Page 43 of Ruck Me Harder

I wake up to three thousand notifications on my Instagram. My good mood evaporates, just like that.

My first date with Vivienne went great. After her quiet confession in the stands, we watched the rest of the game, trading innocent touches and little kisses. When I drove her home, we parked my bike in front of her building and made out for what felt like forever.

She didn’t invite me in and I didn’t ask.

And now…

Opening Instagram, I see I’ve been tagged in a dozen different photos. Most of them are from last night, the two of us at the basketball game, a few shots of us kissing. There’s even a photo from when we went to have coffee the other day.

I knew Vivienne was a public figure, but I didn’t think she was so well known that people would be essentially stalking her. I really didn’t think they’d be able to figure out who I was, especially not this quickly.

My phone lights up with a call from her, and I answer immediately.

“Good morning.” My voice comes out husky and sleep-hoarse.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurts.

“Sorry about what?”

“You should check social media,” she says. “They’re… well, it’s everywhere. Our date.”

“I saw it. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. I don’t enjoy having my privacy violated. But they don’t care about me, they’re interested in her. As soon as she breaks this off, I’m sure they’ll lose interest in me.

Vivienne is quiet. I can hear noise on the other end of the call—it hasn’t dropped—but she doesn’t say anything.

“Maybe we should cool off for a little while,” she finally says.

My stomach drops. Last night, I thought she was interested in seeing where this could go.

“Is that what you want?”

She lets out a noise of frustration. “No. But I don’t want you dragged into anything that makes you uncomfortable. Especially when you have Worlds on the line.”

“I’m fine, it’s fine.”

She laughs. “Yeah, you’re super convincing.”

“I just want to get to know you better,” I tell her. “Do I like that people were taking photos of us without our consent? No. Does that make me want to stop dating you? No. I like you. I can deal with them as long as it means more time with you.”

“Fuck,” she whispers.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighs. “You’re saying everything right. I just…”

“Does this make you change your mind?”

“No. I’m used to this. My agent might care though.”

Oh. I hadn’t thought about that.

“Would they have an issue with it?” Holding my breath, I run my hand through my hair as I wait.

“I don’t know,” Vivienne finally says. “My sponsors might.”

“Your sponsors might care that you have a boyfriend?”