Page 74 of Stroked by (Stroked)
I don’t absorb a word Ashley says to me over the phone. Something about an interview, honestly, I don’t give a fuck. It’s late, Paisley’s plane landed hours ago, and I’ve only received one text from her, letting me know she landed. Ever since then, radio silence.
“And don’t forget, you have a photo opportunity with Bellini before the meet. Production will be there. I was able to gain clearance through USA Swimming as long as we offer them footage.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I respond.
I have the call on loud speaker so I’m able to flip through my phone while I talk to her.
“Are you even paying attention to me right now?”
“I am. Interviews and photo opp with Bellini. Check.”
“Can you please look interested in the girl tomorrow? If we are going to pull off this fake relationship, you have to do more than just stand next to her.”
Would punching her in the throat count as doing more? In my head, it seems like a legitimate way to act in a fake relationship. Even though it is a fucking fantastic idea in my head, I know it won’t go over well, not just with production, but with Bellini. Pretty sure she would have her priest dog do some kind of hex on me. Not that priests can do those things, but who knows when it comes to something that belongs to Bellini?
“Yeah, sure.”
“Maybe kiss for the camera.”
Now I’m fucking paying attention. “Not going to happen,” I curtly tell her. Not only do I never want to press my lips against her evil skin, but I don’t want to do that to Paisley. The girl is on the rocks as it is when it comes to me, and she’s putting a lot on the line, so I don’t want make her feel bad.
“You’re going to have to do it at some point.”
“Actually I’m not,” I answer back, looking through my text messages to see if I missed anything from Paisley. Still nothing. “Nowhere in my contract does it say that I have to kiss her.”
“It’s all about being in a relationship. You should try it sometime, it’s actually quite fun.”
I want to shout at her and tell her that I am trying it, and all it’s caused me today is an overwhelming sense of nausea. Why the fuck hasn’t she text me back?
Trying to be cool, I only sent her about a half dozen text messages and held back from calling her. I didn’t want to look like a psycho. But damn, I needed my Paisley fix. I needed to make sure that what happened on the plane wasn’t going to deter her from what we’ve started to develop.
“I’m good,” I reply to Ashley just as there is a knock on my door. My entire body perks up with the hope that Paisley might be on the other side of the door. “Hey, got to go. Email Paisley and me anything else you need me to know. Have a good night.”
I hang up, spring from the bed, and quickly check myself in the mirror. Semi-pleased with what I’m working with, I fling the door open to see Bellini standing on the other side.
Christ.
“What’s up, Bellini?”
“Can I come in?” She’s whining. I fucking hate when she whines.
“It’s not a good time. I have to wake up early for the meet tomorrow. What’s up?”
“I feel like we never talk.”
“That’s because we’re not in a real relationship,” I harshly whisper to her, wishing she would leave immediately. I don’t need her seeing Paisley near my room—that’s if she ever decides to show up.
“We could be.” She runs her fingers over mine that are gripping onto the door jamb. As fast as I can, I remove them from touching distance.
“Never going to happen, Bellini. We talked about this. Now unless you have something important to tell me that deals with the show, I’m going to have to say good night.”
“Fine.” She stomps her foot on the ground, hands at her side. “Just treat me like crap, I don’t care.”
“Good to know. Have a good night.”
I shut the door on her just as I hear her say, “Mauve, what are you doing up here?”
Mauve? Oh shit. Flinging the door back open, I see Paisley, wide eyes and startled by the ever-pressing Bellini.
