore him at work, at home too. Jasper hasn’t said much to me since the night at the club. He proposed to me on Wednesday on a fancy yacht with rose petals on the floor, surrounded by flowers. Pictures were taken by professional photographers and uploaded on every social media site. Bloggers ate those photos up like a kid in a candy shop. I received offers for free food and beauty products, and doors were open for me for interviews about my life. A few top-name modeling companies even reached out to me to be on the front of their magazines.
We have a photo shoot at one of Jasper’s mansions, in the gigantic master bedroom. I’m not feeling this shit, not one bit. My makeup is caked on my face and it feels heavy. Jasper’s hands are around my waist, and he’s leaning into my neck, breathing me in. I want him to touch my body, but then again, I don’t. My hormones go haywire around him.
“Poppy, you’re a little stiff, can you relax your shoulders?” the photographer, whose name is Ava, says.
She’s been on my case about the way I pose, how stiff I am. If models have to go through this every time, I would lose my mind if I were one. Ava is a pretty woman with a slender frame, her blonde hair in beach waves. She used to be a supermodel back in her younger days.
I’m trying my best but it isn’t working.
“Can we take a five-minute break?” I ask.
Ava nods and frustration clouds her face. I lie on the comfy bed and let out an exhale.Risquémagazine wanted our shots to be in a bedroom because his publicist said it makes it look more intimate and people would buy into the illusion of our love story.
We have so much stuff to do today, another photo shoot with a bridal magazine, a runway show tonight, and dinner with bank owner Gunner Underwood and his wife Gia.
Dating a billionaire can be so exhausting. I knew my life was going to change the minute I agreed to this, but goddamn, it can be overwhelming. This life might be too busy for me to keep up.
Jasper sits next to me, causing my shoulders to stiffen and a tingle snakes up my spine. I scoot away from him to put some distance between us.
“Are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment?” he asks, annoyance lacing his tone. He trails a finger across my cheek, then his eyes veer to my see-through bra before they drop down to my panties. Jasper wears a red tie around his shoulders and is in a pair of silk boxers with the words, “Finally engaged.” I try to keep from staring at his six-pack.
Both of our outfits are from the upcoming Risqué collection.
