Chapter 10
TEN
Travis
After a decade as a rock star, I knew when a woman was coming on to me.
Katie Armstrong was not coming on to me.
There was a moment—when she grabbed me and kissed me—that I thought it was happening. I’d had every straight, single man’s reaction when a beautiful woman pulls him in for a kiss: Yes! This is happening! Let’s go for it! I can’t believe my luck!
Then reality set in, and I knew why she was doing it. Because we had an agreement, because she thought I was hot, because we were fake dating. Also because, for a few minutes, she had thought she was going to die.
I had still kissed her back, of course. You only live once, and if Katie Armstrong was going to kiss me, then I would make it worth her while, even if it wasn’t because she liked me. I’d been kissed for worse reasons than hers.
Still, there had been a moment—a fraction of a second—when I had believed it. And it had felt good. It had felt weirdly like joy.
Katie had ditched her script, ditched L.A., and flown to Portland—and now I understood. A role with Edgar Pinsent was a big deal. She wasn’t here for me. Aside from my obvious hotness, why would she be? I was a means to an end. I had, in fact, agreed to be a means to an end, and to use her the same way. I didn’t need to screw this up by trying to fuck her—something she’d already said no to.
“I’m going to follow you on Instagram,” Katie said, taking out her phone.
“Okay.” I pulled groceries out of the fridge and set them on the counter to make us sandwiches. Katie still sat at the kitchen island.
She glanced up at me. “You don’t understand, Travis. Get your phone. You have to follow me back, and you have to do it the minute after I follow you.”
I lifted my hand from the lettuce. “What?”
“It’s basically an announcement that we’re dating,” she explained. “We follow each other. But if I follow first, and you don’t follow back immediately, it looks like you don’t care about me as much as I care about you. People will think you treat me like dirt. They’ll say we’re doomed.”
I stared at her. “You get all of that from an Instagram follow? Who even pays attention to who’s following who?”
“ People .” Her tone was exasperated. “Travis, people pay attention. You have over three million followers, and you only follow six people. Everyone will notice when you follow me.” She tapped her phone. “Wait. One of the people you follow is…Sabrina Lowe.”
“Probably. I don’t remember.” I picked up the loaf of bread, and then I saw Katie’s stricken expression. I remembered how she’d made me promise I wasn’t seeing anyone. “Babe, Sabrina and I didn’t date long, and she’s been my ex for months. She tossed me like week-old deli meat, and she had good reasons. I was being a dick to everyone I knew, especially her. She decided not to put up with my shit anymore. That doesn’t mean I hate her.”
Katie nodded, then shook her head, as if arguing with herself in her head. “Okay, but you have to unfollow her.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s Sabrina Lowe. She’s one of the most beautiful pop stars in the world, and people will think you’re not over her.”
“How the hell will they get that from the fact that I follow her on Instagram?”
“They will, trust me.”
“This is weird,” I complained, but I put the bread knife down and retrieved my phone from the living room. “I don’t get this social media stuff.”
“But I do,” Katie shot back. “So follow my lead.”
I opened Instagram. The post I’d made from the road had thousands of likes and comments. I skipped those and found my following list. I unfollowed Sabrina, looked up Katie, and followed her. “There,” I said. “Now you can take too long to follow me. ”
Katie gasped and rushed to follow me back.
A wave of notifications popped up, based on the fact that apparently no one had a life. I closed the app and put my phone down. I braced my arms on the counter and looked at Katie. “It looks like we just started dating,” I said.
Our gazes locked. Katie’s cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes bright. She looked beautiful. I should probably stop staring.
“I guess so,” she said. “Now what? Are we going out tonight?”
I shook my head. “You just got here.” I picked up the bread knife and pointed to my phone with it. “We did the Instagram thing after round one, but we’re not going only one round. If you came all the way here for me, then I’d fuck you until late, until we’re both exhausted.” I paused, because that sounded hot and really good. “In the script,” I clarified. “That’s how it happens in the script. In real life, I’m making you a sandwich.”
Katie’s cheeks had gone deeper red, her lips parted. “Right. What happens tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, we improvise,” I told her. “That’s part of this, Good Girl. No plans. We roll out of bed late—after I fuck you again, of course—and then we decide what we want to do. Like rock stars.”
She put her elbows on the island and put her forehead into her hands. “I’m not good at being unscheduled.”
“I am.” I sliced the bread and moved on to a tomato. “I’ve been unscheduled for a while now. You’re good at social media, but I’m good at being a guy with nothing to do but have fun. You’ll see.”
On the counter, both of our phones started buzzing and vibrating. Katie’s phone nearly jumped over the edge. She picked it up. “Stella,” she said to me. “I’ve been avoiding her.”
I picked up my phone and read who was calling. “Jonathan,” I said.
We exchanged a grin.
“You go first,” I told her.
Katie tapped the phone and put it on speaker. “Hi, Stella.”
