Chapter Eleven

 

Mercy

 

As soon as the heavy door slams shut behind Abe’s enormous frame, an unusual nervous tingle causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.

I know I’m being ridiculous, but what if Abe was right and one of the people in this room is my psycho stalker? No, that’s impossible. These men don’t even know me…

“Smile, Mercy,” Cyrus, the show’s photographer directs me when I don’t realize that my fake smile slipped.

I paste the smile back on my face and turn this way and that at his direction while sneaking glimpses of the guys around me. While they’re all indisputably handsome, none of them really spark my interest. They seem so…small. I’m guessing most are around six feet tall; but after being around a giant the last few days, none of them look like they add up to him. And I’m not just thinking about height either.

The vibe I get from most of these guys without them speaking a word is that they’re…pretentious and arrogant, sort of like how Blake was. And while confidence in a man is sexy, too much can make them think they’re god’s gift to women. Those would be the cheaters, as my mom would point out.

What vibe do I get around Abe? Well, every time he sees me, his eyes go so dark that he looks like he’s seconds away from tearing off my clothes and slamming me against the nearest hard surface.

Not that I mind.

And I know exactly how damn good he is at what happens after clothes are removed from the equation. Except…I didn’t get to see him without his clothes on. Which is pretty disappointing. Our first time was pretty much all about me.

First time?

I say that like there will be a second time when there can’t be, especially since Abe hasn’t actually said he wants to be with me again or tried to touch me. I could be completely wrong about the way he looks at me, seeing something that’s not really there.

Besides, as soon as the show starts filming tomorrow night, I’m not allowed to date anyone. At least not publicly, since a photo of me with a man who is not on the show being published in a tabloid would kill the illusion of the show — that I’m here to find love. And I am going to try to find love, as well as abide by that contract. I need the money to pay not just my bills, but my mother’s as well. When my mom and I went to Europe like she’s always dreamed of, I splurged maybe a little too much, so my savings is quickly becoming depleted. It seemed like a necessary expense at the time to allow me to keep moving so that I wouldn’t have time to think about a certain heartbreaker.

Surprisingly enough, being back here on the photoshoot set where I first saw Blake isn’t bringing up as many memories as I thought it would. Guess I have my stalker to thank for that, since my thoughts have been centered around whoever has been watching me and going through my trash. My safety right now takes precedence over falling for a man, believing everything he told me was true, and then getting crushed when I realized how wrong about him I truly was. I’m starting to think that what Blake did hurt me even more because he turned things around to make himself look better. He was leading me on, but turned the tables on me by saying he suddenly realized I was fake and bad in bed when he was just covering his ass for sleeping with two women without them knowing about it for weeks!

Well, screw that man. Not that I would ever lower myself to his level by going public with it, but sex with Blake was less fulfilling than my alone time with my battery-operated bullet. He could seriously learn a few things from Abe.

“Perfect!” Cyrus exclaims, pulling me back into the shoot. “In that last shot, your smile was so brilliant it could have lit up a city in a blackout,” he tells me as he looks down at the camera in his hands and scrolls through the images. “I think we’re done for the day, guys. Great work!”

“Thanks,” I tell him as I break away from the group of men. I give a wave to them and say, “Bye guys. See you tomorrow,” before I hightail it out of there. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck finally relax as soon as I’m clear of the room and see Abe standing with his back holding up the wall.

“Finally finished?” he asks when he looks up and sees me, pushing away from his position.

“Yep. Let’s go home,” I say on a sigh.

“Hell yes,” Abe replies while cracking his knuckles.

I debate telling him about the odd feeling I had after he left but figure I’m just being ridiculous. “I just need to change really quick,” I say as I go over and turn the doorknob for my dressing room.

“I’ll come with you,” Abe offers, following close behind me.

“You can stay here,” I tell him with a grin before I disappear inside.