Page 62 of Hate To Be Mine

He hadn’t seen me yet, but he would soon enough and I didn’t want to look like a freak ogling him from the bushes.

“Hey,” I called out like a normal person and not a creeper. “What are you doing?”

He looked over, still catching his breath. “Running.”

“I can see that. Why?”

He walked over, and I tried very hard to look at his face and not at his abs that rippled. That was not a six-pack. That was definitely an eight-pack. The billboards were not airbrushed. It was all very real.

“I gained two pounds,” he said, completely serious. “I’m a big fat blimp now. Beer and bacon get me every time.”

I actually laughed. “Oh my God. You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious. Two pounds! At this rate, I’ll need to buy new pants.”

“You look exactly the same as you did when we got here. Better even, with the tan.”

“You’re just being nice.” But he was smiling now. “Although the tan is pretty good, isn’t it?”

There was the cocky bastard I’d first met. It was funny how he could switch between insecure model and confident charmer in seconds. Like neither one was completely real, or maybe they both were.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll have a smoothie instead of actual food. That’s healthy, right?”

“Relatively. A smoothie sounds better than this rabbit food. I can’t believe these women actually live on this. There’s no dressing or cheese or anything. It’s lettuce. Just lettuce.”

He reached out his hand and helped me to my feet. “We usually put lemon juice on it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, that definitely makes it better.”

We walked to the craft services tent together. Cookie was there, organizing supplies.

“Cookie,” Sebastian said with his most charming smile. “Can you make me one of your famous smoothies? Something green and nutritious that’ll make me feel like I’m not slowly destroying my body?”

She laughed and started pulling out ingredients—spinach, mango, and protein powder. I watched her blend it all together, the whir of the machine loud in the relative quiet of the tent.

When she handed Sebastian the smoothie, he took a long drink and made appreciative noises. “You’re a goddess, Cookie. A green smoothie goddess.”

“Oh, stop,” she said, but she was smiling.

I waited for her to offer to make one for me. She didn’t. Just went back to organizing supplies like I wasn’t standing right there.

Sebastian noticed. I could see it in the way his smile faltered slightly, the way his eyes flicked between me and Cookie.

“It’s fine,” I said quietly. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

It wasn’t fine. It stung. But making a scene about it would only make things worse.

We walked back toward the shoot location, Sebastian sipping his smoothie, both of us not quite knowing what to say.

“She’ll come around,” he said finally. “She’s just protective.”

“I know.”

“I could talk to her.”

“No. Don’t.” I shook my head. “It’ll make it worse. She needs to come around on her own terms.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but didn’t. We stood there in awkward silence for a moment before he got called away by one of the photographers. I watched him go, smoothie in hand, still shirtless because apparently he was trying to kill me.