“There you are!” Stella barked. “I just saw your Instagram. What the fuck is going on? I thought Travis White bailed on us.”
“Surprise,” I said, laying out bread slices.
“He’s there?” Stella’s voice moved away. “Jonathan, hang up. Katie’s with Travis. They’re on the phone.”
My phone stopped vibrating, and Jonathan’s voice came over the speaker. “Travis? I thought you left town.”
“I did,” I said. “I’m in Portland. With Katie.”
“What?” Stella’s voice went dangerously high.
“Jesus, Stella,” Jonathan said. “Can’t you keep tabs on your client?”
“Shut up,” Stella shot back. “You didn’t even know what city yours is in.”
“Why are you two together?” Katie asked. She put her chin into her hands and watched me put sandwiches together. I held up the sliced turkey and raised my eyebrows. Vegetarian? I mouthed the word. She shook her head.
“We’re in my office,” Stella said. “Jonathan showed up when he couldn’t get in touch with his client. He thought Travis might be with Katie. We were just discussing it?—”
“Arguing about it,” Jonathan put in.
“Whatever. Then the Instagram thing happened. So we called.”
“Does everyone just stare at Instagram?” I asked, taking out the mayo, holding it up, and putting it back when Katie shook her head. “Katie says everyone does.”
“It’s my job,” Stella snapped. “Katie, why are you in Portland with Travis? Is the deal back on? Is that why you’re following each other?”
Katie and I exchanged a look. We hadn’t discussed whether we’d tell our agents the truth. It was kind of tempting to let Stella and Jon believe they were interrupting us in bed. I shrugged at Katie, letting her know it was her call.
She took a breath. “Travis invited me to stay with him,” she said. “I decided to take him up on it. I wanted to get out of L.A. for a while.”
“You did?” Stella asked. “We didn’t discuss it.”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” Katie said. “I’m taking a break.”
“With Travis,” Stella said.
“With Travis,” Katie replied, and our gazes locked again. I waggled my eyebrows. She suppressed a smile.
“Travis,” Jonathan broke in, “what are you doing in Portland? I didn’t know you’d ever been there.”
“I’ve played plenty of shows here,” I said, stacking our sandwiches and lifting the bread knife to cut them. “I came here to work on a solo album.”
There was silence from all three of the other people on the call. Katie’s lips parted in surprise.
“There’s an album in the works?” Jonathan sounded delighted, probably because for the first time in our association, I might actually make him some money.
“Well, I just got here,” I said. “But I’ve talked to Finn Wiley. He’s going to set me up at the Road Kings’ studio.”
“You hate the Road Kings,” Jon said.
I nodded. “I do. That reminds me—I’m going to need a guitar. Mine are in storage back in L.A.”
“I’ll get one of your guitars out of storage,” Jon said immediately. “Just tell me where to go and which one you want.” The promise of a paycheck made him suddenly friendly.
I handed Katie her sandwich on a plate and made a thoughtful humming sound. “Actually, I don’t want one of those. I’ll buy a new guitar. There are lots of great music stores here.”
“Do you have funds for a new guitar?” Jon said. “I’ll make sure you have funds. Give me a couple of days, tops. Where are you staying? Do you have enough to get by?”
Katie was watching me, ignoring her sandwich. Her lips were still parted. She looked somewhat in awe.
“I’m covered for a place to stay,” I said. “I might need a few other things, though. I’m going to be here a while.”
“Whatever you need. You’ll have it,” Jon said.
“Excuse me,” Stella broke in, annoyed. “Katie, what about your work schedule? When are you coming back to L.A.? I have people waiting for answers.”
Katie looked at me. Then she sat straighter, putting her shoulders back. “I’m taking a break,” she told Stella, her voice polite but firm. “I’ll be back for The Love Fix-Up promo work, but that’s it.”
“What about these scripts?” Stella asked.
“No,” Katie said. “No to the mom script. No to the plumber script. No to the cheer coach and to the Montana thing. No to all of them. If something good comes to you, then send it, and I’ll decide. But in the meantime, I’m taking time to rethink the direction of my career.”
To her credit, Stella only hesitated for a second, swallowing that news. But she couldn’t quite help herself. “How much time? I need specifics.”
“I don’t have specifics,” Katie said, and she only winced a little bit as she said it. “I just…need some time off for once. And you can forget about the replacements for Travis.”
There were replacements for me? She had been thinking about a different fake boyfriend? The hell with that.
“All right,” Stella said. “Call me later, Katie. We’ll talk. If you need anything else, I’m here.”
After we hung up, Katie sat in silence, as if surprised. “I can’t believe I just did that,” she said softly. “I haven’t taken a break in over ten years. And she just… said yes.”
“Welcome to the rock star life, Katie,” I said. “You were born for it.”
She smiled. Then she picked up her sandwich and dug in.