Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Destanie looked briefly confused, her mouth opening and then shutting again as her eyes widened. “It could be, right?” She pulled herself straight, clearly excited about the idea. “We’ll make it one. That’s your signature look from now on.”
Will we call it blue steel? I wondered, a giggle threatening at the vision of that ridiculous expression from Zoolander, but I swallowed it down. Destanie was obviously enthusiastic about the idea, even if it made me feel like a parody.
The important thing though was that it had solved a problem. I didn’t know who she was who had made the comment, and frankly, I didn’t really care. What was important here was that it had allowed me—or Destanie as my spokesperson—to take back control of my image. It was always better, I’d learned, to take ownership of what could be considered an insult, rather than become immediately defensive. So much of social media was pure strategy. Not just in what you posted and the image you chose to put forth, but how you responded to others online as well. And though I’d only been in the spotlight for about a year, I was getting better by the day at cultivating an image.
I should be proud of that. So why did it make me feel sort of…depressed? Why did it sometimes feel like social media—instead of singing—was my new full-time career?
Destanie continued to punch keys into her phone, and I turned back to the window.
Tuck Mattice.
It’d been surreal to see him, a grown man, no longer even a trace of the boy he’d once been. Now a honed and hardened felon. Chiseled. Muscled. Gorgeous. He’d always had a quick smile and an easy laugh. He’d always made bubbles explode under my ribs. His eyes had hung on me then, his expression part bewilderment and part something else I’d been too young to discern and couldn’t conjure now. I’d shown off for him because I’d loved his reaction. And I’d craved that inner turbulence—part off-putting but mostly exciting. We’d fought like little wildcats sometimes, but we’d also played, and chased salamanders, and explored, and gotten into trouble together. I’d thought about our old exploits as I’d gotten ready for his arrival, taking extra care with my hair extensions and makeup. I’d expected that same old look that made me feel fascinating, but it would be even more blatant, more raw, now that I was a woman, a star. Instead, when I’d walked in the room, his face had fallen. He’d looked at me like I was nothing but a deep disappointment. My stomach knotted, those bubbles dissipating one by one.
How dare he?
I’d made the decision not to judge him hastily, but now that I’d seen him in person, I’d realized that I’d had every right to make assumptions. If anything, he’d confirmed exactly what I’d imagined about who he’d become. Hardened. Bitter. Still as unaffected as he’d been the last time I’d seen him. Cold.
And the knowledge not only made me angry, it also hurt. It brought back all those memories of the time after his mother died. He’d turned away from me then, and I’d felt utterly abandoned. I’d tried with all my might to be the friend he’d obviously needed. I’d even gone to that loft in the old stable and taken a few of his beloved books. I’d read one cover to cover even though it was far above my reading level. I’d had to go over some pages ten times before I understood the words. I’d thought I could engage him that way, pull him out of his emotional coma, bring him back to me. But he’d looked right through me as if I didn’t exist. He’d stared at me like that earlier today too. And it’d hurt. It made me bitter that he could still illicit that reaction in me, even now, when I had everything I’d ever wanted in life, and more. When he was so far beneath me, dammit.
And yet, here I was, about to entrust my safety to him. About to bring him into my inner circle. Once again, Tuck Mattice was going to be part of my everyday life.
I looked out at the deepening sunset, troubled and antsy. I had a feeling this was not going to work out well.
“That’s it. That’s the one,” Destanie said, grinning as she took in my face.
I brought my hand up as though whatever she was referring to might be hanging off my cheek. “Oh,” I said, my arm dropping as understanding dawned. “The signature look?”
Destanie laughed, rolling her eyes. “I called your name three times, and you didn’t hear me. Leon just called and said he’s on his way up.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, attempting to straighten out my features. “I got lost in my own head. Tell Leon to meet me on the deck.”