Page 37 of Siren's Game

"If they make it past the pink glasses stage, I think they'll be fine." I shrug and grin at her. "I haven't seen much of his relationships, but I think when they ended, it was mostly in the beginning. I’ve never seen him as infatuated as he is with your friend, though."

"Good. She deserves it." Kayla hums happily and lifts her head as our food arrives. "God knows she's been through enough shit with her former boyfriends and the media. She deserves her happy end."

I eye her, my eyebrow raised high up my forehead. During my research, I couldn’t help but notice the negative tone media outlets use when it comes to Millie and how little I could actually find out about Kayla’s former relationships in comparison.

Nonetheless, why does she only mention Millie? Doesn’t she deserve a happy end too?

"Why do you think they’re targeting Millie like that?"

"I know why. It’s not much of a speculation." She takes the chopsticks and expertly places them in her hand. Me, not so much. "Our label was not a fan of me being caught in public with my 'friends,'" she emphasizes the word with air quotes, "so they diverted the media to Millie. They deemed her being pictured in relationships to be better for our image than me being pictured with hook-ups. And the truth is, they don't give a damn about the cyberbullying they're subjecting her to, as long as my fuck buddies are not on the news."

"So that's why you don't want to involve your management?"

"Exactly." She exhales a deep sigh. "I don't trust them. Overall, I’m sure Naroa is a good egg and does a lot for us behind the scenes, but at this point, it’s just not enough. If I could and Millie came along, I would leave Starlet Sounds in a heartbeat." She picks at her bowl and then maneuvers a few long noodles to her mouth. It's not a glorious sight, but the sight of her slurping them is downright adorable.

Adorable. There it is again.

I try to follow suit, but the noodles slide off my chopsticks whenever I try.

"You know they’ve got forks over there, right?" She nods toward the far end of our table and I shake my head.

"Thanks, but I'm very determined to make this happen." I pick them up again but with the same result. “My mom didn’t raise a quitter.”

She says something under her breath that I can’t quite make out.

"You need to hold them a bit differently. May I?"

I take the chopsticks out of the bowl and offer her my hand. She twists my fingers along the sticks until she a satisfied hum leaves her throat.

"There. Try again. Only move the upper stick. How the hell did you eat ramen in Tokyo and can’t hold chopsticks?"

"Holy fuck, it works," I say, ignoring that last remark as I pick up half an egg with her technique. It’s way easier than what I attempted before. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We continue our meal in silence. It's a nice silence, though. Like in the car. For once, there is no bickering, no sarcastic use of nicknames, only light conversation and food until we're both finished and I pull out my wallet to hand the waiter my card.

"I could pay for myself, you know?" She looks at me with a raised eyebrow and tight jaw.

"See it as an apology for pulling you into this whole fake girlfriend thing," I tell her and hand my card to the waiter anyway.

"The next one is my treat," she insists before she freezes.

Ha! She implied there'd be a next time. Now, play it cool, Asher.

"If we keep this up for three more months, I guess we need to be seen again together," she quickly adds, her alcohol-red face turning an even deeper shade of red.

"Sure," I say noncommittedly while internally freaking out. I'll just have to pay in advance at that restaurant or something.

Standing up, I hand over her jacket and help her put it on before I do the same and we make our way out of the restaurant. She doesn’t even tense too much when I put my arm over her shoulder this time.

That’s probably the alcohol.

The crowd must have tripled in size since we came here, even though it was a short dinner; we were in there for not even an hour.

But here they are, yet again screaming, blinding us with their flashing cameras and being obnoxious in general. Thank God for Sven and his guys. They free our way and I only notice halfway there that they've called for reinforcements. Instead of four, now it's around ten guys keeping our path open.

I stop by the passenger door and let her in first, again shielding her with my body as she climbs in, glaring at all the guys who are trying to photograph past me anyway. Fucking perverts.

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