Page 45 of Knot Their Starlet

CHAPTER 10

Elijah

Ican’t fucking take this.

I’m the biggest fucking pussy I know.

I’m a disgrace to my family’s name. I’m a disgusting piece of shit who can’t even control his own feelings.

My fucking father was right.

I’m in love with my best friend.

And I shouldn’t be.

I don’t know when the hell these feelings started. But I’ve been banishing them to the darkest corners of my brain for a very long time.

Beck and his family saved me. I spent more nights at his house growing up than I did at my own. When I started getting older, I couldn’t be at home when my father was in one of his drunken stupors, because his target shifted from my mom to me. I count my blessings every night that he never turned physical with my younger sister.

Maybe Beck and I could’ve made something serious happen between us if everything had been different. If we had moved far away from our tiny ass town. Far enough away that my father would never hear about how his only son was the kind of slur he threw around like candy on Halloween.

Life is fucking cruel.

It’s like the moment I was given exactly what I fucking wanted when Beck presented—an excuse to be more than friends—his fame automatically took it away. With the way the media seems ready to fucking tear him apart, the last thing I want is to fuck up his dreams or put him in an unsafe situation.

“Eli! Fucking hell, why are your legs so long?” Beck hisses, jogging after me.

My jaw works as my eyes drag up his shirtless form. Whatever they did makes him look like he just walked out of a magazine.

Makes sense, considering these photos are going to be used in shit like that.

His skin glows, even in the harsh fluorescent lights from above.

There’s a twinge of deep-rooted satisfaction that settles in my throat at the sight of him running after me.

He picked me.

Not that omega.

Andromeda Sterling.

She’s the kind of omega someone in show business, like Beck, should be actually dating. It’s why we’re doing this whole sham of a fake relationship.

The media’s opinion on her is as clear as day: she’s a nepo-baby born with a silver spoon in those pouty lips of hers. There’s this steely confidence that throws me off whenever I talk to her. Something about it just pisses me the fuck off.

Something about her just pisses me the fuck off.

Like how fucking hard I was watching her press her perky tits against Beck’s chest, her back arched and her hair falling down her back like a waterfall.

They look good together.

And it fucking eats me up inside.

Because Andromeda gets to have Beck without even fucking trying. Without having to do anything to earn the blessing of Beck’s presence. He’s everything that I’m not. Warm. Considerate. Good to the bone.

“Earth to Eli,” Beck huffs, reaching up and tapping against my cheek.

The impact jolts me back to reality. My chest is heaving. When did I get out of breath?