Curvy Girls Can't Date Bad Boys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,31

desserts.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I said, “Maybe we can go sit outside?”

“Sure,” he said. We walked up the stairs to the patio. The hot tub water steamed into the air , and I thought after Ryde left I should come for a soak. It was so relaxing to be in the water and feel the heat warm my muscles. Unlike now. My shoulders were tense just being around Ryde.

Being with him wasn't like being with Ronan. It was a game, a chess match, and I had to make each move carefully, even though I didn’t quite know what I was playing for. Up until now, I hadn't been as meticulous with my movements as I should have been, but I needed to get it together and fast.

“How's your dad doing?” Ryde asked.

“On a business trip.” I folded my feet underneath me on the chair and opened the takeout box I’d brought out with me. There was a square of fudge that looked especially appealing.

“Who’s he pitching this time?”

I took a bite and shrugged. Usually Dad didn't tell me too much about the deals he was attempting until they were already done so he could let me know what he learned, what worked, what didn't, and how he managed to seal the deal. This YA book adaptation was a huge leap from the norm.

Looking disappointed, Ryde nodded.

“How was filming today?” I asked.

Now it was his turn to shrug. “It was fine. We're getting toward the end, and I'm ready to be done with it.”

That, I understood. Most people thought the life of an actor was glamorous, but I'd been close enough to the industry for long enough that I knew it wasn't. It was hard work, long hours, and plenty of networking so you can know the right people to get the job. If Ryde didn’t get something lined up soon, he could be looking at months or years of auditioning for the next big role.

“How’s Ambrose doing post-launch?” I asked.

“Offers for other roles are coming in,” he said, a small hint of jealousy in his voice. “Brose could take his pick of pretty much anything. What do you think of the teen lessons?”

The change in subject didn’t surprise me. Ryde and I had a hard time actually talking about anything, much less staying on the same subject for long enough to dig beneath the surface. “Honestly, I think the lessons are kind of pointless. What’s the point of learning about teens if you don’t want to really understand them?”

Leaning back against the patio couch and lacing his hands behind his head, he said, “I wish my parents would try to understand me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, when what I really wanted to know was what there was to understand. That boy was about as deep as a raindrop.

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Don’t play the poor-misunderstood-me card,” I said. “It doesn’t look good on a million-dollar movie star.”

With an exasperated expression, he leaned forward and put his hands on his knees. “Okay, I’ll play.”

“And that means?”

He seemed intrigued, like my dismissal of him got him off somehow. But something else also showed on his face. Disappointment? “When’s the last time your parents used your bank account to make a house payment?”

I struggled to keep my expression normal. The Alexander family was struggling with finances? Their father was a leading financial banker on the West Coast, and with her mother as the cheer coach, Merritt got free tuition to the Academy. Why would they have trouble with their finances?

Ryde’s expression sobered. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” He stood up. “Forget I came over.”

I wasn’t able to get out another word before he walked inside and left me alone on the patio.

Twenty-One

“You seem off,” Rory said in current events after Mr. Sullivan asked us to partner up on covering a local event from that day. “Everything okay?”

“I guess.” I took the copy of the Everyday Emerson lying on my desk and began flipping through the sections, even though the biggest news I’d heard lately wouldn’t be found within the pages.

In the past few days, I’d heard about how despicable Roy Taylor truly was, as well as the Alexander family’s financial hardships. I still hadn’t told my friends—it didn’t feel right to share gossip, especially when I didn’t know if the latter was actually true.

“We should cover this,” Rory said, pointing at a headline in the sports section. “Badgers Owner Donates Millions to Children’s Hospital.”

“What?” I lifted the

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