Page 17 of Sweetheart: Part One

Fuck me. I’d never before beenworriedabout if a woman would like me—I was a literal dreamboat, and I’d yet to meet a woman who didn’t.

Nothing was normal today. Sweetheart week routines were usually the same. Love kept to his room while me and Drake hid out in the theatre to avoid disturbance. When Ebony got bored and began ignoring the Sweethearts, that was usually when they’d turn up to bug us.

But not today.

And while Love’s side of the bond was slammed shut, I could see the strange tenseness with which he sat, pretending to be entirely occupied by his book.

“You sure we shouldn’t go and check on her—?” I began, but Drake cut me off.

“She’ll come out when she’s ready,” he said quickly. He was stiff, a little frown on his face as he watched me. I could feel his worry through the bond, as if I’d barge in there and upset her.

I snorted.

If it wasn’t Drake, I’d be concerned he was trying to keep her all to himself, but Drake was painfully sweet, and he valued pack—even when it came to Ebony. If that wasn’t enough to convince me of a heart of gold, nothing was. Which meant he was, in fact, worried I’d go in there and upset her.

Strangely protective over a Sweetheart none of us would sign in…

I jumped when I heard a door brush carpet down the hall. I had to work not to spin around and stare like Drake did—she’d think he was too eager and it wouldn’t do him any favours.

I noticed Love’s eyes flicker to her as she padded into the room, and he subtly tugged his glasses off, setting them on the table beside him. I waited before throwing my arm around the back of the couch, offering nothing more than a quick once over.

Well.

It wassupposedto be a quick once over, but my eyes snagged on her like magnets, and it was hard to look away. It just didn’t matter that she looked nothing like a Sweetheart should, she was everything I’d spent the whole of last night dreaming about. She was wearing a baggy, long-sleeved t-shirt and shorts. Silvery hair with a peach streak, freckles dotted porcelain skin, and a blush of rose on her cheeks. She had that low-key alternative, doll-like grungy style going on, and she looked born for it.

She seemed nervous as she glanced between us, opening her mouth and then shutting it, her cheeks going pinker.

Drake saved her. “This is Vex.”

“Hi,” she said weakly, still looking between me and Love as if she wasn’t sure which of us to focus on. Love was now fixing her with the full attention of his sharp, blue eyes, which was an unnerving experience even for me, and I was bonded with him. Even without the demeanour, he’d be an intimidating guy. Same height and frame as Ebony—those two were taller than necessary, even for alphas—and athletically built even if he wasn’t putting in the effort.

“This uh… isn’t how I imagined this going…” she said. “Sorry I’ve been hiding out.”

I almost smiled at that, but that might look insensitive. “You’re fine,” I settled on, instead.

She sat on the couch beside Drake but didn’t relax, eyes fixed on the TV as if figuring out what to do with herself. That checked out, since I realised all three of us were still staring at her like lost boys who’d just stumbled upon the first girl they’d ever met.

Again, I forced myself to look away, but the image of her was burned into my brain.

Shewasstunning. Daydreams hadn’t done it justice.

I’d checked her file this morning to find she hadn’t made a career out of her looks, which meant she was burning money. But there was no way I could make a statement like that without putting myself on a back foot.

Should we…saysomething? The silence was odd, but there was a rock stuck in my throat—strange and unfamiliar. Usually I was the loud one, the one that put my foot in my mouth, never really sure what I was doing, and happy to speak anyway. I didn’t care—my image could handle it, and most people thought it was charming and down to earth.

I couldn’t help glancing at her again.

She looked phenomenal next to Drake; their styles matched well, but I’d like to see a picture of her on my arm, too. My brand was stylish and colourful, while staying grounded. The perfect arrogant boyfriend to every fan. High fashion and I, we didn’t get along, but Vex was a perfect cross between tomboy and alternative that could stand between me and Drake and look right in place.

Ha.

Ebony and his dumb-as-fuck elf-boy image could get bent.

Only. We didn’t actually want that. Any kind of public facing relationship with a woman would be enough to dip interest from fans. They wanted us hot, single, and open to the Cinderella—which every single fan was, and wasn’t, all at the same time.

A Sweetheart wouldn’t be too terrible, though. They were business. And a contract, which still left it open to breaking down, and then another fan could dream of stepping in.

Maybe it would even be good. Everyone would be reminded we could be romanced on some level…

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