CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CAM
Me: Hey sis. Serious question. Ever think about letting go of your dream?
Aria: Hell no.
Me: Okay, okay. What about switching it up a bit?
Aria: Not a chance.
Me: But come on, your goal isnt to cook in a food truck. You want a restaurant, right?
Aria: Exactly. The food truck is a stepping-stone. Its my way of making the dream happen.
Aria: FYI Abuela wont stop showing everyone that video of you two sucking face at the waterfall. Shes telling them youre engaged and has her wedding dress ready for you.
Me: Ay, Dios mo! Were having fun, thats all.
Aria: Fun, huh? Ive seen the videos. That looks like more than just fun to me.
Me: I dont know what it is, alright? Im rolling with it.
Me: Sorry I havent texted more.
Aria: No worries, mija. Youre busy kicking ass. We both are. Love you.
Me: Love you more, chica.
THIS VIEW IS INCREDIBLE.
The blue sky overhead is so rich, I swear I can taste itcool, crisp, like the first sip of cold water after a day in the sun. Sunlight seeps into my skin, warming me from the inside out, while the steady northeast wind teases me with breezy comfort. The humming catamaran cuts effortlessly through the water, leaving a foamy trail in its wakean easy, rhythmic soundtrack to an afternoon that feels too perfect to be real.
I agree, Reece murmurs.
But hes not focusing on the ocean. Hes staring only at me, his deep-blue eyes giving me the full smolder, as if Im the only woman on this boat. Hell, the only woman in Hawaii. A delicious thrill dances up my spine as he leans close and presses his lips against minegentle, sweet, yet still humming with the echoes of tangled sheets and whispered moans.
When did this shift happen? When did the obnoxious, grumpy, always-critical Reece Dare morph into this attentive guy who gazes at me like Im the center of his universe?
And why does it make my grateful heart want to burst out of my chest?
If you think thats distracting me from snorkeling today, youre tragically mistaken, I mumble against his lips.
Id never dream of stopping you from seeing fish, Morales. But I reserve the right to provide incentives for after.
The heat in his gaze promises the kind of incentives that have left me boneless and breathless every night since we crossed that line.
Were sprawled across each other on the top deck of what can only be described as a floating Chuck E. Cheese for adults. This triple-decker catamaran is what would happen if a cruise ship and a water park had a baby after a tequila bender. The gleaming white monstrosity cuts through the waves with impressive speed.
Below us, the main deck shines with floor-to-ceiling windows. Most of the fifty tourists onboard are on that level enjoying the breakfast buffetplatters of fresh pineapple, mango, and papaya arranged in rainbow spirals, alongside grilling mahi-mahi that releases wafts of mouthwatering aroma even up here. The bottom deck features a glass floor panel where people can watch fish without risking their blowouts.
But the real party tricks of this floating amusement park are the twin water slides corkscrewing off either side and the walk the plank jumping platform extending from the stern.
I hope I get to see a turtle today, I say, already mentally rehearsing what settings Ill use on my waterproof camera.
I hope youre wearing a thong bikini under these very modest shorts, Reece counters, his long, strong fingers finding the hot-pink string peeking out above my waistband. He gives it a gentle tug that sends electric currents racing across my skin. Preferably one that ties at the sides for easy access.
His fingers slip beneath my shirt, exploring with the confidence of a man whos spent the last several days mapping every inch of my body with obsessive attention to detail.
Theres no way my bikini is more stunning than swimming with exotic fish in a volcanic crater, I argue, trying to sound stern but failing spectacularly as his fingertip traces the underside of my breast.
Agree to disagree. Ive seen exotic fish from Fiji to Japan, and Ive seen you in a bikini. No comparison.
Right before I properly roast him for his priorities, he dips his head and attaches his mouth to my neck like a sexy vampire. The heat of his tongue against my skin is a direct hit to my happy place, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound that would scandalize the nice midwestern family two rows over.
You sure you want to play this game? I gasp as his teeth graze my pulse point, because I can get aroused without visible proof, but you? Board shorts arent gonna hide that thick cock of yours. I deliberately glance at his board shorts, which are already showing Im the clear winner.
He growls against my skinan honest-to-God animal sound that vibrates through mebefore reluctantly pulling back. His pupils are so dilated his eyes are almost black, and I feel a surge of feminine power knowing I did that to him.
