Tell Me It’s Right (Sweetspire #1)

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

GRACIE

“Liam! Would you stop being so awkward?”

He huffs out a breath and kicks the skateboard into his hand, his other fist resting on his hip. “I’m not a model!”

“Oh wait, maybe hold that pose.” I lower to my knee and reframe the shot. It’s just how I imagined it—the contrast of the industrial look of the skatepark with the sunset and ocean water in the background. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

“That’s impossible with you barking orders,” he mutters and runs a hand through his hair.

I grab as many shots as I can. This I can work with. When he’s distracted and yelling at me and not focusing on the fact there’s a camera pointed at him, I might actually grab some good candids.

Everything else is…painful to look at. Especially with all the extra scowling he’s doing today.

“I really don’t see what the point of this is,” he adds. “It’s a tattoo shop. It’s not like I sell skating gear.”

“Turn a little so I can see the backs of your legs more.”

“Oh, you like these?”

“I meant the tattoos,” I say flatly. “Now start running like you’re going to do a trick thingy.”

“Trick thingy,” he repeats under his breath with a shake of his head. But he does what I ask.

I don’t care if he sees my vision for the pictures as long as he keeps doing what I say.

What he doesn’t understand is social media marketing is about more than just showing a product. You have to get people to care. To connect. They want faces, names, personalities. They want a reason to choose you over someone else.

And, I hate to admit it, Liam Brooks looks good on a skateboard. I’d be stupid not to take advantage of that.

“Okay, come back! I want a close-up of your arm holding the board. Stand…here!” I point to the spot that’ll give just a hint of interest in the background.

When he steps in front of me, he’s grinning.

“What?” I demand.

He shakes his head, that damn smile still in place. “I’ve never seen you this bossy.”

“Shut up.”

“Careful. I might be into that kind of thing.”

“Would you just turn around?” I twirl a finger in the air for emphasis. “Hold the board how you normally would down by your side.”

“You’re making me feel like a piece of meat.”

“Do you want me to do my job or not? Face forward.”

He obliges, and I shift side to side, trying to find the best shot.

The truth is, I’m just relieved nothing feels weird between us today. After three days of radio silence, he texted me the upcoming schedule, and I sent him what I managed to accomplish while I was off and asked if I could shadow him the next time he went skating for some pictures.

He hasn’t told me where he disappeared to, and I haven’t asked. Not that I’m not painfully curious, but I could tell from the hesitation in his body language when he showed up today that he didn’t want me to. It seems we’re also going to pretend him taking care of me at my bedside on Monday never happened, and I’m fine with that.

“Okay, fine,” I sigh, rising to my feet. “I think I’m all good here.”

He throws his head back in a dramatic sigh. “Thank God. You hungry? Think I’m gonna grab some lunch before heading back to the shop.”

I pause putting the lens lap on the camera. He’s asking me to eat? With him?

“I—yeah, I could eat.”

“That sandwich shop on Main okay?”

I nod as I dig my phone out of my bag to see what all the buzzing’s about. It’s been going off nonstop for the past ten minutes. There’s a string of missed calls and FaceTimes from Marti, followed by some texts in all caps.

I gasp and cover my hand with my mouth.

“What is it?” Liam demands.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, my hand shaking as I jab at the screen until it opens the texts. “Oh my God .”

“What is it?”

I hear Liam’s footsteps get closer, but I swat at him when he tries to look at my phone as I read the text over again to make sure I understood it right.

“What the hell is?—”

“Jared Morgan was cast as Hunter.”

“I—what?”

My eyes snap up to his, and I let out a frustrated groan as I realize there’s no one around who will fully appreciate this news. I need to call Marti back, but preferably not somewhere in public where people will stare at me for screaming.

“There’s this movie adaptation being made for a book that a friend and I really love,” I explain in a rush, but Liam’s face just scrunches up further in confusion. “And we’ve been waiting on casting news, and they finally announced who will be playing the male lead. Jared Morgan.” I hold my phone out so he can see the screenshot Marti sent me.

Liam cocks his head and squints. “Didn’t you have posters of him on your wall in high school?”

My jaw drops open, and I yank my phone back.

As a matter of fact, I did, and there is no way he should remember that.

“So, this is good news?”

I throw my hands up and let out another string of unintelligible noises. “It’s…shocking.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Shocking?”

“He’s been in a ton of legal battles with these women who claim he did terrible things— he claims they’ve been stalking him and they never even met. No one has been willing to cast him in anything in years . There are, like, several documentaries on how drastic his fall from grace was. I can’t believe you don’t know this.”

“You’re right. This stuff really is right up my alley,” he deadpans.

I lift my chin. “You pretend to be above it, yet you recognized a picture of him immediately.”

He smirks and heads toward his truck in the parking lot. “So are we happy he got it or not?”

“I don’t know.” The teenage girl version of me who was mildly obsessed with him? Absolutely. The version of me now who isn’t sure if he did those things… and there’s a chance—even if it’s microscopic—that Marti could end up working with him? Conflicted.

She seemed excited about it based on the texts though. She was saying on a video chat the other day her agent thought she had a much better chance at the role if they secured a big name for the male lead. If they have one well-known actor to help draw an audience, they might be more willing to take a chance on someone like her.

