“Just mingle with me for a little while, and then maybe we can sneak out,” I whispered, my hand covering my stomach as we moved into the room.

  People were starting to notice us, though they made an effort to make it seem they weren’t. Thank god I’d brought Soren. I couldn’t imagine walking into this viper’s den alone. I had yet to see a familiar face, though I recognized a few from magazine covers. None of those faces seemed particularly welcoming either.

  Soren leaned in. “Take a drink. It will help.” When I took a sip of my champagne, Soren took a drink of his too. “You’re going to leave your jacket on, right?” He shot a thumbs-up at a couple of guys looking at me and whispering to each other. I thought they were a couple of photographers.

  “Soren,” I sighed.

  “Just . . . I can take a few guys at a time. A dozen of these kind, no problem.” Soren’s eyes landed on a group of guys wearing matching polka-dot bow ties with their tuxes. “But I don’t really feel like being held down and glittered to death.”

  He held his champagne glass in the direction of a guy whose tux looked like it had been hand-done in gold glitter. We’re talking the kind of stuff kids love to get their hands on and make a mess with. That kind of glitter. This was my first industry party, but I supposed I should have known formalwear had a generous definition in this group.

  “So, yeah. Guess I could have gone with that powder blue tux I was really itching for, right?”

  “But at least you look like James Bond instead of Peter Pan,” I whispered.

  He choked on a laugh. “This whole night, totally worth it now.”

  “What’s so funny?” My face went blank as Ellis appeared from behind me. He was dressed in a tux similar to Soren’s, though his was clearly custom tailored and had probably cost as much as the hybrid Soren was planning on one day cruising in. Ellis waited, a measured smile on his face, his eyes aimed on me.

  “Me. I’m so funny,” Soren answered.

  Ellis’s attention drifted to Soren, appraising him like he was an inconvenience. “What’s so funny about you?”

  Soren circled his face with his champagne glass. “The way I look.”

  A laugh choked out of me, making an unattractive sound.

  Soren nudged me. “Nice of you to agree. Friend.”

  Ellis didn’t seem to find anything amusing about our interaction. “Ellis Lawson.” He held out his left hand for Soren, which meant Soren had to unwind his right arm from me.

  “Soren Decker.”

  “The roommate.”

  “The agent.”

  The way their hands seemed locked in some kind of death grip had me shifting. Testosterone was literally seeping from their pores from the tension I could feel building in the air.

  What was going on?

  “What is it you do for a living?” Ellis slid his hand into his pocket, making a point to stretch every inch of his six-foot-four frame. “Hayden never talks about you much.”

  Soren gave me a good-natured raised-brow look. “I go to school. Work part-time at a pub.”

  Ellis’s head tipped. “NYU?”

  Soren huffed. “Just one of those regular ol’ community colleges.”

  “Soren plays baseball,” I interjected. “He’s really good.” When I glanced at him, I found him staring at me, a hint of a smile in place.

  “I’m sure he is.” Ellis took a sip from his drink, eyeing the arm Soren was linking through mine again. “Hayden, I’d like to introduce you to some friends. Believe me, you’re going to want to meet them.” When we started to follow him, he paused. “Soren, would you mind if I stole your roommate away for a while?”

  Soren wound my arm from his, giving me the go-ahead when I was about to object. “As long as you bring her back.”

  “I’ll bring her back.” Ellis was already guiding me away, his hand on the small of my back. “Eventually,” he added, smiling at me.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I found Soren in the same place we’d left him, watching. In a roomful of people, he stood out. In this city, he stood out. As different as we might have been and as much as we got on each other’s nerves, I was drawn to him. From the look on his face as I walked away, I was starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just me who felt that way.

  Ellis introduced me to so many people, my head was spinning with names and titles. Everyone seemed eager enough to meet me, a few of them referring to me as Ellis Lawson’s latest “it” girl. A few of them said that like it hinted at more than our professional arrangement, which made me all too eager to make my way back to Soren.

