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“Supposedly?”
“I haven’t called her back to find out why. Or even if it’s true.”
“Why?”
I shrug and bury my face back in his chest.
“Ames?”
“I’m—I’m scared,” I finally admit.
“Scared of what?” Apprehension coats his tone, but I’m not sure why. “Do you think Fucker is somehow involved in her calling you? Maybe he’s manipulating it?”
“He’s not that smart,” I scoff, and he barks out a laugh.
“Agreed. If it’s not that, why are you scared to call her back?”
“What if…” I swallow around the lump of nerves lodged in my throat. “What if something else is getting ready to hit the media about me? Something else that Tucker has decided to use to make me look bad?”
“It’s a possibility,” he agrees. “But I guess you won’t know until you call her.”
“You want to call her for me?” I look up, meeting his gaze, and his lips drop to my nose.
“I will if you want me to. But I think you’ll handle it like the boss bitch you are.”
His confidence in me is overwhelming sometimes. So often, I’ll be uncertain, or that voice in my head will tell me to drop acting completely, with or without the part. But when that voice gets too loud, he’s right there to help build me back up. To tell me to keep going.
Just like he has my whole life…the same, but different.
“Maybe,” I say, nibbling on my lip.
“No maybes about it,” he responds. “Now, are we going to watch a movie or not?”
“What movie?” I ask.
“How about an oldie? Feel up to 10 Things?”
“I love you,” I tell him, throwing my arms around his neck. He stiffens, and I realize what I said. “I mean, you know what I mean.”
How many times have I told him I love him? It’s an automatic response. I do love him. But I don’t love love him.
Then why were you so jealous of Evie earlier?
He nods as he looks at me, his face a combination of sadness, resignation, and hope. “I know.”
The way he’s looking at me has the butterflies unfurling in my stomach. I try to ignore the fire that brushes my insides with each flap of their wings and grab the remote. Plopping down on the couch, I wait while he gets the snacks together. The assortment he brings back fills the table, and he sits next to me once he’s unloaded everything and makes a grabby motion for the remote.
“Gimme.”
I giggle but hand it over.
“Why are you so far away?” he asks.
“I’m sitting right next to you, nerd.”
“Too far.” He shakes his head, then wraps his arm around my wrist and yanks me into his lap. “There.”
“You want to watch the movie like this?” I ask, gesturing at us and then at the TV screen.
