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My heart began to thump behind my ribcage again. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying the contract isn’t working for us anymore because the terms have changed. This? What we have? Wasn’t supposed to go beyond money and hotel rooms. And now we’re here, in this place where we have to stop pretending that we haven’t pictured a future with one another. And I’m not talking wedding bells, but fuck, I want to bring you around. I want to introduce you to people who mean the most to me. I want to call Ms. Kelly and Pops, and tell them, at least for now, they don’t have to worry about me—I’m good.” He tugged on his earring again, and I feared he’d rip it out if he pulled any harder.

“Hart—”

“It’s fast. I fucking know that, Vera. But fast doesn’t mean wrong. I want you, Vera, and not as my sugar baby, but as my girlfriend.”

“You’re serious?” I whispered.

“Serious enough that I’ll gladly take an ass-whooping from your brother.”

I laughed as tears blurred my vision because I could picture it.

“It was the frogs, wasn’t it?” I asked.

Confusion flickered across Hart’s face for a second before he smiled. He shook his head. “It started with you showing up for me at Andre’s,” he confessed. “The frogs sealed the deal.”

“I need you to be sure, Hart, because I run the strictest program.”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I’m aware that at some point I might have to replace the windshield in my Bronco.”

I shook my head. “If it gets that far, then it means you embarrassed me. Let me be clear, Hartford. I do not do second chances. If you cheat on me, I’m gone. I don’t care what stage we are at. I’m not staying for the multi million-dollar contract and endorsements, the mansion, or the kids. I don’t care how much love I have for you, how sorry you are, or how much history and happy memories we shared; I’m gone. No therapy. No legal separation while we rebuild trust. I’m just… gone.” He nodded, as if he understood the gravity of the situation. “Emotional cheating is also unacceptable. This includes following and interacting with spicy IG models, sexting, and building an emotional romantic connection with another woman. Do you understand?”

“Understood,” he agreed firmly.

“I’m not naïve, Hart. I know there will be temptation everywhere, especially on the road, and I won’t fault you for being tempted; all I can hope is that your feelings for me are enough to keep you from making poor, life-altering decisions.”

Hart reached across the table and placed his hand on top of mine. His thumb caressed my fingers. “I know being with me comes with risks, including public scrutiny. People will have opinions—loud, ignorant, and hateful opinions.” I exhaled loudly, knowing exactly what he meant.

The puck bunnies were about to Megan Markle my ass.

“I’ve never publicly dated anyone during my professional career. The gossip blogs and podcasts will be relentless, and I wouldn’t be shocked if the network picks up on it. If it becomes too much… I’d understand,” he said, giving me an out.

“I don’t scare that easily.”

“I know you don’t, Vera, but even I have days where I just want to disappear.”

Hart’s words hit harder than I had expected. Maybe because I knew exactly what he meant. People liked to pretend online cruelty was harmless or to be expected because it was the internet. And their “solutions” were to “just log off” and grow thicker skin. The ugliness could make even the strongest person question their worth. I believed him when he said he had days when he wanted to disappear because I understood how exhausting it was to be judged by strangers who thought they had your life all figured out.

“I hear you, Hart, and I’ll do my best by trying not to feed the beast.”

“I can imagine your clapbacks will give my agent an aneurysm.”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to worry about that. I won’t let my ego fuck up your bag.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” he muttered, nearly earning a swift kick under the table. “If we do this, then I need to inform my agent and PR.”

I raised a brow. “Soft launch?”

“Flip will want to do a deep dive on your social media. So if you have any tweets or shit that might get us canceled, then you might want to delete that shit.”

“Can I leave up my thirst traps?”

“Take them down.”

“Why? Eighty percent of your page is thirst traps.”

“Aht. Aht. It’s brand alignment.”