Page 58 of Faking the Pass
They’d tracked down his baby mama, and now pictures of her were splashed across the gossip sites alongside flattering shots of Rosie underneath sympathetic headlines and captions.
“Broken-hearted Actress Finds Love Again,” one of them read.
“TheRealCinderella Story,” another one said. Below that one, there was a large photo of me and Rosie together outside Bellevue Manor. She looked super hot in it.
Apparently all the publicity was doing what Randy hadhopedhis wedding to Rosie would do—interest inOnce Upon a Charmhad surged dramatically.
He’d have to have been one vindictive bastard to delay the release and shoot it all over again.
Having met him though, I wouldn’t put it past the guy.
There hadn’t been any word yet from him or his lawyers. Maybe Rosie was right. Maybe it wouldn’t be necessary to get married after all.
And why did that thought send a hollow echo through my midsection? I guessed I was disappointed my human shield wouldn’t be sticking around for very long.
And I’d probably created a monster getting my own name and picture wallpapered all over the internet and TV.
Once my “relationship” with Rosie ended, the flood of gold-diggers and starfuckers was bound to be epic.
I’d talked to every member of my family several times over the past few days, each of them asking some version of, “What the hell is going on?”
Except for my mom, who didn’t use even the tamest swear words now that she had grandchildren.
Merc did though, and he’d labeled me “Fucking Prince Charming”—minus the actual fucking of course.
“Youreallyhaven’t had sex with her yet?” he asked over the phone, clearly incredulous.
I glanced over at the closed door of the guest room, lowering my voice. “No. I told you, we’re just friends.”
“Yeah, but she wasintoyou in high school.”
“You really think so?”
“Oh yeah. You should have seen how she looked at you,” he said. “I was jealous—she was so hot, and you didn’t give a shit about her, even though you were the only one she seemed to be interested in. And now, after you saved her from Runty Randy, how can she resist?”
I chuckled at the nickname.
“Yeah well, she’d have to come out of her room to be tempted,” I said, “not that I’m trying to tempt her.”
“I would,” Merc said bluntly. “If I had that gorgeous woman inmyhouse, I’d be doing whatever it took to get that bedroom door open.”
I said nothing to that, fighting a vague sense of annoyance at my brother, who I normally got along with.
Close in age, Merc and I had played on the same sports teams our whole lives until we’d gone pro. As Dylan was so muchyounger, and Wilder was well, Wilder, Merc had been my best friend, inside and outside our family home.
“Well, time’s on your side, brother,” he said. “If you want her, that resistance is gonna wear down eventually. I mean, the way you rode in there on your white horse and laid out that sawed-off little actor with your truth sword—I mean,Ikinda wanted to sleep with you after watching that press conference video.”
We both laughed, the tension broken.
“It’s not gonna happen,” I assured him. “She can’t wait to leave.”
“And I can’t wait to say, ‘I told you so.’ I saw what I saw, man,” Merc said, “and I know what I know. Besides, you’re hot, she’s hot. It’s a match made in forced proximity Heaven. It’s gonna happen.”
Right after I hung up with him, Dylan video-called me.
“You’re not going to be able to put Mom off much longer,” he warned. “I almost had to tackle her this morning to keep her from driving over there and surprising you two with breakfast in bed.”
We’d all agreed not to tell our parents the thing between Rosie and me wasn’t real.