Fine. Later, he promises, threading his fingers through mine and pulling me closer. He rests his head on my shoulder with a contented sigh, the kind that lingers, that sinks under my skin and burrows in dangerously deep.
We sit in comfortable silence as the Molokini crater grows from a smudge on the horizon to a distinctive crescent shape rising from the water. It looks like something from a sci-fi moviethe partially submerged remains of an ancient volcano, its curved spine creating a natural harbor of turquoise water. Half a dozen other boats converge on the spot like colorful beetles drawn to the same flower.
Its perfect. Beautiful. Everything I could want from a Hawaiian vacation.
Except for the storm brewing inside me.
What happens when this ends?
I still cant believe Reece set up yesterday for me at Lahaina. The memory floods backhim assisting me with the documentary, learning my process, supporting my vision with such genuine interest and enthusiasm. I wanted so badly to tell him that this is exactly the type of content I want to make for my channel. The channel Ive yet to mention, never mind asking for his help to promote it.
But reality lingers beneath the surface, circling like a shark. Im leaving. I have to tell him about my resignationbut when? Cause once I do, our fake relationship is over. And Im terrified this version of Reecethe man who watches Mission Impossible in bed with me, who runs around our room making me laugh, who calls me baby like he means itwill disappear forever.
What if I stay? The thought is an ambush. What if we could be a couple and make meaningful content together?
The Lahaina footage proves that Im not delusional. The way he showed up, helped me, actually gave a damn about telling those peoples stories. That wasnt for clout. That was reala glimpse of what we could do together. His platform could be more than thirst traps and viral stunts. He has the power to make real change, to spotlight causes that deserve more than fifteen seconds of attention. To be more than the sultan of Shallow Content.
The possibilities unfurl, tempting and dangerous. I wont sign Gordons contract, but Ill continue working with Reece as his what? His videographer with benefits? His actual girlfriend? The uncertainty makes my stomach clench.
He acts obsessed with me but is he, really? Or is this just Island Reecerelaxed, playful, affectionate because were trapped in paradise with nothing but time and each other? Once we head back to real-world pressures, demanding sponsors, and the relentless content machine, then what happens?
The sex is mind-blowing, earth-shattering, thank-you-Lord-for-making-male-bodies-capable-of-THAT incredible. But its the other moments that have my insides all gooeythe way he looks at me when he thinks I dont notice, how he remembered my sisters name, how he cuddles me and never wants to let go.
Im still waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me. For Reece to go back to grumpy boss mode, Mr. Critical. Because this Reece Darethe one whos thoughtful and protective, who listens when I talk about camera shots and lighting with genuine interestIm falling for him. Hard.
I know that regardless, I need to make a decision and fast, because in two days we return to LA, where Ive already given my notice. Where Gordon is waiting with a contract that would extend our staged romance for monthsa contract I have no intention of signing. Yesterday made it clear: its time to pursue my plans to start helping others.
OMG, besties! The view from up here is literally everything!
Astrid explodes onto the top deck like a confetti cannon filled with narcissism and lip fillers. She prances around in her gold metallic bikini, shoving the camera into Blazes hands. Hold this. I need you to capture my full goddess energy.
On it, babe. Blaze salutes her, nearly dropping the camera in the process.
Blazes outfit today is an assault on fashionextra in the worst way, like a fever dream curated by a colorblind clown in a hurry.
Tie-dye tank top? Check. Tacky board shorts that look designed by a glitter-obsessed kindergartner? Check. And a sparkly pink baseball cap that reads, Blazed and Confused . Which, lets face it, sums him up perfectly.
Bitches, this exact turquoise shade is in my new Ocean Vibes eyeshadow palette, dropping at midnight! She twirlspart prima ballerina, all marketing genius. Use code GLOWJOB for fifteen percent off and free shipping on orders over fifty dollars! Your eyes will pop out of your skullideal for that trendy zombie vibe this summer!
Astrid strikes several poses, puckering her lips and sticking out her tits to the camera. Blazey-Boo, tell everybody how amazing my contour looks.
Blazes face goes through a wild mix of emotions: confusion, panic, scrambling for thought, and then total freak-out. Uh, your face is, uh, totally fire, babe. Like a super hot statue? Yeah! Like those old guys who made ass statues, but on your face!
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from snorting.
A statue? What does that even mean? She snatches the camera back. This is why we rehearse these things! Whatever.
