She shrugged. "Yeah, well…"
"And crazy."
"Yeah, but he's so luscious." She blew out a long, shaky breath. "And the way he swings that sword…"
"Youdoknow that's just in the movies, right?"
"Yeah, but I'm just saying." She leaned forward. "Haven't you ever wanted to do it with a movie star?"
"No."
She smiled. "Liar. We sawSwordplaytogether, remember?"
Ididremember.Swordplaywas the second movie in the trilogy that had made Flynn famous. Even though money was tight, Becka and I had splurged on a matinee with popcornandcandy. "Yeah, so?"
"So I saw the way you were looking at him, I mean on the screen."
I knew what she meant. The sad thing was, I'd always had a soft spot for him, not Flynn the movie star, butJohn, the guy who'd loaned me his coat all those years ago.
Although the encounter had brought us nothing but misery, I still remembered how chivalrous he'd been.
And he'd paid dearly for it, too.
I hated that.
In reply to Becka's comment, all I said was, "Yeah, well, I was looking at his character, Prince Marcus, not him."
Becka gave me a look that suggested she knew better. "Let's assume I believe that, you never said…who's everyone?"
"What do you mean?"
"You said your job is to keep everyone off his back. But you never said who 'everyone' was."
"Actually, I don't know," I admitted. "Mostly Felicity, I guess."
"But I thought they were getting engaged."
I shook my head. "The way Flynn talks, they're not even together anymore."
"Why not?"
"I don’t know. He didn't say." I paused. "But it had to be pretty awful. You should've seen the look he gave me when I mentioned her name."
"That bad?"
I nodded. "Oh yeah. He might hatehereven more than he hates me."
"Oh come on," Becka said. "He can't hate you. You explained everything, right?" She smiled. "And even apologized, too."
I loved Becka. Really, I did. But sometimes, she could be so hopelessly naïve. Yes, I'd tracked down Flynn as soon as I'd had the freedom to do so. Unfortunately, he didn't want my apology – or an explanation.
At the time, he'd been out of juvie for just a few weeks, and I'd been desperate to see him in spite of the fact that there was nothing I could do to help – other than grovel for his forgiveness, that is.
I still recalled tracking him down at some gas station three towns over. I'd waited until closing and then nabbed him by surprise in the parking lot. Funny to think, it was similar to what he'd done to me last night.
Was that why he'd done it?
To show how perfectly we'd switched places?
At the gas station, Flynn not only had refused to accept my apology, he'd also told me to get lost and run back to – in his words – my "rich daddy."
What a joke.
Gordon wasn't my dad. And his money had brought me nothing but grief.
Still, as far as the apology, I'd tried.That was something, right?
Apparently not.
I knew this because several days later, I had further proof that Flynn still hated me, even after all these years.
