Page 90 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

“Jenna, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that. I thought…” What did I even think? That telling her about her dad would somehow save her from ending up with some loser? “I don’t know what I even thought. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“It’s fine.” She shakes her head, looking back out the window. “It’s been a long twenty-four hours. I think we’re just tired. I’m too tired right now to figure out all my relationship problems and how they relate to my dad. I think I’ll just save that deep dive for a therapist, you know?”

“Yeah, sure. That makes sense.”

I still feel like a jerk. Like the absolute worst guy in the world. I don’t think I could feel worse about how this night is ending.

Jenna’s phone on the tray between us lights up with a text. She slowly leans forward, grabbing it. I watch her expression go from tired to hard as she reads it. Then her eyes flip to me.

I can’t read the masked expression as she stares at me.I’m getting nothing, as if I’ve lost my internet connection in the middle of a search. Jenna is offline, and now the old-school dial-up ringtone plays in the back of my mind as each second ticks on.

“Is everything okay?”

She hands me the phone. “It’s for you.”

“For me? Why would a text to you be for me?” I take the device, watching as she immediately turns her gaze to the window again, like she couldn’t care less what my reaction is.

Unknown Number: Hi, Jenna. This is Calista James. I got your number from your manager. I hope that’s okay. I know it’s super awkward that I’m texting you, but I’ve been trying to get ahold of Cody all night, and he isn’t answering his phone. Maybe his battery died. You’re with him at your brother’s wedding, right? And just so you don’t think I’m some homewrecker, I know your whole relationship is fake. Ha ha. Dallas and my manager have been working together on this to take the attention away from me and Cody while my divorce settles. Anyway, I was wondering if you could have Cody call me. I really need to talk to him. Thanks for your help! *kissy emoji*

“This isn’t what you think,” I immediately say.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” Her head shifts, and I wish she weren’t such a good actor. I wish her eyes betrayed her right now, but they don’t. They’re absent of emotion. “She’s your girlfriend. She’s probably freaking out that she hasn’t heard from you tonight. Give the poor woman a call.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. There’s absolutely nothing romantic going on between us.” I rub my beard, not knowing how I get myself in these kinds of situations. “Calista is just a friend. We worked together on my last movie when everything was going down with her marriage to Billie Francom. She opened up to me, and I sort of became her confidant. I can’t tell you the details of her divorce because it’s not my story to tell, but it’s bad. All her other friends have turned on her and sided with Billie, so I’m all she has left. She just needs a friend and some occasional advice. That’s all that’s going on between us, but you know how the tabloids are. They take every relationship in my life and twist it into some sordid affair. But I swear, Jenna. I’m telling the truth.”

The hardness that was once surrounding the edges of her eyes softens. “It’s good she has a friend she can talk to.” She glances at the phone. “You should call her. She must be having a really bad night.”

“It can wait. I want to make sure everything between us is okay.” I think about reaching for her, about grabbing her hand and lacing my fingers through hers to ease some of the tension I’m feeling, but I don’t.

“There’s nothing between us. Everything’s fine. You should call Calista before we take off. I’m tired and will probably fall asleep on the flight anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods.

I hate just walking away, but Jenna has already leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

I don’t think I’d get anything else from her even if I tried.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

JENNA

I built a world out of glances across the room, longing stares, heated touches, and forbidden feelings.

I let myself fall in love with a dream.

Then it all blew up in my face. I’m left with the smell of smokey hair—figuratively speaking; my hair always smells great—and another broken heart.

“What happened when the wedding ended?” Winnie is sprawled out on my mattress, watching my stylist, Devon, twist my hair around a curling iron for the wrap party tonight.

“The yacht returned to the dock, a car took us to the airport, and we flew home.” My demeanor, my voice, my everything is detached. I’m so detached from the Cody situation I’m like a garage on the side of a house.

Winnie flips to her stomach, resting her chin on her hands, swinging her feet in the air behind her. She looks like a six-year-old girl in pigtails with way too much enthusiasm for my Cody Banner story. I should probably tell her that love is a fantasy that only exists in movies. I know. I just filmed one of those fantasies that tricks young girls into believing that happily ever after exists.

But it doesn’t exist.

“What about the plane ride?” she asks.

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