Strike a Pose (Blame It on Fame #1)

41. Willow

Chapter 41

Willow

T hirty minutes later, Riley and I are cuddled up in bed. He’s on his back, wearing only a pair of briefs, and I’m on my side in a pink negligee, with my head and arm resting on his bare chest.

“So, do normal girls typically have sex with country singers?” I ask him.

“The lucky ones,” he responds. I can hear the smile in his voice, even though my eyes are fixed on the New York City skyline sprawled out just beyond my window.

“Speaking from experience?” I prod masochistically.

“As a girl who’s fucked a country singer? No, I can’t say I have any experience with that.” He chuckles, toying with a lock of my hair.

“Fair enough.”

“Or as a country singer fucking normal girls,” he adds. “Don’t have much experience with that either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, since my record came out, I’ve only had sex with two girls—one was a gorgeous, compassionate, smart, witty, leggy, blonde angel on earth—” I hide my smile, though I’m sure he can feel it on his che st. “ —and the other was Willow Jordan.”

“Dick.” I smack him lightly on the stomach.

“Ow,” he moans, as though his rock-hard abs didn’t hurt me more than I hurt them. “At the risk of being hit again,” he says after recovering himself, “I honestly don’t remember the other girl’s name. I’m ashamed to say it, but it’s the truth. I met her at some bar in Nashville in December. Claire had been texting me nonstop that week—unrelated to my success, I’m sure,” he adds sarcastically. “I didn’t respond to a thing she said and changed my number, but she still got in my head. I guess I just wanted to get her out of my system, and I thought that sleeping with someone else would do the trick. But all it really did was make me feel gross. At heart, I’m not the hookup type of guy. Even though I slept around a good bit when I was a teenager, it never felt right. I only did it to fit in, or seem cool or something. Not that there’s anything wrong with liking hookups, it’s just never been me.”

“So wait, you’re telling me you haven’t slept with anyone since December? Since literally last year?”

“Nope.”

“Why not? It wouldn’t have had to be a hookup. I’m sure millions of girls would happily volunteer to be at least friends with benefits.”

“Because you ruined me, Willow.” He huffs a laugh. “After I met you, no one else could measure up.”

I sit up and turn to face him, finding his eyes cast in the dim glow of the city. “You’re seriously telling me you haven’t slept with anyone since we met?”

“Nope,” he answers simply, holding my gaze.

“I haven’t either,” I admit. “Not since December, too, actually. It was with an ex. Just a one-time thing. I’m not the hookup type either. ”

“He’s out of the picture?”

“It was Arm$trong. What do you think?”

Riley erupts in laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, keep laughing. What does it say about my taste in men, though? Think about how that reflects on you.”

He stops laughing.

“That’s what I thought,” I lay my head back on his chest. “No wonder we’ve been all over each other the past twenty-four hours. We’ve been so repressed.”

“I have a feeling it’ll always be like this between us,” he says. “I don’t think I’ll ever be sated around you.”

“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” I ask, changing the subject. “I have a feeling your manager was right. Tomorrow’s going to be a media storm—if it’s not already. I don’t even want to look at my phone.”

“It’s that bad to be seen with me?” he jokes.

“They’re going to rip us to shreds. Both of us. They hate seeing people happy. I just want to make sure you’re absolutely positive that this is what you want.”

“Willow.” His voice is somber now. “I want you. I don’t give a shit about anything else. I can handle it, I promise. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“A year of bad press is worth a minute with you,” he assures me, his large hand rubbing slow circles on my back.

“It’s worth maybe like fifty-one-and-a-half weeks with you,” I reply.

“Still a good deal.”

I smile. “Marginally.”

“So, do famous people have sex with supermodels?” Riley asks, turning my earlier question back on me.

“Definitely. ”

“I guess we’ll have to incorporate that into our fame-soaked New York weekend, then.”

“For authenticity’s sake, of course. One more week to go, then I’ll make sure you have the true famous-person experience, supermodel sex and all.”

“Why wait? I only have two more shows before the break. Come with me.”

“I wish I could, but I have to go back to LA to check in with my family.”

He sighs. “Okay, fair enough. It’s hard to argue with that.”

“It’s hard to argue with me in general,” I tease. “I’m just so cute.”

“And humble, too.”

“But the silver lining is that now we can go out in public together. Since the news has already broken about us.”

“Where would you want to go?”

“The finest restaurant in the city, at a table right in the middle of everything. And a long nighttime walk through Central Park, preferably with Magnolia Bakery’s banana pudding in hand.”

“I think we can manage that.”