Page 20 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

Spinning, I see five or six paparazzi a few yards away, their camera lenses pointed in our direction as they take shot after shot after shot of us together. I look over at Julia with an incredulous expression, but she’s wearing her “Aria” smile, that shy yet determined look the character gets when she thinks of being with Lucas Lumin.

Wrapping my fingers around her wrist as the paps start shouting questions about how long we’ve been together, I pull Julia into the closest trailer––mine––for a little privacy. By the time I close the door behind us, Julia is crying.

“I’m sorry, Gav. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What are you talking about, Julia? Tell me what’s going on,” I say, tempering the violence in my voice for her benefit.

This is bad. Those pictures of us kissing will be online within a few hours, if not sooner, which means Willow may see them before I have a chance to explain. Willow doesn’t know I’m not Julia’s type. That we would never be together like that––even if I was attracted to her, which I’m not.

Hell, I only know the truth because Julia trusted me enough to tell me, and I sure as shit had no plans to break that trust, ever. But now? Now, I might have to.

“I’ve been hanging out with this local girl for a few weeks now, and I thought she liked me as much as I like her,” Julia says, and my mind snaps into focus on the problem at hand.

“Oh, no,” I whisper when her expression turns tortured.

She nods and sniffs loudly. “I thought we were having a moment, and I leaned in for a kiss. God, I’m so fucking stupid. You should’ve seen her face, Gav. She was horrified. How could I have read that sowrong?”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Jules.”

I do care about her, and I don’t like seeing her hurt, but she may have just ruined my chance at true happiness.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she mumbles, watching me with desperate eyes.

“So you set up the paparazzi to catch us kissing to counteract any rumors she might start about you,” I say, my voice monotone.

Completely devoid of life or hope.

“I’m sorry,” she cries again, then shakes her head violently. “I’m not ready, Gavin. I don’t want the public to know. Not yet. Please. Help me.”

Swallowing against the denial in my throat, I tug my phone from my pocket and call my agent. As it rings, I spear Julia with a sharp look.

“I’m telling Willow. I have to. She won’t tell anyone, Julia, and I have to explain this to her.”

She gives me a worried nod. “Okay, but please, beg her to keep the secret.”

“She will,” I say just as my agent picks up, and I greet her saying, “Hey, I need your help.”

“What’s happened?” she asks, her voice deepening with concern.

I put the call on speaker so Julia can listen and talk, as well, and we explain what’s happened. The agent-actor contract comes with a nondisclosure agreement, so we’re not worried about this conversation being repeated.

“We should lean into it,” she says when we finish speaking.

“What?” I all but shout.

“Not only would a real relationship between you two save Julia from any unwanted rumors, the fans will go wild for it. It’ll drive ticket and merchandise sales, make you both more popular, and that popularity will give you a leg up with any future roles you want.”

“Sounds good to me,” Julia says, watching me with hope in her eyes.

I don’t respond verbally, but on the inside, I’m screaming. I can’t do this. No. No. No.

“Listen, Gavin,” my agent says when I’ve remained silent for too long. “If you try to come clean and admit this was a stunt, you’ll be crucified in the press. You don’t really have a choice at this point. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

What else am I going to say? Julia is the only person who knows about Willow and me, and I can’t exactly tell my agent I’m dating a minor––even if Willow is seventeen and only two years younger than me.

I just hope Willow will understand when I explain.

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