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“My life is what I was born into. I won’t apologize for what I have.”
He shrugged. “Never asked you to.”
“Then why are you acting like I’ve done something wrong?” I asked angrily.
He grinned at me just as the car came to a stop. “It’s showtime.”
Before I could berate him for acting so jealous, he was out the door and walking around to my side. I watched in astonishment as he raised his hand and waved at the photographers. He was a nobody. Why were they all taking pictures of him?
I pursed my lips as I waited for him to open my door. He was taking his sweet time, soaking in the attention while I stewed in the car. I was just about to shove the door open when he turned and did it for me. He must have seen the steely look on my face because he immediately ducked his head down and leaned in.
“Relax. I was making sure it was secure.”
“Secure, my ass,” I muttered as I took his hand that he finally offered. Stepping out, I smiled at the photographers, keeping to myself like I always did as we ascended the stairs.
“I thought you loved this shit,” Brock said through a smile.
“I also know how to keep the photographers right where I want them.”
“Wren!” one of them shouted. “Where’s Bryce tonight? Are the rumors true?”
I continued to smile as Brock led me through the open door. Once inside, away from the flashes, I finally let my smile drop. “It took you long enough to get me.”
“Yes, hurrying into a crowd to smile for a few cameras is more important than making sure you’re secure.”
I was getting so tired of hearing about the supposed threat. “Let’s just get through tonight.”
I took his arm like I would if he were any other date and allowed him to lead me into the ballroom.
“That gown is a lot fucking tighter than you normally wear,” he whispered.
“Jealous that I didn’t wear it for you?”
“Then who did you wear it for? That douchebag that cheated on you?”
“We have an open relationship,” I said through gritted teeth. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He snorted in response. “An open relationship. Yeah, he’s a real winner.”
“And I suppose you think you’re so much better?”
“I would never fucking sleep with anyone else if I had you in my bed.”
His declaration took me by surprise. I stopped, staring at him curiously.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s just…you don’t seem like a one-woman kind of guy.”
“I—well, there was this one time, but…”
“But what? You’re a man, so it was alright for you to sleep with two women?”
“It wasn’t exactly like that.”
“Then how was it?” I retorted, tired of his self-righteous attitude.
“It was—I didn’t actually—” He sighed in frustration. “It’s complicated.”
