Page 93 of How Jenna Became My Dilemma

By the time I get to the passenger side of the car, security holds paparazzi and fans back. I open the door and take Jenna’s hand, helping her decently get down from the tall Jeep without giving everyone a front-row show to whatever kind of underwear she has on under that skimpy dress. One mention of underwear and my heartbeat goes sporadic, but I’m not a weirdo. She’s an underwear model—Jenna and sexy underwear are synonymous. I don’t know why I added the sexy part. Maybe I am a weirdo. Moving on.

Jenna whips her head to the crowd, dazzling everyone with a giant, toothy smile. It’s not her real one. No, I have that one memorized by heart, knowing every curve of her lips and lines at the corner of her eyes.

Camera lights flash like we’re in old Hollywood, with the ancient popping and crackling bulbs blinding us. Jenna waves in slow motion and then glances up at me. The streetlight illuminates everything phony about her stare. There’s no emotion behind her green eyes—okay, maybe there's a little indignation, but other than that, her gaze is void of everything I’ve grown to love about her.

“Cody! Jenna! Over here!”

She twists our bodies toward the cameras, trailing her hand to my neck. She keeps it there, tickling the back as more flashes go off. Nothing about her movement feels genuine. It’s staged. So is the soft kiss she plants on my cheek.

My brows lower as she pulls back. “What are you doing?”

“Acting.”

That one word hits me across the face like a back-handed slap, which hurts more and leaves a longer sting, but she doesn’t keep her eyes on me long enough to even see my reaction. Instead, she turns back to the cameras, leading me down the sidewalk.

Hand in hand, we walk to the step-and-repeat backdrop that has the Flixmart and The Promised Prince logos printed all over it. Jenna curls into my side, an action that I’d normally welcome, but today it feels wrong. She’s leaning, pressing, grabbing, and touching me, but it’s all so overdone and without feeling it makes my stomach sick.

But I smile, keeping our angles and where we look the same. Jenna’s hand slides down my body to the dip above my backside, gazing up at me with another one of her excessive smiles. Basically, her hand is on the top of my butt, which should be a good thing, especially since this is the first time it’s ever been there. But I can’t even enjoy it because I know it’s not real. She’s not touching me this way because she wants to. It’s all a facade.

“Kiss! Kiss!” one photographer yells, and before I can pull away, Jenna’s lips are on top of mine, but this kiss is nothing like the one we shared a few days ago. This kiss is bland and forced.

More flashes. More pictures.

Everyone gets what they want.

The photographers get their magazine spread.

The doting fans get a happily ever after.

Dallas gets to say he fixed the infamous bad boy’s reputation.

Tawny gets Jenna’s acting career off the ground.

Quinton gets his ratings up.

And me and Jenna? Do either of us actually get what we want?

All I know is that I don’t want this.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

JENNA

Once inside the club and away from the cameras, I pull my fingers out of Cody’s grasp. He looks back, eyeing my now empty hand. Hurt radiates from his stare, but he doesn’t say anything. He turns and keeps walking toward the back of the club, where some of the cast sit at a giant round booth.

“Hey!” the entire table cheers when we approach.

“Look who it is!” Teague stands, pulling Cody into one of those bro hugs, while I take the opportunity to slide into a seat, scooting way over.

“You’re all in a good mood.” I pick up someone’s half-empty glass, not knowing what kind of drink it’s filled with, and gulp it down, swallowing hard as the sting of alcohol coats my throat.

“Of course we’re in a good mood.” Teague sits next to me before Cody can scoot in. I feel his eyes on me but don’t meet his stare. “Haven’t you heard the good news?”

“What good news?” Cody mutters, taking the seat across from me.

“Flixmart signed us for season two. We’ll start pre-production on The Stolen Princess this fall.” Teague lifts his glass, and everyone does the same, clanking them together in the middle.

I grab the glass out of Kylee’s hand and drink it before she has the chance.

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