Chapter 3
I pulled my lip into my mouth as the cursor blinked in the search bar. How bad could it be? I looked at the ceiling before my fingers moved over the keyboard, typing in the words. There could be absolutely nothing under ‘Robert Beckerson Memorial Ice Rink Dedication.’ My eyes fell back to the screen.
Except there was.
The camera phone video was zoomed all the way in, showing me standing on the ice rink, and the video views were at 5,117. I swallowed as I clicked the video so it would play, my blood rushing in my ears. I didn’t actually think anyone would put it online, and I wasn’t sure why I was so intrigued. Thousands of views overnight was nothing; my eyes drifted to the sidebar. Especially not compared to Fade Burn’s video that was popping up under related; over a million hits. I leaned forward, my finger hovering over the mouse as the arrow button hovered over Adam’s. My finger seemed to gain a mind of its own, pressing down, so Adam’s video came up and then began to play. I pulled my earbuds up and put them into my ears with my eyes closed. Adam’s voice echoed in my head. It was the same song he’d used to open the show we broke up at. I inhaled, slowly opening my eyes to find West sitting in front of me, leaning over the desk so he could see what was playing on the screen.
I yanked the earbuds out, my heart hammering as I hit the ESC key.
West sat back, putting his ankle on his knee, and the words rushed out in a high-pitched voice, “I wasn’t looking for it. It just popped up when I went looking to see if that kid posted a video of me.”
His brows rose into his forehead, green eyes darkening. “I get it.”
“You get it?”
His eyes said otherwise. I knew him well enough to decipher the emerald his eyes turned wasn’t because he ‘got it.’ It upset him.
He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s natural to be curious how an ex is doing.”
“It is?” I replied, shaking my head and then I froze. “Do you look up your exes?”
West chuckled, and the green of his eyes brightened as he stood and came around to rub my shoulders. “Not really.”
I turned in my chair, and he leaned down, putting his hands on the arms of it. “Then how do you know it’s natural?”
His eyes drifted to the ceiling as his muscles flexed, and then his gaze came back to mine. “I was trying to make myself feel better about it.”
“West,” I said, leaning up and putting my hands on either side of his face. His eyes closed, and his muscles relaxed. “I can guarantee that you have nothing to worry about.”
He opened his eyes slowly. “Right now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as he pulled away, moving back to the front of my desk.
He put his hands up. “Ignore me. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed with filming starting again. Anything I say and do is up for question.”
I heaved a sigh, standing and going to sit in his lap. I ran my fingers through his hair. “I do worry about Adam– after the way I left things — and the way things ended with Tara. I guess I was just curious how he’s doing.”
“But a music video doesn’t answer that,” West replied, looking up at me.
“He’s more popular than me,” I said, smiling down at him. “But I do have over five thousand views.”
His eyes narrowed, and his lip ring pulled into his mouth as he bit his lip. “Our kiss or you singing?”
“Singing. The kiss probably has a hell of a lot more, especially if anyone figured out who you are,” I replied, leaning down and putting my finger over his lips, so it was the only thing separating us.
“Oh, right. I’m famous, too. I almost forgot– except I’ve had a camera shoved in my face all day,” he said, and his muscles tightened again.
“That bad?” I asked as I stood up after catching Charlie wiggling her eyebrows at me suggestively through the glass. My office was a fish tank in the middle of the open office setup, and sometimes I forgot how little privacy there was.
West’s hand ran over the dirty blond scruff on his chin. “Just a bit much. Getting back into the swing of things is hard. We’re told to act natural, but then they give us scenarios.” He used air quotes for the last part. “They go out and find us clients. Honestly, we have enough clients between what’s scheduled and walk-ins.”
“How long do you film for?” I asked as I sat in the chair next to him and entwined our fingers.
“A few months. The first show will air around Thanksgiving, though,” he replied, putting his head in his hand, and looking every inch of his nickname ‘Beck.’ It was a natural pose for him, but it definitely had that David Beckham quality that earned him the name.
“That’s exciting,” I replied, squeezing his hand.
“You’re not going to watch it are you?” he asked, his head coming up.
“You don’t?”
He shook his head. “No. I have no interest in seeing how they portray my life in some dramatized craziness that it’s not. I’m not all that interesting. They tend to take whomever I’m dating and try to make that into a big deal — which reminds me, you might want to stay away from the shop for a while. Unless you really want that thing going viral.”
His finger pointed to the computer.
“I’m good with a few thousand hits,” I said.
“Sure you don’t want to be the next Shawn Mendez?” West asked, his eyebrows going up and down as a smirk came to his thin lips.
I leaned towards him. “I’m pretty sure there’s only room for one famous person in this relationship. I mean your ego is pretty large.”
West’s hand came up to my chin, tilting it up to graze his lips over mine. “That’s all an act.”
“You know you’re pretty,” I replied, my voice a breathy whisper.
His thumb ran over my lower lip. “Am I now?”
“And rich,” I added.
“Which reminds me, what do you want for your birthday — perhaps something to replace your soccer mom car?” West asked, wrinkling his nose at me.
I pulled away, huffing and crossing my arms as I looked straight ahead. He stood in response, coming into my line of vision and leaning back against my desk.
Another easy model pose. I blinked at him a few times, my lips pursed.
“My Civic SI is not a mommy car.”
“You just keep telling yourself that,” he replied with a wink.
I rolled my eyes. “Besides, we need something to transport the dogs around in.”
“There are luxury sedans,” West said, pointing at me as he cocked his head.
“Yeah, but when your Audi’s tranny blows, it will cost what my car is worth to fix,” I reminded him, giving him a toothless smile.
He shrugged, his hands finding the edge of my desk. “I’m rich. I’ll just get a new one.”
“Ha ha.”
“But seriously, Riv — what would you like for your birthday?”
“Honestly,” I said, standing and putting my hands behind his neck. “I don’t care as long as I get to spend it being happy with you.”
West’s forehead dipped down to mine as he put his hands on my waist. “Your wish is my command.”