Page 14 of Beneath the Hood

“Well, that was before I knew you were getting attached.” She leans in, resting her palms on the table. My eyes flash to where her hands press into the glass, and I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. Having her talk about Jackson makes my lungs squeeze tight.

Closing my eyes, I try to stay calm and focus on the conversation.

Deep breath in. One. Two. Three. Deep breath out.

My heart rate starts to level, and I reassure myself that Sierra is wrong. I’m not attached, I just like the way he makes me feel. He doesn’t expect me to be anything, he just lets me simplybe.

“I’m not getting attached. I just… he doesn’t treat me like everyone else.” I shake my head, huffing out a laugh. “He doesn’t evenlikeme. How pathetic is that? The realest person in my life, and he can’t stand the sight of me.”

Sierra tsks. “He seems to like the sight of you just fine if that picture’s any indication.”

My eyes glide back to the computer screen, my stomach jolting from the memory of what it felt like to be spinning in Jackson’s orbit, even for a moment.

“Look, B. I’m gonna keep it real. He’s good for the gossip but he’s not good for the brand. Not long-term. Cartier doesn’t want to dangle off the wrist of someone whose man can’t afford to put it there.”

My brows draw in. “Cartier isn’t even one of my sponsors.”

“And they never will be if you fall for this guy.”

“Ughhhh,” I groan, throwing my head back. “Will you shut the hell up? Nobody isfallingfor anyone. God, he was only there because my father told him to be.”

Sierra shrugs. “I’m just saying... let’s keep it that way. He’s hot, and he’s a great tool to keep your name in the headlines, but that’s all he is, you know?A tool.Product placement.”

Her words scrape against my ears, making me cringe at the harsh reality of my life. You either play the game or you don’t, that’s what she’s really saying.

Dance, monkey, dance.

In my world, consent is an illusion, an act put on for the masses. It’s all fake. And Jackson is just so damn real.

But I’m not.

And that’s why I know I’m going to agree even before my head starts to nod. Even though there’s a sour taste on the back of my tongue, and a weight pulling down my chest. Because I’ll do anything to rise to the top.

To be seen.

8

Jackson

Iwoke up this morning after tossing and turning all night, worried like hell about how Lee was handling things back home. Wondering if she misses me, even just a little. If she’s surrounded with a good support system, or if she’s breaking apart from holding the weight of her alcoholic father and her estranged brother on her back.

Leaving was the right choice, though. I’ve lived the past decade watching her give someone else the beats of her heart, leaving me alone with its echo. Staying would have only been hurting myself, and even though I’ve loved Lee through my pain, I’m not a masochist.

It’s hard enough coming to terms with the fact it’s her first love, and my ex-best friend, Chase, who’s drying up all her tears. I don’t need to stay around to see it. Ican’t.But not speaking to her like I’m used to leaves an ache behind that not even the strongest liquor has been able to numb.

But last night, something finally did.

Blakely.

She’s always been simply my boss’s brat daughter, with a silver spoon up her ass, and a knack for never leaving me the hell alone. A minor inconvenience because of the way she gets under my skin, but one I would have done anything to distance myself from.

Now, things feel different. I’m confused. Twisted up in ways I didn’t know had any slack left to tangle, and I’m not sure what to do with the realization that the one thing screaming disaster is also the one thing that dulls the pain.

Last night, for the first time in years, my mind wasn’t stuck on Lee. My heart wasn’t wading through the muddy waters of unconditional love and unreturned feelings.

It wasn’t until later—after I got home and jerked off to the thought of my cock down Blakely’s throat—that I realized it had been hours since Lee was even a passing thought. But the guilt quickly washed away any relief that was there, heartbreak pumping through my body and whooshing in my ears until the only sound left was the hollow ring of longing.

Maybe that’s why when I see Blakely’s driver pull her S-Class Maybach up to the curb, I drop what I’m doing and go inside to meet her. Because she’s the perfect distraction, a reprieve from the constant feeling of being second best. Besides, I can’t really watch over her the way her dad wants if she doesn’t think we’re friends.

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