“You mean they are all here for you.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I’m not the one who broke the internet. They wanted me to date you. That’s why we’re here, because the world fell in love with Bree Camden. None of this would be happening if it were anyone else.”
Goodness. When he puts it like that, this whole situation sort of hits differently. I’m not sure I like it. I try to brush off the parts of me that are grabbing on to his words for dear life. My heart feels like vanilla ice cream melting over a hot chocolate brownie at the thought of people wanting me and Nathan together. I want to ring Kelsey up really quick and yell something obnoxious at her like, YOU SNOOZE, YOU LOSE.
The doors to the sound stage open and Nathan’s tall and gangly manager, Tim, steps out looking frantic. Then again, he sort of always looks this way. “Oh, you’re both here! Good.” He looks down at his watch then waves us through the door. “They’re almost finished setting up lighting, so you have just enough time to get into hair and makeup.”
We’re following him down a cold hallway now as he continues to talk a mile a minute. Nathan squeezes my hand.
“I explained to the crew that you’re on an incredibly tight schedule and they have three hours with you tops. Not a minute more because you have practice in the morning. Also, there’s a seared salmon and kale salad dinner for you in the dressing room, Nathan. I’ve already told hair and makeup you have to eat while they’re working on you.”
No dinner for me? See, it’s already happening—I’m seeing how miserable it would be to date Nathan. Everyone will fawn over him and I’ll fade into the shadows. This is good. Keep it up, world.
Tim barely takes a breath before he continues. “The full script is in your dressing rooms, but the gist of it is simple. You two are walking through a restaurant and women are rushing up and writing their names and numbers on Nathan’s shirt. He tugs you into a hallway to escape them, pulls a Tide-to-Go pen from his back pocket, and hands it to you. You guys exchange flirty looks and then Bree erases the names with the wave of her pen—in the style of I Dream of Jeannie.”
Oh man. That’s cheesy, but I can see how fans would eat it up. It’s the perfect nod to my drunken speech. The speech that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
A moment later, Tim drops us at a dressing room that has Nathan’s name on the outside. We’re still holding hands, and I realize I’m clinging to Nathan like he’s a buoy in the middle of the ocean.
“Smile,” Tim says, snapping a quick picture of us with his phone. “I’ll post this to your stories, Nathan.”
The door opens to a cute smiling blonde with a tight top and overflowing cleavage that I admittedly am 100% jealous of.
Tim looks bored, bless him. “Nathan, this is Aubrey. She’ll be doing your hair and makeup.”
“Hey Aubrey,” Nathan says with a grin and a nod that I know is fake but Aubrey clearly eats up because her pores start emitting sunbeams. And really, I get it. He’s so huge and ridiculously hot, and his deep growly voice is intoxicating if you’re into all that kinda stuff, but seriously, Aubrey, pick your heart up off the floor and get to work. He’s mine! Uh, wait, what? No.
He’s fake mine.
Fake fake fake fake fake. Not real. If our relationship was a purse, it would be a Proda and sold to someone out of the trunk of a car.
Aubrey bounces lightly on her feet. She can’t wait to get her hands on Nathan. “If you want to come on in and take a seat, we can get started.” That sparkle in her eye makes me think she’s going to get started on her lap dance rather than hair and makeup, and I consider jutting my foot out and tripping her. Yeah, I’m the jealous type. Poor thing hasn’t even done anything wrong and I’m plotting her demise. I feel like I should apologize to this professional woman for degrading her actions. My inner territorial cavewoman is getting out of control lately, and I need to get a grip.