Page 51 of Knot Their Starlet

“Guess so.”

“Don’t worry, I can say that ‘cause I’m part of the club too. Though, I guess my Daddy issues come from not really knowing my dad,” I shrug.

“Really? He wasn’t...” Elijah tilts his head, pausing like he’s trying to find a tactful way to ask what he wants to ask.

First time for everything, I guess. Subtle is the last adjective I would use to describe the guy, but I appreciate him trying.

I match his pose, crossing my arms over my chest, the silk fabric of the robe brushing up against my bare breasts with the motion, reminding me that there’s only one thin layer of fabric between me and the ridiculously hot man standing in front of me.

When he’s not being a dick, I can actually slow down and take in how unfairly attractive he is.

“He never hurt me, if that’s what you’re asking,” I answer. “I’m sure you know what happened between him and my mom, though. It’s why she left and took me. Haven’t seen him since.”

“How old were you?” he asks.

“You’re so chatty now,” I huff. “I was maybe six or seven? I don’t remember a lot from my childhood.”

“Me neither. Far prefer being an adult, so why try to remember shitty times.”

“Exactly.” I nod.

I don’t know if I’d call myself happy right now, but I far prefer the little bits of control over my life I’ve been able to carve out for myself than the way I grew up, always monitored by my mom or her team.

“I think this conversation needed to happen. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s shown me we can talk without biting each other’s heads off,” I say, straightening my posture.

“You’re not how I thought you were,” Elijah says, nodding slowly.

“What, did you think I was some spoiled brat?”

He just shrugs, not bothering to answer.

I roll my eyes. Okay, maybe things aren’t going to be perfect.

“We have to set aside our differences, okay? I’m going to have to do things like this photoshoot again. Beck and I need to sell our ‘relationship,’ there’s nothing I can do about that,” I say, using air quotes.

Elijah offers me another one of his slow nods. I wish I could know what he’s thinking right now.

Actually, considering the shit he’s said to me before, maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe silence is better. Eye candy without the sour surprise that is his personality.

“Not like today,” Leo murmurs from behind me.

“What?” I ask, spinning on my heel, my brows drawn down in confusion.

“Why do you look so shocked?” he asks, his dark eyes roving across my face. “What you just went through in there? That shit was terrible. That fucked up photographer asked you to strip, and anyone with a nose could tell you didn’t want to.”

“Really?” I ask, wiping my sweaty palms on the silk of my robe. Why does Leo sound upset? He seems like the most even-keeled of all the guys. Did I fuck up that badly? “I thought they put de-scenter in the stuff they use to airbrush us. Sorry, I⁠—”

“That’s not the point, Andi,” he says. “Does that kind of stuff happen often?”

“It was pretty fucked up,” Eli agrees slowly.

I glance between the two of them before throwing my hands up in the air.

“Now I feel like I’m being ganged up on! It happens every now and then. Some photographers or directors are creepy motherfuckers. I don’t know why you’re getting mad at me.”

Leo’s expression only gets more intense.

“We’re not mad at you. We’re mad at the situation.”