Page 65 of Love Unexpected
The message was followed by a winking emoji.
I dropped my phone onto my lap and leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, closing my eyes. It was stupid that his message to Ana could wound my pride. It was a message tome. Iwas the one Isaac thought understood him in ways that other people never had. But I couldn’t help but feel like he’d written it withRosiein mind. Ana understood him...but clearly Rosie never could. It was the weirdest, most ridiculous sensation ever to be both flattered and insulted at the same time. It was impossible to be jealous of myself, and yet, I totally was. Jealous of the woman Isaac believed he would find in Kansas City. And positive that once he did find out it was me? He was going to be disappointed.
Anxiety bubbled up in my midsection, clawing its way up my throat. My hands started to tremble and sweat broke out across my forehead. I kept my eyes closed and focused on my breathing. I was not going to freak out now. I was in control. I could control this moment and I could control my next actions. Ten intentional breaths later, I felt a little better. But I also knew with sharpened clarity what those next actions should be.
Isaac claimed I understood him in ways that other people didn’t. And maybe I did. I’d always believed that what made Isaac so wonderful, so popular, was the fact that he was so genuine, soreal, on his show. People felt like they were getting the real Isaac all the time. And in many ways, that was true. But the night before, I’d seen something more flashing behind his eyes. Something that almost looked like loneliness.
And why wouldn’t he be lonely? Isaac had been living and sharing his life with the public for more than a decade. Considering how to frame his life, filtering his interactions and relationships through the lens that would play best to his audience had become second nature. Of course he was capable of having interactions without filming them; he’d demonstrated that well enough when he’d had breakfast with Shiloh. But he’d only done it because I’d told him to.
The lines had gotten too blurry. For all I knew, the only reason Isaac wanted Ana instead of Rosie—and that much was obvious—was because finding her at the end of his mysterious road trip made for a better story.
What was the cost of focusing so much energy on what other people wanted? On what had the highest entertainment value?
This time around? The cost was me.
Rosie and Ana, both.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Isaac
It had been rude to push Rosie into the backseat. I wasn’t so insensitive not to realize as much. But what choice did I have? I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And Ineededto stop thinking about her. And not just because I was going to see Ana.
I’d meant it when I’d told Rosie she challenged me. She did. In ways that made my gut clench and my skin prickle. The only other person that had ever challenged me on the boundaries I had regarding what did and didn’t make it onto the show was Dani. She’d been firm. Her relationship with me was not for public consumption.
I’d always been happy to respect her feelings. Mostly because Dani was not the kind of person you mess with. And since we hadn’t always been close, there was no way I was messing up how good things were now by demanding she play a bigger part inRandom I.
Besides, it wasn’t her life that had becomeRandom I.It was mine. I was the one who had to keep it going. I was the one that fans expected to hear from. It was my life they cared about.
Still, I couldn’t get Rosie’s words out of my head. Did I spend too much time thinking about what fans would like the most? It was true that I often framed interactions and experiences based on what would be the most entertaining. It was an interesting brand of stardom. Because my brand hadn’t been built off of my acting skills or my savvy tech knowledge. I was just a guy that had started talking about his life one day. And for whatever reason, it had taken off. Now, there were seventy-five employees who depended on all those viewerslikingmy life. Liking what I had to say and how I said it. I got that boundaries were important. But making sure Jade and Diedre could afford to adopt a third baby was also important. Making sure Greg from Accounting could put his kid in braces and take his family on vacation for spring break. Making sure Alex had a good job so he and Dani could raise their baby without worry. It all mattered. And it all rested on my shoulders.
I couldn’t really afford to be selfish. To think about what made me happy without considering whether or not it aligned with the show. Come what may, it was the nature of the business I’d built.
I pulled into the diner parking lot and sighed when I noticed the crowds already gathering on the sidewalks out front. I wasn’t in the mood for this. It had been hard enough bantering with Tyler on the way over, Rosie’s looming presence in the backseat notwithstanding. Ever since our kiss, it was like I’d become tuned in to her every movement. She’d obviously done her best to ignore me—a treatment I fully deserved—the entire ride over, but there was no way I could ignore her.
As soon as the car pulled to a stop, Rosie bolted from the backseat, nothing more than a mumble about needing to find a bathroom coming from her lips.
“Sheesh,” Tyler said as soon as Rosie was gone. “What happened between you two?”
“Nothing,” I said dismissively. “Everything’s fine. Besides”—I nodded toward the restaurant owner who was waiting for us at the front door—“we have work to do.”
And so we worked. Ate. Smiled. Interacted with fans and took selfies and talked on camera about Nashville’s greatest French toast. The only thing that disappointed me were the grits. My Charleston-defined standards were just too high.
Rosie must not have liked her grits either. She slid them around on her plate without hardly taking a bite.
“They’re better in Charleston,” I said. Tyler had filmed more than enough footage and had already gone outside to pack up his gear, leaving just the two of us at the table.
Rosie looked up, her face expressionless. “So I’ve been told.” She put down her fork and dropped her napkin onto her plate. She held my gaze for a long moment. “They’re best with salt, butter, cheese, and bacon, right?”
I stilled, my eyes narrowing. That’s exactly what I’d told Ana about grits. Not that it was an unpopular way to eat them. At least not in the South. But something about the way Rosie looked at me made me think—
But no. She couldn’t be.
Rosie’s phone dinged and she pulled it out of her bag. “I’m going to go take this,” she said. Then she was gone.
I pulled out my own phone, pulling up my message thread with Ana. I’d sent her something first thing that morning.
She still hadn’t responded, which wasn’t like her at all. I looked toward the restaurant’s door, assuming that’s where Rosie had gone. On impulse, I stood to follow her, only to be waylaid by a group of fans that had been waiting to approach, not wanting to interrupt my meal. I smiled my way through one last round of introductions and forced myself to take selfies with each of them.
