the spotlight and punch-to-the-gut rumors. I’ve been with them during too many, and really, I’ve never been in a position where I needed them just as severely.
I do now, I realize.
Feeling lighter, I text back: I might need to chat. I’ll call you when I’m free. Thanks xo.
And out of habit, I open social media notifications, tweets sent to me. Pressure returns, pulse ramping.
You’re a homewrecker
Why couldn’t you leave Charlie and Oscar alone
Oslie was perfect until you
What’s wrong with you?
Fuck you, Jack Highland, you no name loser
You’re irrelevant for a reason. Go away
“What’s burning?” Oscar races down the loft stairs.
“Shit,” I curse, spinning around to the blackened pandesal on the frying pan. I shut the burner, and Oscar wafts the smoke with a towel. I shake my frazzled head. “Sorry, I have more.” I grab the bread bag.
Oscar isn’t blinking. He stares at the bread, then to me.
“It’s Filipino bread.”
“You were making me toast?” He says it like I got down on a knee.
I smile. “Yeah, it’s likely the only thing I cook well.” I chuck the burnt bun in the trash. “Usually.”
He nods slowly and rubs a hand at the back of his neck. Orange halos shine on the wall as the sun begins to rise. “Can I help?”
“I got it. You paid for dinner last night.” I cut another piece of pandesal. “Akara texted me.”
Oscar grabs protein powder and a bottle. “Me too. He said, congrats. Good choice in bros. He knew you were a frat bro, didn’t he?”
I laugh. “Yeah. He’s met some of my frat brothers.”
Oscar shakes his water bottle with mix. “Where was I?”
“Working or flirting with me.” I eye his washboard abs, and our arms begin to slide around each other’s cut waists when a loud noise emits from my phone.
“Can I look?” Oscar asks me.
“Have at it.”
He checks the notifications. His glare goes from a low simmer to angry boil, but he tries to rationalize the future. “I’m not with Charlie. It’s a fucking lie. They can’t believe it for long. I’m just a bodyguard—I’m not even that famous.”
I plate the hot pandesal. “It’s so much easier creating perception than to change it, Os. When people believe a lie, they will cling to it with all their fucking might. You know why?” I turn to him, wiping my hands on my sweatpants. “Because if they admit it was a lie, it means they were wrong.” I laugh bitterly. “People don’t want to be wrong.”
My phone lets out another angry buzz in his hand and he powers it off and slides it across the counter. “Yeah, well, they’re all fucking WRONG!” He yells at the phone.
I just start laughing.
His lips lift. “Stop,” he tells me. “Because I really need to scream at these motherfuckers, and I can’t do it on the job.”
“No, I needed that.” I wave him on. “You look hot when you’re angry and trying to defend me.”
His lips hoist. “I’m always hot, Highland.” He walks over and puts his hands on my cheeks. “Being with me is complicated.”
My pulse ricochets every which way. “Do not shut the window—”
“I’m not,” he forces
“You sure?”
“For sure,” Oscar says strongly. “Just giving you the opportunity to crawl back out of my open window.” He swallows harder, choked at the thought. “You can still back out. This is day one. You’re not in that deep.”
I laugh like he has no idea. “Yeah I am.” My feelings…can’t walk away from those. And he’s the safe place right now. He must see this answer in my gaze that sinks into him.
Something heady passes between us, and Oscar presses a kiss against my lips, one that brings our bodies so much closer. My nerve-endings prick—and then we’re cut off by a new noise.
His phone buzzes, and when he peeks at the caller ID, his concern jacks up. Switching on speaker-phone, the first thing I hear is a fire alarm and the muffled sound of Charlie’s voice.
23
OSCAR OLIVEIRA
“I can’t hear you, Charlie!” I yell at my cell. He hangs up. Jack and I don’t even put shirts on before we’re down the hall in a flash.
Gold 2166 number on the door, I bang hard. Just what we need this morning. Surliness is a look that I wear pretty fucking well from time to time.
Catastrophes are commonplace among the Cobalts, but I wasn’t looking forward to one so soon after a media shit storm rained down on Jack.
And he made me toast.
Alright, the guy burned the toast first, but damn if