Page 71 of The Arrogant One
“Fuck,” she replied.
“Fuck?” I questioned.
She slowly turned the phone toward me.
There was a Celebrity Alert on her screen—some bullshit gossip site that was, sadly and unfortunately, accurate a lot of the time. They sent out notifications when they were tipped off about celebrity news.
In this instance, the words I was reading and the pictures I was viewing were some that hit personally.
“Fuck,” I mirrored her statement and glanced at Beck.
Once Beck finished reading the alert, he scanned the bar, looking at the faces that surrounded us before his gaze returned to mine. “If they notice me in here, they’re going to start askingquestions about the Celebrity Alert—the one I’m sure they’re reading like every other goddamn person in this world—and I’ll get swarmed. I’ve got to get out of here before that happens.”
I patted his shoulder, trying not to show how fucking pissed off I was at the tip that had been aired. “That’s probably a good idea.”
SIXTEEN
Sadie
Ileft my phone on the table in case Lockhart wrote back to my last text—when I’d told him I trusted him with every part of my body—and I took a bite of the burrata that had just been delivered.
Bryn was in the midst of telling me about the new guy at work who had asked her out for a third time. He sounded fabulous from everything she’d told me about him, so when she’d mentioned him in the past, along with tonight, I encouraged her to go on the date. But she refused, adamant that office romances led to nothing but awkwardness when they didn’t work out—and they never worked out, according to her.
I was trying to prove that there were exceptions, and I was in the middle of ayou must go out with himlecture when she lifted her finger in the air, halting me, and said, “We need to pause for Beck Weston.”
Beck Weston?
“We need to do what?” I asked.
Her jaw dropped as she stared at her watch. “You know, Beck Weston, my pretend boyfriend, whose face is currently staring back at me. Sigh.” A sly smile came over her lips.
“Bryn, I’m lost. Why is his face staring back at you on your watch? Unless you saved it as the background pic … and in that case, did you really? And do you need an intervention?”
She grabbed her cell, shifting her focus there. “I wouldn’t put it past me to save his photo, but, no, a Celebrity Alert just came through about him.” Her smile grew as she read whatever was on the screen. “Ugh, I’m obsessed. That man is just so hot. No,hotisn’t even the right word. That’s for a normal level of hotness. His handsomeness is beyond that scale.” There was a fiery gaze in her eyes as she continued to stare at her screen.
I felt the same way about Lockhart, so I understood exactly what she was saying and how she felt.
When several seconds passed and she still hadn’t looked up, I said, “Beck is quite the heartthrob, huh?”
“No, he’s a vag-throb.”
I laughed.
“I was at his game the other night with the office crew—you know the group of people I’m talking about—and he was stretching on the ice during the warm-up.” She put both palms on the table and leaned toward me. “I’m not talking downward dog, Sadie. I’m talking full on, spread out, hands holding his weight, basically doing a push-up, while his legs swiveled in, like, a frog kick. It’s probably hard to envision, but basically, he was humping the ice. Literally grinding as if I were beneath him and he was giving it to me very slow and extra hard.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “And you died, I’m assuming?”
“DIED.” She fanned her face with her fingers. “I don’t think he realized the audience he had when he was doingthat move. Or if he did, that man was working it for us. I mean, I suppose he could have been opening his hips and stretching his groin and truly only focused on that, but there’s no way my brain couldn’t go there when I was watchingthat.” Her head shook. “There was one thing on my mind and one thing only. And that thing”—she half moaned, half whistled—“I will take it anytime Beck Weston wants to give it to me.”
“Now I’m really dying.” The laughter continued. “How was the game?”
“What game? The only thing I saw was him. I can’t tell you how he played—how his team or the other team did or even who won. I have absolutely no idea.”
I smiled. “That’s true love.”
“No, babe, that’s true lust.”
I held up my glass and drank to my best friend. “Let’s see what this Celebrity Alert is all about.”