She continues her monologue, her voice an unsettling blend of baby talk and an overly enthusiastic cheerleader, as she documents every inch of the boat.
Meanwhile, Blazes attention span struggles to stay focused and then forgets why it was here. His eyes dart everywhere: a passing cloud, a splash in the water, his own reflection in a nearby window. And then he spots us.
Yo! My dudes! He bounds over, arms wide, pulling us into a group hug. Miss you, bro! This reminds me when we went snorkeling in Australia and we met those two local girls who
Nope, Reece cuts him off.
Yeah, remember! Blaze persists. Yours was really hot but made those donkey noises when you
Look, a dolphin! Reece interrupts, pointing wildly at absolutely nothing.
Blazes head whips around so fast I worry for his neck. Where? He bounds to the railing, leaning dangerously far over the side. I dont see it! Is it doing tricks?
So, animal noises? Is that another kink I should know about? I lean closer, lowering my voice to a mock-seductive whisper. Titty fucking while I I let out an exaggerated HEE-HAW! HEE-HAW!
Hilarious, Morales, he deadpans. New rule. Not talking about exes goes both ways.
You sure have a lot of rules for this fake relationship.
In an instanthis entire mood shifts.
His expression locks down, his eyes go hard, and there it is.
The wall.
The one I knew would come back eventually.
The one I dreaded.
I watch the tension creep into his shoulders, the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers twitch, as if they cant figure out if they want to hold me or shove me away. Instead, he drops my hand and pulls out his phone, scrolling aimlessly, leaving me in awkward silence.
My stomach churns, and its not from the rocking boat.
This is exactly what Ive been afraid of. The silent Reece. The brooding Reece. The man who can go from playful to impenetrable fortress faster than Astrid can say Like and subscribe.
But thenhis hand slides over mine.
He lifts our joined fingers and touches his lips to my knuckles. The gesture is so unexpectedly tender, so jarringly intimate after the frost only moments before.
I hope you get to see your turtle today.
Emotional. Whiplash.
I should tell him about quitting. Should rip the Band-Aid off and end this fantasy before it hurts even more.
But for now, I cant. I wont. I refuse. The truthand whatever heartbreak it bringscan wait.
At least until were back on dry land.
***
Damn, youre sexy. How can you make flippers and a snorkel look so fucking hot? Reeces eyes rake over me from behind his dorky, oversized mask.
Im beginning to think you hit your head when we jumped off that cliff. I tease, repositioning the strap digging into my scalp. Or maybe its heatstroke. Should I check your pupils? Alert medical professionals?
Were standing near the stern, where everyones gearing up for snorkeling, aligning masks and squeezing into fins. The energy is chaoticexcited tourists fumbling with equipment while crew members offer assistance with the patience of preschool teachers on a field trip.
One woman is engaged in an impressive wrestling match with her snorkel mask, the strap tangled hopelessly in her hair. Her husbandjudging by the matching Hawaiian print swimwearis pretending not to know her.
Reece and I decided our first shot will be jumping off the plank together, holding handsa callback to our viral waterfall kiss. My heart rate kicks up just thinking about it, but honestly I cant tell if its from the memory of his lips or the thought of plunging into the open ocean.
Im kinda glad its impossible to livestream underwater, I say, giving my snorkel a quick test blow. I can finally get some real cinematic shots without the constant narration for viewers.
Youre so seductive when you get all passionate about filming. Theres something about the way you get all intense and focused He steps closer, lowering his voice so only I can hear. Like how you look right before you co
Okay! Camera check! I interrupt before my warming face spontaneously combusts. Lets make sure this thing is recording properly.
He grins, holding up the special underwater GoPro setupa selfie stick with extra grip texture so it doesnt slip from wet hands, encased in waterproof housing thick enough to survive the Mariana Trench.
Reece takes my hand as we step onto the plank, our fins making that ridiculous squeaky rubber sound. It should be impossible to feel romantic while waddling like penguins, yet somehow his touch still makes my whole arm tingle.
The plank extends from the rear of the boat, resembling a diving board to nowhere, suspended over crystal-clear water that shimmers in a dozen shades of blue. I can already see colorful fish darting beneath the surface, teasing us with flashes of yellow and electric orange.
He presses Record , aiming the camera at our faces.