“Heard Leo and Keava are driving up to Philly for the weekend,” Liam adds.

“Her sister’s wedding,” I say absently as I chew on my thumbnail. “They’re heading out tonight for the rehearsal dinner.”

“We can throw your bike in the back.”

Once I get the lock undone, I reach down to carry it over, but Liam beats me to it and hefts the bike into the truck bed.

“You throwing a party while he’s gone?”

“As if I’d tell you. You’d report back to Leo.”

“That sounds like a yes to me.”

“No. I’m just glad he won’t be around tonight to interrogate Miles,” I mutter under my breath.

Liam goes still. “Miles Cushing?”

Shit, I have no idea why I said that.

“You know him?” I ask lightly, though of course he does. Miles is friends with his brother, not to mention the first time I met him was in Liam’s shop. I try to laugh it off. “Oh wait, never mind.”

He meets my eyes as he opens the car door for me, and I can’t quite read the look on his face. The humor in his eyes is gone now though. “I didn’t realize you two…talked.”

I shrug as I climb into the truck. “He’s taking me to dinner tonight.”

Liam hesitates before closing the door, then he’s back to scowling as he rounds the truck and climbs in the driver’s side. “Where are you going?”

“Um, I can’t remember the name. It’s not in town.”

A strange tension descends over us as he starts the car, and his jaw keeps flexing like he’s holding back from saying something.

“What is it? You don’t approve ?” I tease.

His scowl deepens as he pulls onto the road. “All I know is every time my brother’s gotten into trouble, Miles has been right at his side.”

A flash of last night appears in my head. How casually Asher whipped out drugs, like he does it all the time. And maybe he does.

But Miles had seemed uncomfortable. And he said no.

Maybe Asher is the bad influence is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t know if that’s crossing a line. Liam doesn’t talk about his siblings much. I have no idea how close they are.

“Luckily I only agreed to dinner, not a marriage. Yet.”

He gives me an unamused sideways glance. But to my relief, he drops it. “You’re not planning on posting these all over the new website, are you?”

I bat my eyelashes. “Only if you’re mean to me.”

The scowl returns, and I sigh. “I promise to let you look them over and veto any you don’t like once I’m finished editing them, okay?”

His shoulders relax a bit at that. “Just don’t make me look like a douche,” he mutters.

I pat his leg. “Don’t know if there’s much I can do about that. I’m not a miracle worker.”

I swat Liam’s hand away for the third time. “Would you knock it off? You have your own chips!”

“Yours are better.” He smirks as he manages to steal another from the edge of my plate and pops it in his mouth.

Our timing seems like it was just right today. Beach Bunz isn’t a very big restaurant to begin with. Add in a crowd, and you can barely squeeze through the door. It was bustling with activity when we first stepped inside, but by the time we finished ordering at the counter, it cleared out enough for us to grab one of the small tables out front beneath the gigantic rainbow umbrellas.

When they leave the door propped open like this, the whole block smells like freshly baked bread. The day’s heat is in full swing by now, but the shade and breeze are so comfortable I could sit out here all day. I eagerly dig into my sandwich—the best white bean and avocado I’ve ever had, even though it falls apart as I try to eat it.

“So your friend Marti already sent in her audition for this zombie movie?” says Liam. “Those books sold a lot—so this is like a big deal, right?”

I nod as I chew. “Millions. They’ve sold millions of copies. She’s downplaying it. I think because she’s afraid to get her hopes up. But I think it’s a big deal she even got to audition. I don’t know anything about how all that works, so maybe she’s right and getting an audition doesn’t mean much.”

His eyebrows rise as he takes another bite of his sandwich. I’d expected him to go for one of the seafood ones they’re known for, but he ended up getting the same thing as me. Judging by the way he’s already down to the last few bites, he must like it. “She in LA now?”

“Yeah, she’s from there originally. Her family’s really cute. It’s like a village. All her aunts, uncles, cousins—they all live on the same block. I spent Thanksgiving with them one year.”

“Oh yeah, I remember you didn’t come home for it last year.”

My eyes flick up to meet his. He breaks the contact almost immediately and refocuses on his sandwich. He’s been expertly steering the conversation away from anything to do with him since the moment we sat down.

And I thought I could mind my business, I really did, and yet I find myself blurting out, “Where were you?”

He tosses another chip in his mouth. “For Thanksgiving that year? With your family, as usual.”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

Finally, he meets my eyes, and it’s like I can see the thoughts churning beneath the surface as he decides if he’s going to tell me. I know the moment a corner of his mouth kicks up that he won’t. “Why? You miss me?”

“Desperately,” I deadpan.

His smirk grows as he tosses his napkin on his plate, but the look in his eyes is different now. There’s a heaviness behind them that wasn’t there before, and I mentally kick myself for bringing it up.

He checks his watch and sighs. “You ready to head back to the shop? Next appointment’s in twenty.”

He’d seemed fine at work on Monday. What could have possibly happened from the time he left my bed to later that night when he texted me about the shop being closed?

But I let it drop, because of course I’m not the person he’d want to talk about it with. I force a smile as he piles the rest of our trash together to throw out.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”