Page 92 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

“Me too. I was really tired. I’m hoping I can last at least a couple of hours here tonight.” She doesn’t respond. In fairness, I didn’t ask a question, but usually, conversation has a bit more give and take than what I’m getting from her. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Yep.” Her eyes flip briefly to me as she answers, then shift back to the window.

“You seem a little off.”

“Nope, I’m fine.”

I scratch my head, glancing over her folded arms and closed-off body. Something is not right. I didn’t expect her to hold my hand all the way to the club, but up until the end of the wedding last night, I was used to a little bit more from her. This feels like the beginning of our relationship, when we first started filming and she hated me.

I try one more time to get more out of her, because it’s killing me to have so many walls between us. I don’t think my heart has ever felt so uncomfortable in my entire life.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you think you did something wrong?”

“Well, there was the whole Calista thing—”

“Which I said I believed you on.”

“Okay.” I hesitate before listing another one of my crimes. “And then everything I said about your dad.”

“I don’t even care about that—at least, not right now.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Then what is it?”

She stares at me again like I should know what I did.

What did I do?

I’m racking my brain and panicking all at the same time. Everything was fine. So fine that I wanted to kiss her, and then Calista called and interrupted things, and then we went back to the wedding party. I didn’t notice at first that she was acting differently. Maybe she wasn’t. There was a lot going on between the cake cutting and the bouquet toss.

Oh, man, maybe all of this is because Jenna didn’t catch the bouquet. Women are sensitive about that kind of stuff, and I know how much she wants to get married.

“Is this about the bouquet?”

“What?” Her entire expression turns annoyed. This is definitely not about the bouquet. “That’s dumb.”

“Right. So dumb.” Backpedal and agree. That’s the strategy now.

“Don’t worry.” Her focus goes back to the window and whatever is more interesting than me. “I’ll be fine in front of the cameras.”

“I wasn’t worried about the cameras. None of that matters to me.”

We may have started this for show, but things changed for me. All I care about now is Jenna’s well-being, and right now, nothing about her being seems well.

Silence fills the last few minutes of our car ride, and I hate it.

Hate it.

I pull up in front of the Gateway Club and glance at her as I shift the car into park. For three seconds, I try to come up with something to say to try and salvage the situation, but I’m drawing a blank.

My door opens, and a twenty-something valet driver stares at me. “Good evening, Mr. Banner.”

Mr. Banner. I sound like an eleventh-grade history teacher.

“Hey.” I drop out of the Jeep, handing him the keys.

The screaming fans lined up on the street go wild when they see me. I muster a smile even though I’m really distracted by everything that’s happening with Jenna.

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