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“If you want to make this happen, I think you should.”
Panic makes me break out into a sudden sweat. “And what if she doesn’t agree?”
“I don’t know. This looks like they want her as part of the deal.” Simon’s eyes narrow as he studies me. “Can you make that happen?”
“Absolutely,” I say with a nod, ignoring the knot in my gut.
First, I just need to convince her.
CHAPTER8
SCARLETT
I’m staring at my phone and chewing on my lower lip, trying to come up with the courage to send Ian a text, when my phone lights up with a notification.
A text from Ian. What, he’s reading my mind?
I take this as a sign that we’re meant to be. Of course.
Opening the text, I ignore the nerves making my stomach twist and read his message.
Ian: You’re going out with a boy band member now.
That’s it. That’s all the text says.
I drop the phone on my bed and flop backward on it, my mind racing with possible replies. How can I tell him that kiss meant nothing without making the incident sound bad? I suppose I could tell him the truth.
Or I could try to make Ian jealous by telling him that yes, I’m definitely seeing the former boy band member and my life is fantastic thanks to him.
Sitting up, I grab my phone and start tapping away on the keyboard.
Me: We’re not going out.
I hesitate for only a moment before I send the next text.
Me: Yet.
There’s no response. Ian takes so long I start pacing around the room, chewing on my fingernail as I wait for his text. My palms are literally starting to sweat, and when he finally answers, I grab my phone and open the text immediately.
Ian: I thought you were saving yourself for me.
My heart drops into the pit of my stomach. Does he actually mean that?
Another text appears.
Ian: Kidding.
It’s accompanied by a laughing-face emoji.
An actual growl rises from my throat, and I’m tempted to toss the phone across the room, but I hold my impulses in check.
I decide to be bold. It’s so much easier, doing that sort of thing over text instead of face to face, though it has much more meaning when you tell someone in person.
But screw it. I’ve been chasing after this seemingly clueless guy for the last couple of years of my life, and I’m tired of waiting for him to make a move. Looks like I need to be the one to make something happen.
Me: I mean... I WAS saving myself for you, but you never seemed interested.
I send the text quickly, before I can second-guess myself. I try to swallow past the lump that forms in my throat, but it’s like I can’t. A dull throb starts at my temple while I wait for his response.
