Free Hard & Fast (Rules to Break #1) by Ana Gabriel

as I glance around the room, it’s obvious that no one’s giving me a second look so I give in to it.
    He’s leaning back in his seat, relaxed and slouchy in front of his current interviewer, a woman who obviously never met a can of hairspray she didn’t like. The lights are bright, the air-con is up high, and there are cameras everywhere. Cole smiles, like he’s smiled at the exact same question all day, and I can see the effect he has on everyone in the room. They’re all leaning in towards him. The interviewer touches the back of her neck, her hair moving in one solid mass as she trails her fingertips down the side of her neck. I can’t tell if she’s self-conscious or flirting, nervous about her job or just plain unsettled by how good-looking Cole is.
    It could be all of the above.
    I watch as Cole talks with easy grace and the interviewer laughs. Next to him, Kenzie is leaning in too, her legs crossed towards him. She has the most impossibly immaculate skin I have ever seen. Seriously, it’s inhuman. Her teeth are perfect and so white I never want to open my own mouth again. She laughs and reaches over, touching Cole’s leg when he says something, drawing her into the conversation.
    I’ve now seen them run through this little act ninety one times. And yes, I’m counting, because it feels like a little twist of a knife in my gut every time for no particular reason that I care to identify.
    The interviewer gets her last question in and they all laugh, Kenzie’s hand resting loosely on Cole’s leg now, with her beautiful nails and her stupid beautiful skin. In the few seconds between Hairspray hustling out and the next guy moving in, Kenzie leans in to Cole, saying something low in his ear. Her swooshy salon hair falls long and curling over his shoulder and he smiles at whatever quick comment she made before she flips her hair back. A genuine, warm, unbearably great smile.
    This is quite literally the last thing on this earth I want to be subjected to watching. If I die and go hell, it will be an eternal press junket with Kenzie and Cole.
    There’s a quick flurry of movement at the front of the room and I snap up from my slump against the wall as Kenzie moves past me and out of the door. Her assistant trots after her and they both disappear into a ladies room while the rest of the guys at the front stretch their legs and swig from water bottles.
    I go to step forward, speak to Cole, ask him if he needs me to do anything, but he’s staring after Kenzie with a look on his face that stops me dead. He looks intense. Absorbed. As though he’s thinking hard about something. 
    His glance darts up to me. I look away, pretend to be digging in my bag.  
    ~
    The shower curtain whips open.
    I scream.
    “Where’s your passport,” Cole asks.
    “God, Cole,” I exhale, my heart racing. “You scared the shit out of me.”
    “Passport—do you have one?” His eyes are wide and bright, and he’s tensed like he’s ready to run a marathon. Not even glancing down at my wet, naked breasts. “Quick, Rose,” he adds.
    I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Yes. It’s in my nightstand. Why?”
    He whips the curtain closed and disappears. The shower hisses in the sudden silence. Disappointment and regret fight a war inside me. Last night, I felt completely justified in my revenge. Even this morning, I woke up with a smug smile on my lips before the press junket wiped it off. Now, I just feel . . . worried.
    I hurry to rinse the soapsuds off my body and turn off the water, wrapping myself in one of the plush towels hanging on the rack outside. Steam floats out of the bathroom as I step into the hallway. Cole’s booming voice carries from downstairs. I wind down the steps, but pause outside of the kitchen, realizing that he might be meeting with someone and that I’m wearing next to nothing.
    “That’s Rose Weatherston. W-E-A-T-H-E-R-S-T-O-N,” he says, spelling it out. A jolt goes through me. “January 12 th ,