“I spoke with your mom, and she told me to stick to my guns. They can’t insist on it because it wasn’t part of the contract. She gave me some good advice.”
“I’m glad you have her. Even with what I know of the industry, it seems especially crazy right now.” The public interest in celebrities is extreme. They want to know every aspect of their personal lives, and privacy is a rare commodity. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about what that means for Reeve and me. I’m a private person, and I deplore the thought of anyone delving into my life just because I’m Reeve’s girlfriend, but my parents have warned me it’s going to happen.
He removes his fingers from my hair, glancing at the roses as he speaks. “Bianca wants me to hire my own publicist. She says things are going to get insane pretty fast.”
“I’d say the six million new followers you have on Insta and TikTok already attest to that fact. And that’s before you’ve even filmed this movie.”
“I know.” Sighing, he stares up at the darkening sky. “The level of interest is scaring me a little, to be honest.”
I place my palm on his chest and peer into his eyes. “In what way? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I’ve always wanted to act. To perfect my art and be the best performer I can be. All this interest in me, in my personal life and my appearance, concerns me. I don’t want that to overshadow my work, you know?”
I nod, because I do. We’ve already had a few paparazzi following us around, and I know the level of interest is going to explode in the coming months. It’s not that either of us is unfamiliar with this aspect of the business. Our parents are famous, and there are always asshole photographers following us around on family outings; however, it’s rare for paps to take more than a passing interest in us when we are out alone.
Until now.
I hadn’t properly considered what Reeve’s blossoming career and notoriety would do for me, and it’s only adding to the anxiety I feel knowing he is this close to leaving for three months. “I guess it will just take some adjustment,” I say, pushing my own worries aside to reassure him. “It’s part and parcel of the life of an actor. You’re young, hot, and talented as fuck. Of course, there will be media interest and attention from fans.”
“At least I have you to keep me grounded.” He reels me into his body.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if you start behaving like a dick with a swollen head.” I run my fingers along his chest and stomach, tracing the dips and curves of his abs through his thin shirt. Reeve has been working out like crazy these past few months, and he has massively transformed his body. His arms and shoulders are even broader now, and his six-pack almost looks painted on it’s that perfect.
“I’m going to miss you so fucking much.” Reaching out, he cuts the stem on a rose.
“Pfft.” I stand on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his. “You’ll be having too much fun living the dream to miss me. Meanwhile, I’ll be stuck with boring classes, annoying teachers, and Nate McAndrews irritating the shit out of me every second of every day.” The guy has not let up about Saffron, and I seriously want to rip out his vocal cords so he can no longer speak.
Reeve hands me the rose, and I lift it to my nose, closing my eyes and inhaling the familiar spicy aroma.
“I don’t know how Alex puts up with that idiot,” he says, as I blink my eyes open. “He is seriously getting on my last nerve.” A muscle ticks in his jaw.
“I don’t want to talk about Nate.” I slide my free hand between our bodies, stroking my fingers along the length of his cock through his jeans, loving how quickly he hardens underneath my touch. “We have much better things to do with our time, right?”
Reeve grabs my hand, pulling me back along the path. “I like the way you think.” He shoots me a sexy grin, and his eyes flare with need as we race toward the house and the privacy of my bedroom.
6
“Come here, baby,” Reeve says, opening his arms, as I hastily swipe at the silent tears streaming down my face. “Please don’t cry. It’s killing me.”
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, crawling into his lap in the back seat of the car. “I swore I wasn’t going to cry, but my tear ducts obviously didn’t get the memo.”
“It’s only three months, not forever. I’ll be home for prom before you know it.”