Page 40 of Scoring Eden

She swallows. Nods. Swallows again.

It’s showtime, baby.

"THE BROTHERHOOD" GROUP CHAT

Alex: We’re here. Where are you guys?

Roman: Already inside.

Leo: Brynn’s already on her third glass of champagne. She just adopted a blind dog on Coach Carter’s behalf.

Roman: Isn’t he allergic to dogs?

Leo: My wife seems to think a few antihistamines should do the trick.

Roman: Your wife is a lightweight.

Alex: Coming in now.

Roman: Good luck getting past the paps. They’re fucking wild tonight.

Alex: Guess we’ll have to give them a show.

TWELVE

EDEN

Lights blind me the second Alex pulls me from the car. I blink through the spots of color, shielding my face with my hand. It’s instinct. Shitty for optics, but necessary for self-protection. A wave of panic tears through me, and all I want to do is get back in the car.

“Hey.” Alex’s voice somehow pierces through the squawking of the paparazzi. “You’re okay.”

I’m not. The furthest thing from it, actually. But there’s no going back now.

His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me into him, fingers splaying over my ribcage. I step in closer so my entire left side is crushed against his body. Well, to tell the truth, I first try to step behind him with the plan of using him as a human shield, but he keeps me where I am. Upright, straight legs, yet exposed.

“Alex! Who’ve you got with you today?”

“Alex! Who’s your flavor of the month this time?”

“What can you say about the video of you having sex in the stands?”

My nails sink into the fabric of Alex’s jacket, puncturing the lining until they meet skin. What are the chances I could pull out the flask in the pocket without being noticed? I need the liquor. Give me all the liquor.

“You’re good.” The low hum of his voice rumbles against my shoulder as he pretends to press a kiss to it. “We’ve got this. Just relax.”

That’s easy for him to say. He’s done this a thousand times. This for me, however, is diving with great white sharks without a safety cage or the ability to swim.

I put one foot in front of the other, ankles buckling in my heels, and use Alex to anchor my steps. I’m doing a satisfactory job of it until a man shoves a camera in my face. The lens nudges my nose. I falter, suppress a scream, and force a smile that feels more like a snarl.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

My heart lurches into my stomach.

“Are you Alex’s girlfriend? How long have you been seeing each other?”

So many questions. One after the other. Shit, am I supposed to answer them? Ignore him? Introduce myself like I’m the new kid in class and offer an interesting fact about myself?

This is what Alex should have prepared me for. Not our favorite foods and…kissing. Fucking kissing. I may never allow the man to kiss me as penance for his audacity and lack of prior planning.