Page 91 of Hate To Be Mine

I destroyed whatever might have been happening with Bernadette. I ruined it before it even get started.

My phone buzzed.

Snack Buddy: What happened? Are you okay? Do you need to talk?

Elizabeth. Of course she’d already heard. News traveled fast on an island this small.

I typed back with shaking hands: I fucked everything up.

The three dots appeared immediately: I’m coming over.

Me: No. Stay with Adrian. I’ll be fine.

Snack Buddy: Are you sure? You shouldn’t be alone.

Me: I’m good. I would prefer to be alone. But thank you.

Then I turned off my phone and lay in the dark, listening to the sound of the ocean and the distant sound of the crew still celebrating.

Tomorrow was going to be a shitstorm. It wasn’t the legal fallout I was worried about. My mom would be disappointed, but she was still my mom. My brothers, on the other hand, were going to destroy me. I could feel it coming.

32

BERNADETTE

Icouldn’t sleep.

The alcohol I’d consumed with Annika had seemed like a good idea at the time. It started as a way to numb the hurt from Sebastian’s casual dismissal. And then the drinks I had at the party were all about loosening up, having fun, and fitting in.

Turned out, I wasn’t much of a drinker. I certainly had the mechanics down just fine, but my body did not approve.

And now I was paying a high price for it. One good thing about being an unpopular nerd—there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for partying. I could have, but I wasn’t invited out a lot, and the few times I did go out with acquaintances, they were just as geeky as I was. We never really tore up a dance floor or closed down a club.

I was a novice and paying for it. My stomach churned. My head pounded and everything was spinning even when I closed my eyes. It felt like a rodent had crawled into my mouth and died. It was gross and I had no idea how to fix it.

I couldn’t stop replaying what had happened.

I’d been drinking with the crew. Having fun, for once. Feeling included. I had been one of the cool kids. It was fun. The models talked to me. The people that had been on the shoot praised my work. They told me I was beautiful and all the things a girl wanted to hear.

And yes, I had appreciated the attention from the men. Not that I had even considered anything more than just talking with them. I wasn’t even thinking about kissing them. No thanks. It was just nice to be seen and admired. I could definitely see why models tended to be just a little arrogant. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be looked at like that all day by billions of people. It was definitely a head rush and my ego had been thoroughly stroked.

But then there was the downside to being noticed.

Rico had been annoying. Not going to lie, the dude was icky. Attractive, I supposed, but bad vibes rolled off him. He was constantly standing too close, touching my waist, and making comments about how I should let him photograph me privately.

It wasn’t so bad. I was used to creepy guys. Years of working in a male-dominated field had taught me how to deflect and laugh off the obnoxious comments. As a female, I was born with that let-them-down-easy gene. Never offend. Never make them feel like the assholes they were being. I knew how to extract myself from uncomfortable situations.

I’d been about to excuse myself. Was literally opening my mouth to say I was tired and heading to bed when Sebastian had appeared like some kind of avenging angel. Or more accurately, like a barbarian. Storming up, grabbing Rico, his face twisted with rage I’d never seen before.

He’d lost control. Completely. Utterly.

My lady heart was stupidly attracted to his touch-her-and-die thing, but the logical side of me? That bitch was pissed. Miss Logic had outlined about twenty different ways it was a disaster in under a minute.

There were police involved. Citations. Potential fines. The very real possibility that the Miratoan government would shut down the entire production. They got the shots, but they wouldn’t get the runway show.

Everything I worked to prevent was over in one heated moment. Everything I’d tried to protect. Gone, because Sebastian Blackwell couldn’t control his temper for five seconds.

I rolled over, pulling the pillow over my head, trying to block out my thoughts. But they kept coming anyway.