She shot me a sly, sideways glance. “You should be the one getting photographed. Too bad those paparazzi in Mexico didn’t catch your abs—you’d be the internet’s new thirst trap girlfriend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t start.”
“That washboard will come in handy if we ever get stranded on an island and I need to do laundry.”
I laughed but the smile didn’t quite stick.
Eva’s expression softened. “Are yousureyou don’t want to come with me?”
I already felt like the doting partner who held their girl’s purse on the red carpet. I didn’t need to follow her around the globe like some pocket lesbian.
“I thought the whole reason for being in Chicago was to be together,” she pointed out.
“When you’re in Chicago,” I said carefully, “we can be together.”
Eva frowned. “That’s not fair, Lex. It feels like I’m being punished for saying yes to this opportunity.”
Guilt twisted low in my gut. “I’m not punishing you,” I insisted. “I want you to do it.”
“Then why not come with me?”
I exhaled slowly, searching for the right words. “Because it’s your thing, Eva. Not mine.”
She tilted her head. “What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t want to be the girlfriend on the sidelines while you’re out there doing your thing in front of a hundred cameras. I don’t want to sit in the makeup trailer or stand behind the photographer, holding your purse. That’s not who I am.”
“I didn’t ask you to hold my purse,” she said quietly.
“I know,” I said, softening. “But it’s how it would feel. Like I’m just … there. And I don’t want to be just there.”
Eva looked down at her drink, tracing the rim with her finger. She bit down on her lower lip, but she didn’t argue back.
“I love what you’re doing,” I added. “Truly. I think it’s badass. But this part of your career is yours. And I want you to have it without worrying about where I fit.”
She gave a small nod, still not looking up. “That makes sense,” she murmured. “I just … I guess selfishly, I wanted you close.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto my face. “Wow. Obsessed much?”
Her eyes finally met mine, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips. “Maybe a little.”
I reached across the table, taking her hand in mine, and gently squeezed. “Good. That makes two of us.”
Chapter
Six
[1 image]
The text came early that morning. It was an hour ahead in Florida, but I’d been up for a few hours, just scrolling through my phone in bed, with no real reason to start my day yet.
I tapped the text message open and blinked at the sudden rush of light and legs.
Eva was standing on a dock somewhere that looked like it belonged on a screensaver. The water behind her was impossibly blue. She wore a cream one-piece bathing suit that left very little to the imagination, her twists swept over one shoulder, lips glossed, collarbones gleaming in the sun. She was posing—hand on her hip, head tilted just so—but the look on her face was all confidence and calm.
Another message appeared beneath the image.
Don’t scroll too fast. I wore this one for you.