  I felt like a jerk for inviting him to a party and ditching him. He didn’t know anyone here, and the only thing he had in common with them was the state they resided in. He seemed to be mixing it up okay though. Every time I managed to catch of glimpse of him, he was chatting with someone or charming the sequins off some girl.

  When I noticed another woman casually make her way up to him, I felt my hands curl into fists. He was like a model magnet, and please, her? He could do so much better than that.

  And cue the jealousy theme song.

  I hated this trivial, bitchy side of me that had emerged out of nowhere. I’d made it through high school without being reduced to this kind of behavior—so why was it cropping up now?

  Of course I knew the answer to that—Soren. Specifically, my feelings for him.

  “Hayden?” Ellis’s voice cut through the haze. “Hayden?”

  “Yeah? Sorry,” I added, when I realized he’d introduced me to a new group of people I didn’t remember stopping in front of.

  Ellis didn’t miss the reason for my distraction.

  “I hear you’re walking in Fashion Week in Paris. How exciting,” one of the women said, giving the once-over I’d quickly gotten used to in the industry. Similar to the same way a butcher looks at a cut of meat to grade it accordingly.

  “Yes. I can’t wait.” I mustered up the level of excitement I gauged was fitting.

  I was excited, but Ellis had been booking me for a lot lately. Half of the bookings were in places I’d need to travel to. As a model, I’d scored the jackpot, but I was still that Nebraska girl who’d never flown on a plane up until two months ago when I boarded one to fly here.

  Paris. Milan. Buenos Aires. I didn’t even know how to pronounce half the places I was going.

  “And would you look at that dress,” the woman continued, waving at me. “You were made to wear that dress.”

  “It would be even more impactful if she’d lose the jacket,” Ellis added under his breath.

  My tight smile was my answer to that. He’d been suggesting I ditch the jacket all night, but I’d held my ground. It wasn’t like the jacket was a bulky, frumpy thing that didn’t match. I’d made sure to pick the right one to complement the gown.

  “Why not?” he whispered to me while the woman turned to her friends and started speculating on who the designer was.

  “Because I promised someone I’d leave it on tonight.”

  A deep-throated chuckle came from him. “College boy? Community college boy? That’s who you promised?”

  My eyebrows came together. He was getting more brazen with his insults aimed at Soren, and I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to go so out of the way to degrade him.

  “Soren,” I said slowly, my expression serious. “I promised him I’d leave it on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the dress is a little revealing.” The corner of my mouth lifted when I remembered the way Soren had staggered back a few steps when he saw the back of my dress.

  “You’re a model. You should be used to revealing. A little, a lot, all if need be.” Ellis turned to face me, one dark brow carved into his forehead.

  Warmth drained into my veins. He might have been Ellis Lawson, the man who’d given the world more supermodels than anyone else, but he was still my agent. I had to remind myself of that when I felt him trying to hold his position over me.

 
“I’m not a model right now. I’m me. Hayden.” I blinked at him, my hand going to my chest. “My life as a model is different from my real life.”

  He chuckled, clinking his glass against mine. “Forgive me. I forget you’re still in the idealistic phase of the business.” Before I could say anything, he lifted his glass in Soren’s direction. “I’m only saying this because I’m your agent and have your best interest at heart, but it concerns me when I see this kind of controlling behavior. Even if it’s only in the form of a jacket staying in place throughout the night. That’s how it starts.” Ellis scanned the jacket wrapped around me like it was a pair of shackles. “Tonight, he’s telling you to keep your coat on so no one can see your body. Next month, he’s ordering you to stay home so no one can see you at all. It’s not healthy, and I’ve seen too many models fall into controlling relationships.”

  I’d only finished one glass of champagne, so it couldn’t be the alcohol messing with my head. But surely I hadn’t heard him right. Only one way to find out.

  “Controlling relationship?” I repeated the term I thought I’d heard. “He’s my roommate. We’re not in a relationship.”

