“‘Music of the Night.’”
“Damn it!” I stomped.
“Hey, hey.” He chuckled. “There’s more time for that later, don’t worry. It’s not like you have to get drunk for me to sing to you.”
“Really?” I perked up, giving myself away completely, but not really caring since he’d probably seen me at my worst.
“Really.” He took two steps, then three, then pressed me back against the counter. “Also, two glasses.”
“Huh?”
“Of wine.” He nodded. “Then I’m cutting you off, because this”—he kissed me softly—“is happening, and I want you to feel me when I kiss you, when I fill you. That a problem?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Good.” He kissed me again. “Now do something with that hair, it’s freaking me out.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s growing.” Reid pointed with his coffee. I huffed and took a look in the mirror; the brown edges were slowly starting to puff up by my ears. How? Seriously? “Also, I have eggs and Advil waiting for you.” He turned to walk out of the bathroom.
“Hey, Reid?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not pretend anymore . . . is it?”
“It hasn’t been pretend for a while, Jordan.”
“But.” I gulped. “The media and—”
“Screw the media.” He shrugged. “This is about us.”
“I trust you.” I swallowed more coffee, needing the distraction. It burned all the way down my throat as I choked out, “I trust this.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Jordan, I would never hurt you.”
With that he walked off and I was left praying what he said was true. Because I wasn’t so sure I would recover from the type of heartbreak Reid Emory would leave me with. If he left, if he hurt me.
He was the type of guy you compared every other guy to.
There was no going up.
There was no getting better.
Only worse.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
JORDAN
I had scheduled two appearances Saturday, both of which would have people speculating about a possible wedding.
Granted, we weren’t going to take it as far as to leak a picture of us at a chapel, but I figured if people saw us shopping together, they’d get the idea. It helped that the few places we visited were all draped in wedding paraphernalia. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, which was what I was hoping for. We could dupe everyone by simply being in the right place at the right time.
Our dinner that night was even supposed to resemble a rehearsal dinner. It was a private party at the Border Grill, which ended up being more like a loud fiesta where Max made Reid wear a sombrero.
Every time Reid tried to take it off, Max shouted, “Ohana!” Somehow the word had developed new definitions and it now just meant what Max says goes.
I tried to choke down my fajita, but it was useless. I was so nervous about my night with Reid that I couldn’t even focus on the fact that his Twitter following had more than tripled since our first night out when he’d serenaded me at the restaurant back in New York.
Ren sent me a text saying that Reid’s team had been so pleased with his PR that they had a few more actors they were sending our way.
Which meant more money for Ren.
And most likely a promotion for me.
It’s not that I wasn’t happy, I was elated, but everything was going too well. And that freaked me out.
Because when things were that good, something had to hit the fan, right?
Max stood at his end of the table. “Shall we make toasts to the happy couple?”
Colt chuckled. “It’s not really a wedding, so—”
“To my brother from another mother, Reid.” He sighed happily. “Because let’s just clear the air. Ain’t no way we both came from the same person.”
“Hear, hear!” Reid lifted his glass.
“I love you, Reid. I think we both know how epic my toasts can be. But I’ll just say this. I’m so happy you’ve finally found your crab.” Max grinned at me. “Yes, he told me the story. Don’t be ashamed, Sebastian. Under the sea is better . . . it’s wetter, take it from me.”
I groaned. “Please stop singing.”
“Anyway.” Max lifted his glass higher. “To the happy couple. Don’t have kids first.”
“Wait, what?” Reid asked.
Max shrugged. “Let me be first, bro. I gave up sex for you and Jezebel, so the least you can do is let me show Father our firstborn.”
I kicked Reid under the table.
“Fine,” he spat, and he narrowed his eyes at me while rubbing his shin.
“I, too, would like to say some words.” Jason stood. “You know, considering the last wedding I was at was my own and I wasn’t able to actually make a toast. Then again, I was blind in one eye, intoxicated, and marrying a vampire—”