DareSquad, you are NOT ready for how gorgeous this water is. His voice shifts into YouTuber mode, enthusiasm dialed up to eleven as he swings the camera toward the ocean. Check it out. You can see all the way to the bottom!
The visibility is unreallike staring into the worlds largest natural aquarium.
Reece turns the camera back to capture both of us, his hand in mine. Baby, tell them where were at.
We are snorkeling at the Molokini Crater, I say, smoothly transitioning into presenter mode, a role thats become surprisingly comfortable over the last week. Home to over 250 species of colorful fish and 38 types of coral
But, Reece cuts in, my girl wants to see a turtle, so lets go find her one.
Before I can react, he moves closer and kisses mefast and fiery, his lips firm and demanding. My heart rate skyrockets, and as Im about to melt into the kiss, he pulls back with that devilish glint in his eyes and gives my hand a squeeze.
Come on!
And then
YANK.
Im airborne. My startled scream is cut short as we plunge into the water. SPLASH! The ocean swallows my yelp whole as we break the surface, cool air rushing over my skin.
I push my mask up, spitting out salty water. Oh, you are so dead when I edit this footage.
Totally worth it.
After that stunt, its my turn to hold the camera.
Reece doesnt hesitate. He passes it over, but thenhe grabs my other hand. Laces his fingers with mine.
Thats fine. As long as I can still hold you.
Once more, my stupid heart goes all squishy on me.
We adjust our masks, popping snorkels into our mouths like awkward plastic pacifiers. Reece gives me a thumbs-up. I return the gesture and take a deep breath.
We dive.
The world transforms.
The bright, chaotic boat noises vanish, replaced by a peaceful, liquid silence. The only sounds are the gentle hum of the ocean, the occasional whoosh of a fellow snorkeler kicking past, and the stream of tiny bubbles floating toward the surface.
Its fucking magic.
The water is warm, enveloping us in liquid silk, a welcome contrast to the cooler air well feel when we surface. I tilt my head, watching beams of sunlight pierce through the translucent blue and illuminate the coral reef below.
Reeces fingers stay tangled with mine, his grip firm, as if he doesnt want to lose me in the vastness of the ocean. I lift the camera, getting my first underwater shots.
My calf ticklesthe gentle brush of a fish swimming past, too curious or too confident to be bothered by our intrusion into its world. I turn the camera in time to capture a yellow tail darting away, its body a perfect slice of sunshine against the blue backdrop.
Before I realize whats happening, were in the middle of a school of fish.
Hundredsmaybe thousandsof gleaming silver bodies with electric-orange racing stripes pulse around us, parting ever so slightly before reuniting behind us.
My mind races with the thrill of documenting something so wild and unpredictable. When I glance at Reece, his eyes are filled with wonder behind his mask. In this moment, hes not YouTube royalty or my complicated boss-turned-loverhes just a man, utterly captivated by the worlds beauty. It stirs an emotion deep within me, an unfamiliar feeling that Im not prepared to dissect.
We kick forward, gliding over a forest of vibrant corala neon city pulsing with life. Beneath us, schools of tiny, iridescent fish flicker in and out of sight, vanishing between the corals jagged ridges.
Reece jerks his hand from mine, pointing frantically at a creature beneath a rock. He motions for the camera, his expression shifting to that boyish excitement that makes him look sixteen instead of twenty-eight. I pass him the GoPro, watching as he dives deeper with powerful kicks that showcase every muscle in his thighs and calvesanatomy Ive become intimately familiar with these past few days but still havent tired of admiring.
The eel gets a sense of this absolute menace invading its personal space and vanishes into the coral.
Then, Reece is a torpedo shooting to the surface. I follow, breaking into the cool breeze, dragging the snorkel from my mouth.
I saw it! I fucking saw its teeth! he says, gasping for air. There was a massive moray eel back there! It was horror-movie huge! It opened its mouth right when I got close, and I swear to God, Cam, it had a second set of jaws inside. Like that movie Alien !
Did you get a close-up?
Hell yeah! Here, Ill do some underwater reactions for the video.
He takes a deep breath and dives back under, leaving me to follow with the camera, lining up the shot.
What unfolds is the most hilarious underwater performance Ive ever seen. He strikes a bodybuilder pose, flexing his biceps while puffing his cheeks out like a pufferfish. He slow-motion runs as if hes auditioning for an underwater Baywatch reboot. But the grand finale is his attempt at an underwater somersault, which goes so hilariously wrong that bubbles explode from his snorkel.
