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“Nervous?”
I giggle—for what reason, I don’t know. “Yeah, a bit.”
He reaches for my chin, tipping it up to see me. “I left my handkerchief by my bed, but I can go get a towel if need be.”
Oh sweet lord, my face burns within seconds. “Not cute.”
He chuckles loudly. “You’re right,” he says, sweeping his thumb along my chin. “But you sure are.” He leans in, his lips so close I could devour them if I weren’t holding back. “Especially after you’re…nervous.”
I smack his hand away, really needing him not to touch me before I start climbing him like a tree. “No one is around. Stop flirting.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t care who’s around and who’s not.”
Oh, his words warm me everywhere. “To sell this, people have to be around. Don’t waste your good stuff on just me.”
His lids fall a bit. “I’m not wasting a damn thing, my beauty. I am making sure you know you’ve got my attention.”
I forcefully make myself ignore his hollow words. They’re all for show. They have to be. I roll my eyes to keep from swooning. “Such an attention whore.”
“Attention whore?” he laughs, and then his laughter dies off as his eyes meet mine. Showing all his teeth, he gives me the most devastating, almost feral grin I’ve ever seen in my life. Thinking isn’t even possible at this point, and the heat that’s been gathering in my belly promptly explodes as he leans toward me once more. Unable to move, I just gaze into his eyes. “For you and only you.”
Oh, come the hell on!
By the grace of God, I don’t have to respond because our names are called. I fully expect him to walk away to give me a second, but that would mean that my carefully thought-out plan would go accordingly. Oh, I forgot that Benson is unscriptable. No kidding.
He holds out the crook of his arm and looks down at me expectantly. I feel everyone watching, and I know I have no choice but to take it, so I do. Heat radiates up my arm, I feel pinpricks everywhere, and I genuinely don’t understand what I’m doing. While my heart goes insane screaming for him, my brain reminds me this is all for show. As we walk toward the photo spot, I’m unsure if my brain and heart will ever get on the same page—or if I’ll actually survive these next six months. All I can think about is how much I enjoy the way he looks at me.
And how stupid I feel, wishing this were real.
Chapter Twenty-One
Benson
Me: Hey, great post. I look really good when you film me, don’t I? Thanks for coming last night. Was hoping to see you after the game. You guys are away this weekend? Can we get together tomorrow? Coffee? No one will bother you.
It takes my Houdini two hours to answer me back.
Two. Fucking. Miserable. Hours.
Cameron: Hey, thanks! I thought the lightning edit was badass, and yeah, you’re a great subject.
Cameron: Yeah, we are away.
Cameron: Um, probably not tomorrow, maybe next week.
My molars grind as I pace my apartment. Quinn is acting as if he isn’t watching and laughing at me, but I know he is. He thinks it’s rather hilarious that Cameron is only talking to me when I text her, and that she is direct and to the point. That she hasn’t met up with me at either of the two games I had this week. She comes wearing my jersey, looking every bit my doting girlfriend, but she isn’t doing any of the doting. Quinn has made it known that the fact that she isn’t falling all over me pleases him to no end.
Mainly because I am going crazy.
I don’t know what is going on. I thought we had rekindled the fire with the last two interactions, but I could tell she was being standoffish at the Beauty and the Bull shoot at first. Once I kissed her cheek, though, she relaxed, and we fell into the dance that is easy for us. We hold hands, she hugs me, she leans into me, and I can’t stop touching her. I had her on my back as we laughed, running through the compound for B-roll that Callie shot for us. It was us being us, and ahfuckme, I loved it.
But now, she’d thrown up a fucking wall, and she’s hiding behind it.
I’m over it.
Especially when the first shots of the Beauty and the Bull campaign dropped this morning. It was just Cameron and me, her looking spectacular in a flashy pose, her hip cocked to the side while I stood beside her, side-eyeing her with a smug grin on my face. The caption was the Beauty and the Bull. Buy one ticket, get the other free. Everyone was buzzing in the comments. Even Momma Adler commented she might need to buy a ticket just to see the gymnastics team. It was sweet, but it didn’t ease my annoyance over Cameron’s behavior.
