Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
A million scenarios flash before me, none of them good. But what happens is far worse.
Silence.
He pulls away. "They’re going to flip when they see I'm not ready." His face deepens into a massive frown. My heart hammers in my chest. Blood rings in ear.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Okay…" I swallow hard. "You're being weird."
"I am." He admits.
I raise an eyebrow, waiting.
He sighs.
“Okay, so I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to freak out, or worse, not come," he lets out another deep sigh, the dread in his voice obvious. "The photo shoot is with Sabrina.”
I slowly nod, feeling a sting in my eyes without quite knowing why. I mean it's a photoshoot for the movie and she's his co-star. That's pretty normal, right?
Someone yells his name. He clears his throat, realizing he needs to make this fast.
“I guess it was sort of selfish of me to want you here without realizing how uncomfortable it may make you feel," he lowers his voice, "since Sabrina and I are pretending to date and all."
Oh, right.
"I just need you to remember that we're not. And despite what you may have read, you should know that when we did it meant very little." He runs his fingers through his hair. Then he clears his throat three times.
"But..." I prod.
“Fuck, okay." He groans. "We're still living together."
My jaw hits the floor.
Of all the things I was definitely not expecting that.
"I know!" he implores. "I should have said something."
Anger or hurt.
Anger or hurt.
Anger or hurt.
Pick one!
"You think?" My eyes bulge.
Anger.
"Elle-"
"So let me get this straight. You makeout with her on a pretty regular basis and you're living together."
Is this some sort of joke?
I glare.
It's not.
"We have separate bedrooms," he cringes.
"Why tell me now?"
"Because I had been meaning to. Because I knew you both would see each other today. Because I had wanted to ask you to come visit. Because I told her about you and it backfired. I thought her and I were in a better place," he hesitates. "I guess, as it turns out, she isn't willing to break contract."
"Break... contract."
"There are certain terms in it, like exclusivity."
Oh hell no.
"I know this isn't your thing, Asher," I hiss, "but it sounds to me what you're in is called a relationship. A fucked up one but one nonetheless."
"No-"
The door suddenly opens. Mona appears. As usual she ignores my existance. Others soon follow, filtering in and out, fussing over Asher. He's his good boy self, like a little dog he's back in the makeup chair, listening to whatever commands she barks at him.
Well, maybe he's not all there.
I feel his stare on me.
I make sure to look the opposite way.
Everyone is quick to finish, and before I know it he's ushered out the door.
I'm alone.
I sink into the nearest chair and replay whatever the hell just happened.
Fuck this is bad.
I flinch as I think about it. It's as if I'd been slapped.
Slapped by reality.
Slapped with the cold hard truth.
Slapped because I knew better.
Slapped because I chose not to listen.
Slapped because deep down even the Asher I thought I knew was too good to be true.
Stupid fucking hope.
No one can possibly be as perfect and wonderful as he is without a catch. I knew he couldn’t just be into me.
How stupid to think I could tame the playboy.
He tried to warn me too. He even said he was more like Travis than I realized. That makes sense now.
Was that his way of letting me know this was all a game?
Maybe he started to feel bad, taking advantage of me.
Meanwhile I thought I was this special piece to his puzzle that he had yet to reveal, despite not knowing the why.
Why me.
It wasn't because he genuinely liked me. It's because there never was a me.
I was nothing to him.
He’s still living with his girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend, or whoever the fuck she is.
Like it wasn't painful enough to stumble upon pictures of them kissing, I could understand acting - needing to do certain things to create and keep up appearances. But a living situation is totally different, and he hid it! And what the hell is this now, she thought they were still a real couple? An exclusive contract?
Was nothing he said to me true?
Tears drench my face.
What a fucking asshole!
He probably thought insisting we were just friends excused his behavior.
And here I was thinking he was going to surprise me for my birthday, like I actually mattered to him.
I won't be played for a fool.
I dry my eyes and stand.
When I get out there the shoot is underway. I move next to a small group who are also observing. Their eager and star-gazed expressions are the opposite of my hurt and angry one.
The photographer tells Sabrina she’s beautiful. It's the first time I've seen her in person. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, plump lips and high cheekbones. She is. She's the epitome of perfection.