I just got word from my manager that there’s going to be a photo shoot for People next week, here in LA. Graham has to come for that. He’s the best-looking guy in the cast, which people might not know if they only see the movie—his character is a flaming nerd. Nothing like the real Graham. Well, I take that back. Graham can be nerdy, but it’s endearing, in that he-still-seems-innocent sort of way. Until you get a load of those gorgeous brown eyes staring into yours and you forget what you were just thinking. Because those eyes are not innocent.
Shit. Shake it off, Brooke.
Me: Hey handsome. Heard about the photo shoot next week?
Graham: Yeah, just heard from emma, and then my agent called and told me.
Me: I didn’t know you were still in contact with emma.
Son. Of. A. Bitch. He’s talking to Emma? When the hell did that happen? I’d hoped he’d gotten that little thing he had for her out of his system months ago. He hasn’t mentioned a damned thing about her lately. Plus, there have been intermittent rumors about Emma and Reid hooking up ever since we quit filming, though I suspect that’s all crap—none of them included any new photos.
Graham: I ran into her yesterday
Me: Ran into her, like in nyc?
Graham: Yeah. I had cara with me.
Me: Oh shit. Did she suspect?
Graham: I told her. Well actually cara told her, by calling me daddy.
My brain feels like it’s on speed. He ran into Emma. In New York. When does that ever happen? Okay, time to reassess. Emma finding out about Cara could be a good thing—just another wall between them—her on one side, me on the other. With him. I understand Graham in a way no one else can. I’ve been patient, waiting for him to see what could be between us, and he’s been playing typical clueless guy. Time to step it up. I am not letting Emma back in there.
Me: Wow, how did that go?
Graham: Pretty well, actually.
I wait for more and of course there’s nothing, because in addition to the tall, dark and hot thing Graham’s got going on, he’s also infuriatingly close-mouthed. About everything. I’ve had dozens of conversations with him where I feel like we really communicated. Then later, I realize that nearly everything he contributed was a question or an observation on something I said. That he’d not actually revealed much, if anything.
Like I said—infuriating. And so frustrating. In that mouth-watering sort of way.
Me: I guess I’ll see you in less than two weeks, then <3
Graham: Cool, see you then.
Decisions, decisions. How to handle this little glitch…
Two things stood between Graham and Emma getting together during the months on location: Reid’s all-out pursuit of her, and my pretense that something was going on between Graham and me. Graham and Emma are similar in one glaring way—neither of them will stage a shit-fit throw-down territory dispute.
When Reid kissed Emma during that concert, it was like a freaking miracle. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Hell yes it is. It wasn’t like I set out to hurt Graham. I mean, Emma and Reid were kissing—that was a fact. I was just being protective, sending him that picture. So he’d know what was going on. I couldn’t have asked for a better response. He didn’t say another word about her. Before, he’d driven me up the wall with occasional tidbits of Emma-related nonsense.
Convincing Emma that Graham and I had a thing going was relatively easy. He and I have been friends for so long, and I was in such a state at having to work around Reid after not laying eyes on him in person for years. All I had to do was play up the I’m so fragile act a bit, and the whole freaking cast thought Graham and I were screwing each other.
I wish.
Graham made it obvious from the start of our relationship that we could be friends, but he wasn’t interested in anything more. I’ve never been sure why that was. At first, I think he just noticed the desperate way I felt about everything. Right after Reid broke up with me, I was raw. I was needy. I was pissed as hell. I would conclude that all that stuff scared Graham, but I don’t think that’s true or he wouldn’t have become my friend. It was like he saw my damage and knew instinctively to avoid getting tangled up in it.
But I’m better now. I know what I want. And what I want is Graham.
*** *** ***
REID
Brooke: Hey ass**le, we need to chat
Me: Aww, how could i ignore such a sweet appeal? What do you want.
Brooke: I have a proposition. Come over.
Me: Not interested. But thanks for thinking of me.
Brooke: NOT that kind of proposition, you freak. This has to do with Emma.
Me: I’m both intrigued and suspicious.
Brooke: Trust me, what i have in mind will benefit us both.
Me: No way in hell i trust you. But i’m too curious for my own good.
“You’ve got five minutes to convince me to listen to anything further, so spill it.” When she opens the door, I walk in talking. Her apartment is stunning, second only to her. She’s wearing tiny white shorts and a violet halter tank, showcasing her warm skin and sleek blonde hair. My intent is to avoid staring at her directly as much as possible. She’s like Medusa—the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on, and also the most personally dangerous.
I’m a little afraid that she’d kill me if she thought she could get away with it.
I walk into her monochromatic living room, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view to die for, and drop onto her white leather sofa, letting my head fall back and staring at the ceiling. So far, so not dead. She sits across from me in a black club chair, crossing her perfectly toned legs but not speaking. If she thinks I’m dragging whatever this is out of her, she can think again.