26. Nathan
26 /
nathan
Bachelor King
“You’re fucking everything up,” an angry voice says.
I turn slowly, already annoyed.
My agent, Natasha, steps out from behind the stage curtain. She places a fist on her hip and purses her lips. With her severe blunt-bobbed haircut, cat-eyed gaze, and stabby heels, her vibe is fuck with me and die , even though she’s the size of a fairy sprite.
“Natasha.” Coming face-to-face with her is the last thing I want after a two-hour show, especially when all I’ve been able to think about is flying back across the state to be with Jeanie.
A stagehand passes me a towel and a bottle of water. Out front, my greedy fans cheer on, even though I’ve performed two encores.
“Do you know where I should be right now?” She crosses her arms and steps closer, her heels slowly clicking on the stage floor .
“Should I?” I wipe blue glow-in-the-dark paint from my chest.
“Let me know if this rings a bell: red carpet, paparazzi, me on Brandon Rylan’s arm wearing couture and draped with two point nine million dollars of jewels. Did you know they hired three men the size of a freighter to follow me all night to protect them? Two point nine million, Nathan.”
“I didn’t ask you to come, Nat.”
“No, you forced me to by going rogue. You haven’t taken my calls in weeks. Instead, I find out you’re holed up in Miami Beach with some groupie.”
She flashes me her phone. Onscreen is a paparazzi video of me and Jeanie kissing this morning, and it’s steamy as fuck.
“It usually takes more than this to ruffle your feathers. You going soft on me?” I play it off. It’s the only way I’ll get Natasha off my back.
“Try hundreds of videos and stills. I had to pay off a seventeen-year-old bellboy so he wouldn’t sell to All Access . Right now, he’s probably living the good life in the Apple store—in another country, if he knows what’s good for him.”
“I guess we’re even. I danced at your friend’s bachelorette party, and you pay to keep my indiscretions quiet.”
“These photos have consequences. Your career is about to explode, but only because every horny person on this earth thinks they have a shot with you. Even my grandma wants a date.”
“Whatever happened to me having talent and luck? And tell Francine I miss her.” I wink and take a swig of water.
“The only luck you’ll have is if I don’t murder you tonight.”
The stagehand returns with a robe. I thank them and slip into it.
“We had a plan, Nathan, and it’s finally working,” Natasha says.
I glance up from tying the belt. “You heard back from the network?”
“Jerry called this afternoon and said it’s between you and a few other guys. One’s a food porn influencer on social media. The other is that professional escort who’s part of that crazy scandal. The others don’t even matter. The point is, you’re this close to becoming the next Bachelor King.” She squeezes her fingers together. “You can’t be attached to anyone the moment they pick you.”
“It’s not a done deal yet.”
This is the real reason she hunted me down. Natasha has been trying to get me on this show for the last three seasons, and if what she says is true, this is the closest we’ve ever come.
“My money’s on you.” She steps too close, then runs her palm down the length of my arm and across my chest. “It always has been.”
“Nat.” I snatch her wrist and lift her hand off my body. The only person I want touching me is Jeanie. I don’t expect or even comprehend the feeling, but it’s so strong, I can’t ignore it.
If this were a week ago, Natasha and I would have been up against the nearest wall fucking. With her, it’s only about sex. Hell, for me that’s all it’s ever been with anyone, except for one person, and I haven’t figured out why yet.
“Oh, I see.” She smiles and crosses her arms again.
“This one’s different,” I say.
“Fine. You can play house a little longer, but when this offer lands, you’ll have to cut ties. It’s the only way to finalize this deal.”
Natasha disappears as fast as she appeared. But now, I’m staring into space with a serious problem.
My time with Jeanie might be more limited than expected, which makes getting back to her tonight even more dire. I take out my phone and dial my assistant.
“Cadie, find Edwin. I need a private jet from Tampa to Miami ASAP.”