  Ellis steered me away from the women still going on about my dress and leaned in closer than seemed necessary. “You might look at him and see a roommate.” His hot breath coated the side of my cheek, his hand adhering to my back again. “But when he looks at you, it isn’t a roommate he sees.”

  As if Soren knew we were talking about him, he glanced over. He seemed to know exactly where I was in the room full of people. He didn’t wave or wink, tip his head or smile, but something in his eyes acknowledged me; something in them that had my lungs petrifying for half a breath.

  He looked away a moment later, but it took me a while longer to recover.

  “How does he look at me?” I whispered, but Ellis was meandering away. “How does he look at me?” I repeated, louder this time.

  Ellis glanced over his shoulder, a gleam in his eye. A gleam. What was I supposed to do with that?

  “Think I’m okay to impose my existence on you now?” Soren shouldered up beside me, holding out a fresh glass of champagne and taking my empty one.

  I shot him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. For dragging you here and then ditching you.”

  “It’s all good. I’m an expert at mingling.”

  Something on his cheek caught my attention. Lipstick.

  “Yeah, mingling.” My eyes narrowed as I scanned the room, searching for the lips that matched the shade on his cheek.

  “You okay?”

  Why was I so upset? Why was my blood boiling? Why was I still staring at the mark on his cheek?

  “I want to leave,” I announced before chugging the fresh glass of champagne as I whisked out of the room.

  “I’m on board with that decision. This bow tie feels like a noose.” Soren pulled at his collar and bow tie, falling into step beside me.

  We were almost out of the ballroom when someone stepped in our path. Well, she stepped into his path.

  Matching lip girl.

  Jealousy felt like a living thing inside me right then. A putrid, crippling stew of tar-like substance. She was obviously a model, but not one I recognized. I found myself targeting in on her every flaw as she rested her hand on his chest, laughing about something he’d just said.

  I was bigger than this. Better than reducing myself into a spiteful, bitter person who pinpointed the flaws in others.

  “I’ll meet you outside.” I shoved by them, dropping my empty glass on one of the serving trays at the doorway. “Take your time.”

  I was still wincing as I whisked down the hall toward the doorway. It was one thing to think the thoughts of a raging bitch and another to vocalize them. By the time I’d made it through the front door, I heard his steps jogging behind me. He even called my name a few times, but I kept moving. I couldn’t let him see the emotion on my face, the hurt in my eyes. I had to recompose myself before I let him see me.

  “Hayden!” His footsteps pounded across the concrete walkway, catching up to me.

  I focused on hailing one of the cabs waiting in a line in the driveway.

  He paused beside me, his breath coming quickly from his chase. “What was that about?”

  Sniffing, I crossed my arms, still gazing down the driveway. “What was what about?”

  “Back there? That crazy shrew moment?”

  Shrugging, I played it off. “What? I wanted to let you know I’d be waiting out here.” When I glanced over, I noticed a folded napkin in his hands, and I could just make out some numbers on it. I swore I felt like there was a volcano about to blow inside me. “Since your new friend clearly couldn’t let you go so soon.”

  “My new friend?” He pulled the cab door open when it stopped in front of us. “Are you talking about Penelope?”

  Penelope. Who named their kid Penelope? Who lived their life being called that every day instead of getting a name change?

  Oh, god. My inner bitch was really having a field day.

  If you don’t have anything nice to say, just don’t say anything at all. I could hear my mom’s words echo in my mind. She’d raised me up better than this. Better than some insecure-acting girl who thought mean things about total strangers.

  “Do you know her or something?” he asked.

  I slid across the backseat of the cab, burrowing against the far door. “No. But it looked like you were getting pretty comfortable with her.”

  As Soren entered the cab, he appraised me with a look that suggested I was an injured wild animal. “Oh-kay. There’s something I’m missing here. And I’m a guy, so I’m going to need you to spell it out for me. Slowly. In small words.”

