Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Zoya hurries after me, stepping out into the bright early morning sunshine behind me about the time I come to a dead stop, blinking in shock at the row of paparazzi and reporters lined up outside the gates of the studio.
"What the hell?" I mutter.
"Nadia! Are you and Teo Kirby dating?" Margo Perry shouts, shoving her face up against the chain-link fence.
"How long have you two been dating?" another reporter yells at me.
"Is he the football player from your music?" a paparazzi shouts.
I stare in shock, my stomach churning as they rapidly fire questions at me, shouting over each other. They don't wait for answers. They just yell and snap photos. Yell and snap.
"Shit," Zoya growls when I just stand there, frozen like a deer in the headlights. She grabs my arm, practically hauling me back inside the studio.
I fall back against the door, gasping for breath. Shaking.
"Breathe, Nadia," she whispers, gripping my shoulders. "You have to breathe."
Except…I can't. They know about him now. The whole damn world knows he's the one I sing about. How? What the hell happ–?
"Someone must have gotten photos of us," I whimper, sliding weakly down the door. I land heavily on my ass, staring blankly at the wall across from me. I've tried so damn hard to never have to talk about him. My music said everything I wanted to say. Now, everyone knows his name. They're going to find out the whole pathetic story.
I'm not the person they think I am. On stage, I'm cool and confident, someone they admire. But before I was her, I was…someone different. Someone so freaking terrified I couldn't even get into a car without falling to pieces. I lost myself. I lost my sense of direction. And the part that still haunts me is the fact that he never showed up. He didn't care enough to even pick up the damn phone.
But he cares about being seen with me in photos.
"You have to breathe, Nadia," Zoya says, crouching in front of me, her eyes wide with worry. "Whatever photos they have don't matter. We don't have to confirm anything. Just breathe."
I suck in a shaking breath, trying to pull myself together. She's right. I don't have to confirm anything. But she's wrong, too. It doesn't matter if I confirm or deny it. They're going to dig now that they have photos. They won't stop until they come up with something—our past, the accident, everything that happened after, whatever they can splash across magazine headlines and gossip pages. It's what they do.
I've only avoided it thus far by keeping my life as uninteresting as humanly possible. I've always kept the focus on the music. I don't go out. I don't date. I'm a good girl in a city full of people far more scandalous. They sell magazines and generate clicks. I just sell albums.
He's back in my life for one day, and all of that is over. I'm right back there again, staring at the wreckage of my past. And it's no less painful for the distance.
"I need to see the photos," I whisper to Zoya.
She chews on her bottom lip, clearly hesitant.
"If you don't look, I will."
"Dammit," she mutters, dragging her phone out of her pocket.
Not even five seconds later, mine vibrates.
I pull it out to see my manager's name flashing across the display.
"Hey," I whisper, placing it to my ear.
"Teo Kirby? You're fucking Teo Kirby?" she practically shrieks in my ear. "Why didn't I know about this?"
"I'm not sleeping with him."
"Oh no," Zoya whispers beside me, her face blanching.
"What?" I growl, not liking that tone or that look—at all.
She bites her bottom lip, slowly turning her phone around for me to see it. But I don't need to read the headline to know I'm going to kill Teo because Olive is already delivering that news.
New Duo: Football Bad Boy Confirms He's Dating Pop Princess!
"He stopped outside the arena an hour ago to talk to the paparazzi camped out there," Olive says. "According to him, the two of you are an item."
"Oh my god. I'm going to kill him," I whisper-shout, my heart slamming against my ribcage. "Why would he do that? Has he lost his freaking mind?"
"Did he ever have one to begin with?" Olive sniffs, clearly unimpressed by my former best friend. "Causing problems is what he does best, Nadia. It's precisely why he'll be out of the league come the end of the season."
"Wait. What?"
"Yep," she says. "Rumor is that they're fed up with his antics and the bad press he generates for the league. Unless he gets his shit together, this will be his last season."
"Crap," I whisper, my heart sinking. I didn't know he was at risk of being dropped from the league over his behavior. I shouldn't feel sorry for him. He did it to himself, after all. But…I feel sorry for him anyway. Football is the only thing in his life that seems to be going right. Everything else is a mess. What happens if he loses it?