Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Miller stiffens beside me and goes to get out of his seat—presumably to go for Bell—but I hold him back. I want to know what kinda shit this guy is going to say first, and I won’t let Miller get into trouble for me.
“You’re dating that Huntington guy, right?” Bell asks.
Fuck, it’s even worse than I thought. I was prepared to answer questions about being gay. But Noah? It hurts to even think about him, yet we still have to pretend to be together for the public’s sake.
I take a large gulp of my beer to wet my dry mouth. “Yeah.”
Now I wait for the real questions. How does it work? Who does who? Who’s the girl in the relationship?
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
“Is his father a real douche? Like, isn’t he supposedly the next president or whatever?”
I’m too young to have a heart attack, but Bell’s determined to keep me on my toes.
I glance around the table wondering if this is actually happening and realize all eyes are on me. They’re all waiting for me to answer.
I clear my throat. “Noah Huntington the Second is a very compassionate man who I respect and admire. He’s going to make a great president.”
No one reacts, and I guess they can all see through my bullshit.
“Day-um,” Bell says. “They got you trained good.”
I crack a smile. “Oh, and he’s also the biggest douche I’ve ever met.”
“I knew it,” Bell says and slaps the table, while everyone laughs.
I hope that comment doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass, but more than that, I wish it didn’t remind me of Noah’s and my goodbye.
Apparently since I left, Jet hasn’t seen much of him. He’s either in his room or out. Whatever that means. It’s not like I get a say in where he goes or what … or who he does.
God, he better not be sleeping with anyone. I’d like to say it’s because publicity-wise, he’s still supposed to be with me, but I know that’s bullshit. I couldn’t care less what the press says about us anymore. I don’t want him to fuck anyone else because he’s mine.
Gah! He’s not mine. Not anymore. He never was.
Miller leans in close to me. “You okay? You spaced out for a second.”
I lift my beer. “I’m going to need something stronger.”
“In that case, I’ll be right back.”
The club starts to get busy, the dim lights turn completely off, and then harsh neon lights come on, basking the club in a seedy ambiance that I’m more used to.
Miller waits in a long line at the bar, so I take the opportunity to hit the head while I wait for my next drink. It’s probably paranoia, but when I stand, I swear half the guys at the table watch me as I leave.
Tonight is going better than expected, but something still doesn’t sit right with me. Sometimes paranoia is warranted.
Especially when I finish at the urinal and turn to find Jenkins standing by the door.
I try to remain stoic as I wash my hands and not give away that my heart pounds in my chest. “You know, following the gay guy into the bathroom isn’t going to do wonders for your rep.”
Deep breaths. If it comes down to it, let him swing first. Defend yourself but don’t fight.
I let out a grunt of frustration. I haven’t had to think like this since I started going to gay bars scoping for a hookup. I had to be prepared in case someone recognized me or if I came across those horror stories where closet cases fuck you and then fuck you up because of their own issues. Luckily, I was never in any of those situations, but I was prepared all the same.
Jenkins shifts from one foot to the other. “I just wanted to say … I mean … I’m giving you a friendly warning.”
Friendly warning. Pfft. Right.
“Aw shit, that came out way less than friendly.” His hands rise in surrender. “I’m cool. My cousin is gay, and we went to high school together. I’m not the one with an issue, but I’ve seen a lot of ugly shit happen, and I don’t want that for you. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
“If you’re trying to reassure me any, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it.”
“Sorry.”
“So, there are guys on the team with an issue. Got it. It’s expected.” It sucks, but I’m not surprised. “And let me guess—they’re all the ones who eyed me as I left the table to come in here.”
“They’re not going to do anything. We all got a phone call about you when they were trying to recruit you. We were told if you signed, and we did anything, it’d be our asses on the line, not yours. But I thought you’d like a heads-up on who to avoid.”