This playful, goofy side of Reecethe side thatll do anything to make me smileis my new addiction.
We surface together, gasping and laughing, the sun hot on our faces, and everything feels perfectly, ridiculously right.
I freeze.
What? What? Do I have a jellyfish on my face?
TURTLE!
He spins around, and there it isa massive green sea turtle, gliding past us as if it owns the place.
Quick, go! Ill film it.
Reece grabs the GoPro, flipping it on and following as I dive down. The turtle moves slowly, unbothered, its shell catching the sunlight filtering through the waves.
I swim closer, hovering just beside it, turning slightly, posing like a full-on tourist. Im so close I could reach out and touch it (I wont. I dont need Mother Nature smiting me today). The turtle acknowledges my presence with a slight turn of its head, its eyes meeting mine for a brief moment that feels profoundly spiritual before it continues its unhurried exploration, gliding away into the blue distance.
Im still staring, transfixed by the encounter, when Reeces hand finds mine. He pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist as we drift in the underwater silence. Through our masks, our eyes meet in a moment of shared wonder.
We stay suspended like that, holding each other in the gentle current, until our lungs remind us were not actually equipped with gills. With synchronized kicks, we rise to the surface.
I rip off my mask, grinning so hard my face hurts. Tell me you got that on video! Dios mo! That was the coolest thing Ive ever seen in my life!
Baby, I think I did, but I cant be sure. Your ass was pretty distracting.
I splash him. Seriously? Thats what you were focusing on? My dream of seeing a sea turtle, and you were filming my rear end?
I got the turtle too, he laughs.
Give me the camera so I can check the footage.
I reach for the handlebut instead, he pulls me in. His lips find mine in a kiss that tastes of salt water and adventure.
When we break apart, Reeces expression shifts, his gaze so intense that it makes the rest of the world fade to nothing. My dream is floating right here in my arms. Everything else is just bonus footage.
My heart stops, skips, then races as I slam my lips onto his, hungry to communicate to his body what Im not ready to acknowledge to myself.
***
I should not be this comfortable.
Wrapped up in one oversized beach towel, legs tangled with Reeces, his chest firm and warm against my back, Im completely cocooned in himtrapped in the best possible way. His arms are locked around me, not as a restraint, but as a claim, a silent promise that Im not going anywhere.
Which works for me. I have no interest in wiggling free.
These moments, he murmurs against my ear, his breath entirely too distracting, are why I love filming.
I angle my head back, resting against his broad, stupidly comfortable chest. Snuggling with me? Thats your takeaway?
Obviously, he teases, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. Im saying most people will never get to experience swimming with sea turtles or being above the clouds watching the sunrise. So at least I can help them experience it, you know? With my videos.
His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer.
Especially for my younger audience, he continues. Kids like Keoniit shows them how big the world is, sparks ideas about places to visit, careers to explore, and adventures they may want to try someday.
Ive never thought about it that way, but youre totally right. I turn my head slightly to meet his eyes. You are the reason I picked up a camera in the first place.
Wait. Seriously? You meant it when you told my moms that?
I used to rewatch your videos the way film students dissect their favorite directors. Id take notes on your transitions, your tracking shots, how you built tension before a stunt. My friends were all thirst-following for your abs. I was fangirling over your dolly zooms and depth-of-field choices.
His chest vibrates against my back with silent laughter.
You drew me in with your visual storytelling. Nobody else was making skateboarding down a hill resemble an epic Hollywood production.
But what about my abs? You liked them too, right?
I elbow him lightly in the ribs, earning another laugh. Yeah, yeah, they were and are spectacular.
I never imagined that filming my dumb videos would lead me to the most incredible girl Ive ever met.
I twist in his arms, nearly dislodging our carefully arranged towel fortress, needing to see his faceto assess whether this is just another line, another performance, another practiced charm offensive.
But his eyes God, his eyes. Theyre wide open, vulnerable in a way Ive never seen before, holding none of the calculated charisma he deploys for his audience.
I swallow, forcing words out. I think youre incredible too, Reece.
I know I dont deserve to be here with you, but theres nothing I wouldnt do to make this last.
Panic flares hot under my ribs. My chest is so tight, my stomach is in knots, and if I dont break eye contact, Im going to do something profoundly stupid.
