Page 99 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“I asked, leaning forward, but keeping a safe distance. He kept watching me, not in a hurry.”

A.J., do you know what the ‘D’ in my name means?

“I knew. Of course, I knew. But I shook my head, trying to buy time. My breath was already speeding up.”

Then we have two options.

“His voice came out controlled, almost casual, but there was nothing casual about it.”

You can sign a five-year contract with me, get this song, and all the best ones that come your way, or… I can throw away our little contract, which expires in a month, and put you on a direct flight to the end of the world where I found you.

“My God, A.J., I’m so sorry…” Alexandra caresses my hand, smoothes my face, and strokes my hair as if that could stop the pain.

Stop me from feeling… small.

So, for that, I have to sleep with you?

“I asked all at once, the words coming out like a sharp knife. I knew the answer before I even asked.”

No.

“He stepped away from the table and came closer with two slow steps.”

You just need to acknowledge the relationship we have.

“He stared at me, inches away, then touched my neck. My whole body froze.”

And what relationship do we have?

“I asked, wanting the ground to open up, it was so…”

“Agonizing,” Alexandra says, outraged.

I gave you a house, I support you, and I keep your job, Antony.

“His tone no longer had patience. The generous businessman mask was starting to crack.”

I’m your…

“Big Daddy,”I interrupted, before he could say anything that would make me puke.

Alexandra’s eyes widen beside me.

“A.J…”

So, this is what it means to be one of Big D.’s stars?

“I asked, pulling his hand off my face. He sighed and stepped back.”

I’m not one of the bad guys, A.J.

“Imagine what they don’t do then…” Alexandra snorts in anger.

“He said that as if he were doing me a favor.”

I’m not stopping you from walking out that door, I didn’t hold your passport or anything like that. I only have power over your career, never over you.

“He bared his teeth, but that wasn’t a smile. It was a sentence. And I understood: If I walked out that door, he’d never touch me again. But he’d also never let me step on a stage again. So I left. Without looking back.”

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