Page 46 of From You to Me

“I hate these events,” Lily muttered while she sipped her white wine.

The band talked animatedly with Mr. Karl and his associates while his daughter fangirled over them. Although all of them were smiling and laughing, I could tell the guys were pretending. It was like they couldn’t wait to get out of here.

“Yeah, it’s so weird. I get what you said about the label milking them.”

“Especially these past two years. Our guys are their biggest artists, so the label says yes to any opportunity to make that extra buck. Mr. Karl is donating a cool five million dollars to host the band in their city just because his daughter is a big fan.”

I gaped at her, my eyes almost falling out of their sockets. “The fuck?”

“I know, right.”

“Lily, don’t let Mr. Karl hear you,” Katy whispered from her seat on the other side of Lily.

“Katy, he can’t possibly hear me. He’s heads deep trying to bore the guys.”

Since the start of the luncheon, Lily has been a buffer between Katy and me. Katy spoke to Lily instead of talking to me directly. It almost felt so high school.

After the most boring luncheon with Mikey complaining the whole time about how he never signed up for all this shit and with Katy assuring him that it would end soon, we headed to the meet and greet.

The guys instantly transformed upon seeing their fans. A genuine smile plastered on their faces while they patiently answered every single one of their questions.

It made sense that they wanted out of the label. If I were in their position, I would have left packing a long time ago. Because it was pretty obvious all they wanted to do was sing and meet their fans.

They were one of the biggest artists in the world and could do anything they wanted at this point. I’d heard rumors that Pacific White was barely hanging because of them and was no longer as famous as they once were.

I soulfully wished that rumor was true and hoped those fuckers ended up in a ditch.

That night, I hit the sack exhausted with an ice pack tied around my knee. And it was only day one. I think I did a pretty okay job today, and if I kept this up, then the next forty-one days would be a breeze.

I moaned as I hit the snooze for the sixth time in a row. It wasn’t even the break of dawn, so why the hell did Jay have to get up so fucking early? I screwed one eye open and got blinded by my phone to peer at the time.

4:31 a.m.

I grumbled into the pillow as I willed my body to wake the fuck up.

I blinked back the sleep as I knocked on his door.

“Jay,” I mumbled sleepily.

A few seconds later, he opened it, looking ready to run a marathon. He wore black basketball shorts and a sports tank, showing off his glorious tattoos. He had a headband tied around his head to keep his hair away. I think the drool in the corner of my lips wasn’t from the remnants of my sleep.

“Good morning, Jay. Your coffee.” I handed him the to-go cup as we headed to the gym downstairs.

Why did I have to go to the gym with him?

Because rule number 4 stated: Be around Mr. Jameson unless otherwise specified.

I think that rule was added just to torment me. As much as I would’ve been overjoyed about that once upon a time, it felt more like a punishment now. It bothered me so much that my spine tingled in his presence every time.

I sank down in the corner with his goody bag next to me while I watched what might have very well been the greatest trial of my life. Because all I wanted to do was grab him off the treadmill and let him fuck the daylights out of me.

I plopped my chin on my fist, gaping at the eagle tattoo on his biceps glistening with sweat. I didn’t know how he had the energy because he was almost sprinting on an incline. About an hour later, he stopped.

I fumbled, getting on my wonky feet. “Your water.” I passed his high-grade water mixed with pink electrolytes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, eyeing me. “Why are you here again?”

All the sleep in my system disappeared in a second. “Am I not supposed to be here?”

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