Like tell him that Im in love with him.
Oh shit, I love him.
I do. I really fucking do love him.
The boats speakers crackle to life, interrupting my internal crisis. Attention, passengers! Well be departing for shore in approximately thirty minutes. Please gather your belongings and prepare for our return journey.
Reece stands. I want to jump off the plank a few more times. You in?
I clasp his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet with effortless strength. Yeah, but first I need to use the restroom.
Hurry back. You can rate my dives on a scale from embarrassing belly flop to Olympic gold medal.
We separate with a kiss. I make my way down the stairs to the main level, walking through the hall to the restroom when a wall of peroxide blonde materializes.
Astrid.
Her attention appears fixed on her phone, thumbs tapping with robotic precision.
I gotta ask, she says, her voice oozing with fake innocence. Does Reece even realize youve been playing him from the start?
Keep walking, Camila . Dont acknowledge her.
All this time, I thought you were just the shy little nobody behind the camera, but youre playing a whole different game, arent you?
Im not playing anything, Astrid.
She tilts her head, giving me a calculated once-over. So youre telling me this relationship isnt the perfect setup for your little documentary channel? That you havent already calculated how many subscribers Reeces endorsement could bring you?
My stomach drops to my ankles. How do you know about my channel?
Gordon gets super chatty when he drinks. He went off about his best videographer quitting right before this trip to start some bleeding heart documentary nonsense thatll never hit six figures. Her smile is toxic. And thensurprise, surprise!you magically turn from employee to girlfriend in forty-eight freakin hours. Crazy, huh?
I feel the color drain from my face but remain vigilant. You have no idea what youre talking about.
Trust me, I get it. Youre hungry for those subscribers. Youve been playing the long game. Of course you see the power of Reeces platform because youve helped build it for two years. Its genius. Ruthless, but genius. Thats what makes us so alike.
Im not using him like you did, I say, hands curling into fists at my sides,
I bet youve been practicing your pitch in the mirror. she continues, twisting the knife. Oh, Reece, Ive been thinking about starting this little channel. Would you mind giving it a shoutout to your followers? It would mean so much to lil ol me. Her mimicry is nauseatingly accurate.
Thats not
You know whats truly impressive? Her eyes gleam with malicious delight. That waterfall kiss. Brilliant strategy. Youve got the whole internet shipping you. But some advice: its not so easy to fake chemistry long term when there are millions of subscribers and sponsors on the line.
Something snaps inside methe last thread of restraint giving way to unchecked fury.
Unlike you, I snarl, stepping closer, Im not treating him like hes disposable. My intentions are genuine. Yes, I want Reece to promote my channel. Im not going to lie, Ive thought about his followers becoming my audience. Yes, Ive calculated how his endorsement could help my career. The words tumble out and I cant stop them. Because Im not stupid, and only a complete idiot would ignore the professional opportunities that have fallen into my lap!
Her evil smile widens.
But none of that matters, I continue, barely pausing for breath, because I actually care about him. I care about the person, not his brand.
Oh, totally believable. Her tone drips with sarcasm. So, spill itwhats the big exit strategy? Wait until he promotes your channel, build your starter audience, then release a tear-jerking breakup video? Or are you thinking of stretching it out for a few more months, really securing your follower base before you ditch him?
I dont have an exit strategy!
Girl, everyone does. Her laugh is soft, almost pitying. Thats how this industry rolls. We all use each other to get ahead. I used Reece to boost my cosmetics line. Youre using him to launch your channel. Hes using you to save his company. Different reasons, same outcome.
She reaches out, patting my arm with faux sympathy. Dont feel bad about it. Its smart. Actually, we should collaborate once this is all over. My followers love a good redemption arc.
Listen, you manipulative, two-faced snake, I snap. Go ahead and think I used his platform for views, but I never faked my feelings for him! There will not be a messy public breakup to boost my career. Reece is not a steppingstone. And when my channel launches, its gonna be huge and make a real difference. So if you think Im another social climber chasing the money, youre dead wrong.
Oh, sweetie, thats cute. And slightly pathetic. Hit me up when youre ready to collab.
Then she struts off, grinning, leaving me to wonder if shes right.
Am I truly no better than Astrid?
If I confess the truth to Reece, will he believe me? Or will he think Im using him, shut me out, and close the door on us?