Fake Boyfriend - Miley Maine Page 0,12
bantering back and forth and then boom. I find out she’s off limits, unless I wanted a world of trouble on my doorstep. It sucked for her, but the kids of famous people were always under the microscope -- they showed up in newspaper articles and on celebrity blogs. I might not be undercover, but I didn’t need that kind of spotlight, not with my job. And I sure as hell didn’t want to lead her on.
But I also didn’t want to let her keep ranting while we were on this plane. Any of these rich fuckers all around us could be eavesdropping.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll treat you the same. What were we talking about before your dad so rudely interrupted us with that expensive champagne?”
Her lips twitched. Apparently her sunny spirit was hard to suppress. Even when she wanted to.
“I see it,” I said.
“See what?”
“I think you’re about to smile.”
She couldn’t hold it back any more. Her grin broke through her melancholy, and my body warmed up all over.
“We were talking about my dating life, and how I could hook up,” she announced. I was glad to see that all of the life had come back into her eyes. But I really did not want to discuss this topic.
“Correction,” I said. “We were discussing how dating in a place where you don’t know anyone is dangerous.”
“Don't patronize me. I don’t need another bodyguard. I want you to be my friend.”
“Friends tell each other the truth,” I said. And the truth was that Loren was unique. She had an energy that drew me in, and she was gorgeous. Not many men would pass up the opportunity to take her home. Without her bodyguard around, other men would try to take advantage of her.
I just had to convince her not to take any crazy risks before we got off the plane in Seattle and I never saw her cute smile again.
Chapter Six
Loren
The plane ride to Anchorage was a lot less fun than the one to Seattle had been. Because now that Jackson knew who I was, or rather who my family was, he had changed the way he talked to me. He was much more reserved in his comments, and a lot less friendly.
I should have known that would happen. I’d tried to stave it off as long as I could, but no matter what I did, the result was always the same.
When someone found out about my powerful family, they always treated me differently. Some got freaked out like Jackson had. Others wanted jobs or favors. No one ever saw me anymore.
Today, I’d had several blissful hours where Jackson had flirted with me, and teased me, just like he would have with anyone. But as soon as he found out -- thanks to my father’s meddling -- it ended.
And I was fucking pissed about it. As the plane taxied to a stop, I gripped the straps of my purse. After Jackson stopped chatting with me, the plane felt like a cage. I was trapped, and my skin was crawling with the need to get off the plane and get away from him.
Jackson got up first, and he reached down to pick up my heavy photography bag.
“Don’t.”
“Loren. Let me carry it for you.”
“Let go of it.”
He held his hands up. “Fine.”
“Thank you for letting me take your picture. And thank you for treating me like a normal person,” I said. I didn’t care if the tone of my voice was bitter. “For the three hours while it lasted.”
“Loren--”
“Don’t. Whatever you have to say, it won’t help. At least I know not to get my hopes up again.”
Then we couldn’t talk anymore, because the flight attendant was ushering us off the plane and into the terminal. I did struggle to carry my bag, but I was not going to let him help me. Maybe that was me being stubborn. Maybe I was being stupid. But, I didn’t care.
When we reached the baggage claim area, he touched my elbow. “Do you have any bags here?”
“No.” I gritted my teeth. “No, I don’t have bags. Do you want to know why?”
He looked at me expectantly.
“Because a week ago I packed my clothes for the wedding, and one of my dad’s many employees had shipped it to the hotel for me.” It hadn’t even occurred to me that wasn’t a part of being independent until after it was done. “Go ahead. Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Whatever you’re thinking. That I’m an idiot. That I take advantage of