  I knew better than to open my mouth without counting to ten first. At least I was learning how to tame my inner “shrew.”

  “You’re not missing anything,” I said slowly. “I was just making an observation. Looked like you two were good friends.”

  The skin between Soren’s eyes creased as he finished giving the address to the driver. “Let’s see. I know her name, that she loves using the word like every other breath, that she’s a born-again vegan—whatever that is—and thinks people who wear fur should be burned at the stake. Oh, and she once dated some guy whose name I can’t remember anymore, but she said it like it was one of those names I should know.”

  I made a sound with my mouth. One of those really mature ones a teenager gave their parents when they were being lectured. “You know something else about her too.” My eyes dropped to the napkin still clutched in his hand.

  “Oh, yeah. Her number.” He unfolded it and held it out for me.

  My arms stayed folded around myself. She’d planted her lips on the napkin too.

  “She said we should get together some time and ‘hang out.’” He did the air quote thing, his brows moving in time with his fingers.

  She’d just met the guy and was already throwing around her number and suggestions for “hanging out.” What kind of guy did she think Soren was? He wasn’t that type . . . was he? My stomach churned, the champagne bubbling inside not helping the situation. I could feel the two glasses I’d had on an empty stomach bleeding into my system, fogging my head and relaxing my body. “You know what that means, right? Hanging out?”

  “She wants to use my body for vulgar purposes?” When my mouth dropped open, he chuckled. “Hayden, relax. I’m a big boy. I know the game. It wasn’t like I was born in Hastings, Nebraska, or anything.”

  “You don’t have to make fun of me. I’m just trying to look after you. That kind of girl is only looking for one thing from a guy like you.”

  “Gee, okay, Dad. Thanks for the words of wisdom.” Soren lifted his voice an octave, batting his eyes at me. “Why don’t you just have a chastity belt welded to my special lady parts so no person of ill repute can deflower me?”

  I couldn’t believe he was behaving so childishly. He looked after me—why couldn’t I do the same without being
treated like I was way off base?

  “Can we just not speak to each other for the rest of the ride? I’m getting a headache.” My fingers rubbed my temples, the mix of alcohol, jealousy, and tight corseting making me feel like my head was being attacked by a herd of elephants.

  “Wait. What is this?” Soren’s voice changed, growing serious. He leaned closer, studying my face. “Why do you care who I make ‘friends’ with or who wants to stuff their phone numbers into my hands?” He paused, still studying me.

  I sealed my eyes closed and angled myself toward the door. I didn’t like where he was going with this line of questioning. “Silence, please. Migraine en route.”

  “You have my word that I will seal my lips for the rest of the night as soon as you answer my question.”

  I heard him shift closer. His cologne hit me again, this time combined with the light hint of champagne on his breath and the faint scent of sweat clinging to him. I found myself experiencing that magnetic pull feeling again.

  He wasn’t going to let this go. Soren was as obstinate as I was.

  “I don’t care who you make friends with or who passes you their phone number with their lips stamped all over it.”

  He leaned forward. I twisted farther toward the door. “You’re acting like you care.”

  “You’re pretending that I care. But I don’t.”

  I heard him shift back into his side of the cab. “Wow. Ouch. Okay, good to know. Thanks for clearing that up.” He sniffed, scooting a little farther away. “I’ll keep my mouth shut now.”

  An amoeba? Was there anything lower on the life scale than that? If there was, that’s what I was. That’s what I felt like.

  My whole life, I’d been the mature, responsible one, and now that I was on my own in the big city and falling for some great guy, I’d morphed into a child. Great timing.

  He kept his word the rest of the ride back to the apartment. Not a word. The tension became so thick inside the cab, the driver actually rolled down his window a crack.

  When the driver pulled up in front of the apartment, Soren already had the money ready before I’d checked the fare. After crawling out, he waited beside the door. He didn’t give me his hand to take as he had on the ride to the party, but he waited for me to climb out, and he closed the door behind me once he’d pulled out the hem of my dress.