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I step next to her, cross my arms, and stare down Ike. He stops midsentence and looks up at me. Fear flickers across his face, which, I’ll admit, is very good for my ego. I doubt Laker Brad has that effect on people.
“She hurt her ankle.” I hover over him, and he takes a step back. “She shouldn’t even be wearing those stupid boots, let alone heels. She probably shouldn’t even be here, but she didn’t want to mess up the schedule.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry!” Ike puts up his hands at the same time Georgia pushes me out of the way.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She shoots me a glare, then turns back to Ike. “I’ll be fine in another day or two. Let’s just do waist-up shots until the swelling has gone down enough for me to get heels on.”
I scoff. “Or wear construction site-appropriate shoes before you kill yourself.”
Then both she and Ike are glaring at me. I know Georgia’s not going to be reasonable about her safety, so I appeal to Ike. “Why can’t she just be herself? She’s going to get hurt wearing heels.”
“It’s her brand.” Ike looks at me like I’m crazy, and Georgia moves between us.
“I’ve got this Zach,” she says through gritted teeth. “I don’t need your help.”
I put up my hands and back away. “Got it. I’ll keep my mouth shut. You can just use me as a crutch.”
Her face softens. “Zach, come on…”
I walk away, through the doorway and down the sidewalk. I don’t go far. I’m not running away or anything. I just need some air. I need to think.
Georgia’s message is loud and clear. She can take care of herself. She doesn’t need me. And I can’t even be mad about it. I’m the one who gushed about how her independence makes her pretty.
And it does.
The only problem is what I’ve learned over the past couple years from helping with Mom. I like taking care of people. I’m good at it.
But Georgia doesn’t want it.
At least not from me.
Chapter 27
Georgia
I only meant to keep Zach at arm’s length, not chase him away. Now he’s outside, probably texting Carly, while I try to pretend I don’t want to run after him and tell him thank you for wanting to take care of me. He’s got this protective streak that I’ve always loved, but I don’t want it directed my way.
I can’t stop imagining what it would be like if Zach really had feelings for me. If he loved me the way he does Carly. The impractical, dreamer part of my brain keeps trying to convince me it might be a possibility. But my rational brain knows the truth.
If I could go back to seeing Zach as just a friend, he could protect me all he wants. But I want more. And I know I can’t have it. It’s only a matter of time until he finds someone new. Or, worse, gets back together with Carly.
I saw the text she sent him. But even before I saw her name, the look on his face said everything. His mouth turned down with hurt, but his eyes held a flicker of hope. The message had to be from Carly.
That didn’t stop me from crossing the room to peek over his shoulder and confirm my suspicions. I didn’t see the whole text, just her name andforgive me.
Carly may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but there’s no way she’s dumb enough not to try to get Zach back. He’s the whole package. Sweet, smart, and smoking hot.
And so much more than that.
Which is why I can’t let him be my protector. That’s a boyfriend’s job, not a best friend’s. He’s got to save those instincts for the screen. And for my own sanity, I need a clear demarcation line between Friend Zach and Pretending-to-be-Falling-for-Me Zach.
Forget my sanity—clearly, I’m already crazy for letting myself fall in love with Zach. Nope. Too late to safeguard anything but my heart.
All while “pretending” to be falling in love with Zach.
When Zach comes back inside, he still looks upset. Maybe I really hurt his feelings. More likely, the text from Carly said more than justforgive me.Something less conciliatory.
Ike directs us to stand close but then walks away to check the camera angles and lighting. Just in case I’m the one he’s most upset with, I lean close to whisper, “I’m sorry.”
