Rogue Beast (The Rourkes #12) - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,26
his deep smooth voice through his words and find myself smiling.
Garrett: There’s a group of guys with cameras waiting by the front door of my apartment building. Are they there because of me? If so, what should I do? I have to go out today.
He honestly doesn’t know why the paparazzi staked him out?
Duh. He doesn’t have a publicist texting him links to articles. And I doubt he has a Google alert on his name. Why would he? No one ever reports on a guy working on a construction site.
Me: Those guys are paparazzi. You’re all over the internet right now. Everyone wants to know more about the secret prince of Brooklyn.
Garrett: Seriously?
Me: Yes!
I send him some of the links Dana sent me. A few minutes later, he texts again.
Garrett: They’re saying I’m a model.
He’s proud of his part in the family business—they do important work—so I imagine he’s not happy with people pegging him as a model. I reassure him.
Me: They make up crap all the time. Don’t take it to heart. It means nothing.
My phone rings, surprising me. It’s him. My heart races with excitement.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks the moment I answer.
I still, surprised. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because there’s a ridiculous amount of stuff written about me, and you’re barely mentioned.” He sounds snappish.
My hackles rise at his tone. “I’m mentioned too. I don’t think—it’s fine.”
“You are mad at me. I’m fluent in woman speak. Fine is never just fine.”
I can feel myself shutting down in self-defense. He’s fluent in woman speak because of all his many girlfriends, obviously. “Good for you on learning the female language so well.”
“Uh-huh. Look, you asked me to this thing after your asshole ex left you hanging. I’m not sure how any of this is my fault. I’m only interesting to the public because of you.”
“You’re a royal. That makes you inherently interesting.”
“So are my five older brothers. So are my seven cousins. And every other Rourke relative I have.”
“Yes, but they weren’t with me last night. You were.” Does he regret being in the spotlight with me because everyone is making assumptions about him? Is it the paps staking him out that’s the problem?
Or maybe he’s just another user and he’s angry thinking I called him out on it somehow. Classic user behavior, turning the whole thing around on the other person. I so wanted him to be different.
I’m confused.
“Garrett—”
He lets out a long whistle. “I sure was wrong about you. Here I was thinking you’re not about fame, no big ego here. Lady, there’s not enough room in the city to hold your ego.”
I gasp. “Excuse me?”
“You hate that they’re focused on me. And you’re mad because you think I wanted this. All I wanted was a date with someone I thought was a kind, compassionate, caring person. Now I see how it really was for you last night, just a big PR campaign to make you look good.”
“That’s not true!”
“I’m so disappointed in you.”
My gut twists. “I do care about the cause. A lot. I told you why.”
He lets out a long breath. “Now I’ve got these weirdos downstairs. Do I talk to them? Do I ignore them?”
“You can ignore them, but they’ll follow you.”
“Well, they’d better not follow me to my parents’ house for dinner tonight. That’s going too far.”
“Then you need to give them a statement and tell them that’s all you’ll be saying.”
“What kind of statement?”
“Whatever you feel like giving them. It’s up to you. Just don’t mention me.”
“Ridiculous,” he mutters. “All because I went to that gala.”
Guilt stabs at me. He does regret it, and it’s my fault the paps staked him out. The least I can do is shield him from what I have to deal with. “You don’t have to go to the Rourke fundraiser with me next Saturday.”
“Wow. Thanks for the uninvite to my own family’s fundraiser. This just gets better and better. So glad I agreed to this whole friends on a date bullshit. Bye, Harper.”
I jolt at the harsh goodbye. He hung up on me!
I let out a shaky breath. Somehow the conversation got away from me.
This is exactly why I didn’t want to get involved with anyone so soon. I’m still hurting, and that makes me extra defensive and vulnerable to hurt. I rub my temple at the headache forming there. He was really defensive and harsh too.
You know what? I don’t need the guilt trip, the I’m so disappointed in you garbage.