Page 144 of Mr. Wicked

“Have you seen today’s membership numbers?” Easton asked me while I held the tumbler of vodka close to my lips, trying to ignore the notifications that were coming through my phone, causing it to vibrate in my pocket every few seconds.

If I weren’t worried my dad was going to reach out sometime within the next hour, I would have turned the motherfucker to silent.

I leaned my back against the corner of the bar and replied, “I took a peek this morning.”

I drained the rest of my drink and called over one of the waitresses who had been hovering near our group, assuming Sloane had given her that order when my friends and I had come in. I pointed at my glass and Easton’s, letting her know we were ready for another round.

“Dude, we’ve regained eighty-nine percent of the members of the marriage arm. The hook-up arm is five percent over objective, and the single-parent arm is three percent over.”

I pulled my phone out when a double vibration came through, thinking it was a phone call.

But it wasn’t.

Just an explosion of alerts that came in so fast, my phone couldn’t keep up.

“Look at this shit.” I pointed my screen in Easton’s direction. “Two hundred and eleven notifications from Instagram. All within the last twenty minutes.” I scrolled through them so he could see what I was talking about. “First, our joint engagement post that blew the fuck up. Then, the goddamn Celebrity Alert that went out, gaining me even more eyes. Now Hooked is running ads with the pictures from our office photo shoot and that’s igniting a storm. I feel like my fucking face is everywhere.” I pulled up my profile to show him that my account was now verified and placed my thumb next to my followers. “Do you see that number? I’ve gained almost half a million in the last two weeks.” I slipped my phone into my pocket. “Make it stop, man.”

“Jesus.”

I gripped the back of my neck, the pain starting there and shooting straight into my head. “That’s half a million more than I want.” I chomped on some ice. “I don’t need this level of attention. I don’t fucking want it.” I squeezed and rubbed. “I get that Jovana needs it for her business, but not me.”

“Why don’t we focus on all the good that’s come out of this?”

I took another mouthful of ice. “And that is?”

“Our business is on fire. We’re making a shit ton of money. And you’re happy as hell.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, shaking me. “In fact, you’re happier than I’ve ever seen you.” He paused. “You’re not going to deny that, are you?”

“Fuck no. I am happy. I’ll give you that.” I exhaled. Twice. “But this is a lot. It’s a lot without all the media and attention. It’s insanity with it.”

“Hang tight. After the wedding, it’ll all die down a little.”

As he released me, I glanced toward the bar, where Jovana and Drake were standing next to Sloane. The three of them were smiling as they chatted it up with Nate.

As of last week, Sloane had bought the bar from him, and Nate had popped in this evening to celebrate with us.

I shifted my attention back to Easton. “Once she’s my wife, it’s not going to die down at all because everyone will be on baby watch. You know that’s why they’re going to think we got married so fast.”

“Maybe.” Easton shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“Come on, man. That’s how it works—they need to justify in their heads why a couple like us would do something so quickly, and a baby is the only thing that makes sense.”

“So have her wear belly shirts in her posts so there’s zero speculation.”

“And allow them to see even more of her body? When she already shows them too much?” I lifted my hand from my neck, now holding the top of my head. “Nah. She’ll wear belly shirts for me—not them. Fuck.”

“Sounds like someone’s in a mood,” I heard.

I turned, seeing that the speaker had been Holden, but he wasn’t alone.

My father was standing next to him.

“Look who I found wandering the sidewalk outside,” Holden said, referring to my dad.

I man-hugged my best friend while Easton shook hands with my father, and then I embraced my old man. “Glad you could make it, Pops.”

“And miss out on the chance of finally meeting Jovana?” My dad smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it, kid.”

The waitress returned with our drinks, and Holden and my father placed their orders. That was when I glanced toward Jovana again, realizing her eyes were already on me.

---