Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
At least Jesse belonged here. He owned this vibe and was in the industry. I wouldn't be surprised if some people in the audience were wearing one of his designs today.
This life was just unreal to me. A life with paparazzi and endless wealth? That only existed in fairy tales, but somehow, I was living right in the middle of one.
Yes, it had a turn me back into a pumpkin deadline, but that was a few months away. For now, I needed to do what Jesse kept telling me to do, which was enjoy the hell out of it while I could. I took a steadying breath, remembering the end game—Brecken would be taken care of after this all ended for me. That’s all that truly mattered.
“Aspen,” Crossland's voice sounded over the calls of the reporters and the chatter around us as we waited our turn on the red carpet.
I scanned the crowd, finally locking eyes with him as he made his way toward us.
He wore a stunning midnight-black suit, each cut of the fabric made specifically for him, with an ice-blue tie that made his eyes pop. His smile beamed, his trimmed goatee shaping his chiseled features as he locked eyes with me, spotting us on the red carpet.
“You made it,” he said as he finally made it to us. He shook Jesse's hand before extending an arm toward me.
And I fell under that arm like a magnet pulled me toward him. The move almost effortless now since we'd done it so much at the wedding.
The same wedding where we’d danced and laughed, and where I swore he got jealous when I spoke to that football player from Weston's team. He’d assured me there was nothing to be jealous of, and I don't know why those words stung, but they had. I'd quickly forced the small hurt away and chalked it up to my own trauma of not feeling like I belonged or being told I wasn't worth the fuss while growing up.
Jesse took a calculated step away as reporters called Crossland's name and asked him who he was with.
I glanced up at Crossland at the same moment he glanced down at me, and it was such an awkward moment that we both started laughing.
“This is my girlfriend, Aspen Reed,” Crossland said without looking at the reporters, holding that irresistible smile of his.
My grin deepened, and my heart expanded despite knowing this was all fake.
But dammit, Crossland said it like he was genuinely proud to have me on his arm.
In reality, he could have any of celebrity or model or heiress on his arm if he wanted. More than one, actually.
But he was here with me.
And regardless of the circumstances, I was going to take that as a win.
After the celebrity ahead of us finished answering questions and moved into the building, Crossland led Jesse and me inside. I breathed a sigh of relief at leaving all the cameras behind.
“You doing, okay?” Crossland asked, leaning down to whisper the question in my ear.
“I'm okay,” I answered honestly. “I'm just not sure I'll ever get used to that kind of attention.”
Crossland’s smile fell, but he nodded. “I know it can be a hassle,” he said. “Especially when you're not used to it.” He shrugged. “It does get easier,” he continued. “But it's never really enjoyable. It's just something you learn to accept overtime. I find I have a camera-ready mask and an I'm with my inner circle mask. It helps if you can compartmentalize the two.”
I tilted my head as we lingered in the entryway. “If that’s the case, then when are you just Crossland?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his hand settling in the small of my back as we crept forward, the crowds of people bottlenecking into the small entryway as they filed out into the much larger event hall where the fashion show would take place.
“You said you have masks,” I said. “Even with your inner circle. I'm just wondering when you're simply you?”
“Did I?” he asked, confusion fluttering over his features.
I nodded, feeling sympathetic for the way he had to live his life. Constantly on alert in case somebody was watching or recording, knowing that his reputation, wealth, and family legacy all depended on how he behaved.
“I'm myself with my inner circle,” he finally said. “But it's not like we live together,” he continued. “We're not this entourage of chosen family who all dwell on one estate.” He chuckled softly as we moved forward. Jesse tagging along behind us, mingling like he always effortlessly did.
“So, I guess sometimes,” Crossland continued. “Sometimes, I fall into the person who I am when they're around. And when I'm at home or when I'm with Bristol, I play a different role.”
I nodded, another little piece of the Crossland puzzle revealing itself to me.