“For fuck sakes, no means no!” My eyes cut, slightly aware I was in a public store. Eying the lady in front of me, I could tell she wanted to say something about my crude language, but decided against it on the last second. The faint smile on my face appeared wider when she quickly left, going towards another section.
“Skylar,” Mark tried once again, his tone almost desperate. “Just think about it—”
“Mark,” I argued, pitching the bridge of my nose. “Meetups and signings are a no-go for me. I thought we already went through this when I signed the damn contract?”
“Yes but—”
“But no,” I cut him off. “Tell them I’m sick or something.”
“Skylar, this is a big opportunity for—”
“Yeah, yeah. To grow as an author. To get more popular. Blah blah blah.” I rolled my eyes at his pathetic excuse. Does the word anonymous not mean anything to him anymore?
“Exactly, so—”
“—So, no. Right Mark?” I asked, smiling sweetly, knowing that he could hear the forewarning under my facade.
“Fine.” He blew out an exasperated breath, as I heard a loud bang in the background. I chuckled quietly knowing that it was him probably slamming his knuckles on his desk. “But you’re really disappointing your fans here,” he added afterwards, hoping to guilt trip me into accepting his offer.
“Yeah and I need to keep my identity a secret,” I shot back, as I pushed the fan's disappointment to the back of my head.
“Alright Skylar,” he said, sounding defeated. “I’ll make the call now.”
“Wait,” I cried, halting mid-step. “Before you do that, did you ever figure out the deadline?” Apparently when Christian asked Mark last week, he had no idea what the hell Christian was talking about. So, I had to call Mark and explain everything before he hung up, and said he’ll talk to him about it.
“Oh yes, that.” Mark chuckled, coughing awkwardly on the other side of the line. I narrowed my eyes, knowing fully well he forgot to tell me. I shook my head, Typical Mark. “He wants his release date to be February 14.”
I froze, hearing that date. The day that meant so much to me. The day where he and I first met. The day when we became friends. The day where I’d lost my virginity to him. The day when we got married. But, it was also the date that he broke me. Destroyed me. Shattered me into a million pieces.
I gulped, almost choking. Why? Why did he pick this date? Why does he want the book out so badly on this date? It couldn’t be because of me, could it?
“D-did he say why?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“No—” He paused, probably gathering his thoughts, “—just that it has to be done by then. Strict orders apparently.”
“Thanks Mark.”
“Bye Skylar.” His voice was pleasant, as I pictured his handsome features twisting up into a full-blown smile.
Lowering my phone from my ear, I was about to hit the end button when I heard the doorbell jigging. Glancing up, I saw a young man walking into the store with his girlfriend glued to his side. I almost gagged seeing their public display of affection—she was literally rubbing herself up against him. I was about to go back to browsing the different books they had in the Teen Fiction section when another voice shouted across the room.
“Get a freaking room!” My eyes widened into saucers when I realized whose voice that was. Shit.
Ducking down quickly, I hid behind the bookshelf, the top of my forehead still peeking out. He was sitting down on a bright orange chair, looking like he’d just been sleeping. Popping his earbuds out, his sharp eyes narrowed down at the couple in front of him.
“Well.” He raised his dark brow. It looked like he was only a second away from losing his patience. “Aren’t you going to leave?”
“Come on sweetheart,” the young man pulled his girlfriend to the side, stepping in front of her. “Ignore that douchebag.”
She giggled, her voice high and squeaky. “Sure thing,” she slurred, pushing her cleavage against his arm. Even though her response was directed towards her boyfriend, her eyes were practically rapping that idiot’s body. I rolled my eyes at her pathetic attempt at flirting. She was clearly a slut if she was practically eye-rapping someone else right in front of her so-called boyfriend.
“You may want to get your eyes check sweetheart,” he said ignoring the young man’s comment, like he wasn’t even there. “I think you’re mistaking me for your boyfriend.”
“W-wa—”
“Also, stop pushing your cleavage out,” he said nonchalantly, covering a loud yawn. “No one wants to see that.”
She gasped, her eyes cutting into slits, looking like she was going to murder him. Her face heated up in fury, as she tried to utter a decent comeback, but failed miserably. I couldn't help but snicker quietly under my breath at that burn. Even though I hated him, I had to admit that that was a pretty good insult.
“Fuck you!” she lashed out, whipping her fake-blonde hair around as she stomped angrily out the way she came in, her boyfriend running right behind her. The last thing I heard before the couple disappeared was the boyfriend yelling, “Baby wait! I love seeing your cleavage! They’re beautiful!”
“Drama queen.” He chuckled, as he stretched his arms upwards. Seeing his white-collared shirt raise up slightly, my eyes automatically drifted to his stomach. Ignoring his define v-line, my eyes landed on the book that was placed on his stomach. And that’s when I noticed it—the cover.
There was no mistake about it. It was my cover. My book—Taming the Beast.
“What the hell is that idiot doing with my book?” I asked under my breath, watching him closely.
Scooting backward in his seat, his hands grasped the book firmly before picking it up. His bright green eyes dimmed slightly, as he stared at the front cover. Seeing his muscular hand ran across the smooth surface, the corners of his lips lifted upwards into a small smile. Even though he was smiling, I could tell it wasn’t a joyful smile. It was more of a sorrowful kind of smile.
“You finally did it,” I heard him say. “Your dreams are finally coming true.” He let out a forced laugh, drawing the attention of some people passing by. He ignored them, probably never even seeing them in the first place. It was like he was in his own little world, oblivious to anything going around him.
“I remember you’d always wanted to be a writer,” he started saying, his eyes drawing red, watering. “How you’d stayed up to four o’clock in the morning just to finish a draft even though you had class the next morning.” My brow arched down in confusion. Wait—a minute. Is he talking about me? “I was right there behind you, you know. Anything you needed, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But then that happened.” His eyes clouded up in anger in a flash, throwing the book harshly down on his lap. “Why, Kylie!?”
I gasped hearing my old nickname coming out of his mouth. Shit—does that mean what I think it means? Shit. Shit. Shit. How the fuck did he even find out? There’s no way he knew in the beginning—right? I mean he’s not that good of an actor. Oh my God. Crap, crap, crap! What the fuck do I do now—
“Why?” he interrupted my mental breakdown, as I heard his voice break down in agony. “Why did you do it? Why!?” he repeated, as a crowd started gathering around him. They were all staring at him weirdly, wondering what the hell he was on. “Why did you have to break my heart Kylie? Why?”
I shot up in surprise. Break his heart? What. The. Fuck?