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Men often pretend to be something they’re not. They act like they’re knights in shining armor until they get the girl, then they turn into raging douchebags. The girl ends up blindsided and heartbroken.‘How could I have ever fallen for a man like that?’All my red flags are right up front. No pretending is necessary.

I am not a knight in shining armor.

I’m not going to sweep anyone off their feet.

I’m a bastard and I fucking know it. Maybe that makes me a horrible person, but at least I’m honest with myself.

Actually, yeah. What are your measurements?

Did you seriously text me just to ask my boob size? That’s pathetic.

Where did I mention boobs? I’m not the one with a dirty mind. It’s a simple question.

What are your measurements?

Why?

Because I want to know. Can you humor me and send them? I promise they’re not for anything creepy. At least not anything a normal person thinks is creepy.

You’re not normal.

Maybe you’re extra creepy and no one’s called you on it before.

Yet she sends me her measurements.

I’m beginning to think I’m wearing her down already.

Maybe she likes me more than she’ll ever admit—even to herself.

Chapter Eighteen

AURORA

Rise

Episode 573

Savannah, Georgia

My nerves are genuinely getting to me today. I feel more nervous than I did my first time on TV. All eyes are going to be on me after the PPV. People will want to hear what I have to say and see what I do next. There’s no room for mistakes and that’s what makes me nervous. If this goes over poorly, I’m definitely not getting that official contract. My stomach is flipping and flopping. I’ve felt like puking since before I even got to the arena.

The sun is high in the sky. The air is thick and humid. I can taste the salt in the air from the nearby ocean as I walk through the parking lot, rolling my bag behind me. A quick flash of my badge to security and I’m backstage, looking around for Jules. I need her. Hopefully, she’s not too busy with Hext; I have no idea what’s going on there and it feels like something I should know but simultaneously something that’s none of my business.

Rounding the corner, I don’t bump into Jules. Theo grins down at me, wearing a crisp cerulean, blue button-up. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his impressive forearms that I’m one hundred percent not admiring. “I’ve been waiting for you, Roo.”

“Have I ever mentioned you give me serial killer vibes? You might want to get those in check.”

He chuckles, and I catch a flash of amusement in his brown eyes. “Funny. Come on. I want to show you something.”

“Circling back to‘serial killer’there,” I say, but despite that, I follow him. I can’t help that a part of me is curious. It’s not like he’s going to try anything backstage with our coworkers around.

Theo leads me to his locker room, which does give off a few red flags. Like an absolute dipshit, I follow him inside. The heavy door slams behind us. It’s a simple room like all backstage rooms generally are. The champ just gets his own. There’s a couch and a table along the wall with a few snacks. Theo’s bags are tossed against the wall, right next to the couch. Around the partition, I’m sure there’s a little bathroom set up, complete with a shower.

“I know tonight we’re only cutting a promo,” he starts as I stand there, crossing my arms over my chest. I nod for him to go on. “And I’m sure you either brought something to wear or you’re going to borrow something from Juliette again.”

How did he know I borrowed something from Jules in the first place? The outfit I brought from home is now in the back of my mind as I worry it won’t hold up to Jules’s sexy ass dress that the internet loved.

Maybe I stayed up way too late after the PPV, scanning social media sites for reactions. Sue me.

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