Chapter 2

A few weeks after the party, Del brought it up while I was sorting through her latest shipment.

"Okay but honestly — do you like him?"

I shook my head without looking up. "Beckett? That's not going to happen and we both know it."

I kept counting. "He likes you though. When he thinks you're not watching, he tracks you around the room."

Del went quiet. Then something in her face settled.

"Yeah," she said. "Obviously."

She knew. She just needed to hear it out loud.

Three months later I was down close to fifteen pounds. Del had been taking credit for it in her content since month two.

The charity run was her event. I'd work the brand sample station at the two-mile mark while she jogged the opening stretch for footage. My job was to stand there, look like progress, and make her program look good.

Last time, it was Del who went down on the course. She fainted right at the two-mile mark — heat, crowd, perfect timing — and Beckett spent the rest of the day at her side.

This time I was the one working the two-mile station.

I waited until enough people were around, then sat down against the barrier and put my head between my knees. Made it look bad enough to matter.

Del jogged past. She slowed.

"The station's unattended. Can you push through?"

She looked at me for about one second, then kept moving.

Someone from further up the course turned back around. Swim team bib, easy stride. He got me into the shade, pressed a cool pack to the back of my neck, told me to breathe slow. No fuss. When I steadied, he stood to go, made it two steps, then stopped.

He turned back. Held out his phone, contact page open.

His ears were red.

I put my number in. He nodded once and walked off without his name.

Del showed up ten minutes later on Beckett's arm, head drooping against his shoulder. She'd gone down herself somewhere near the finish line — also the heat, apparently, also very suddenly — and Beckett had come running.

She lifted her head when she saw me. Then saw the cool pack on the back of my neck.

"Oh, Wren — you too?" She straightened, pressed a hand to her temple. "Beckett, can you grab one of those for me—"

A volunteer was already heading my way with a fresh pack. Del redirected them with a look.

I reached up. "Here, take this one—"

Beckett's hand closed around my wrist before I could pull it off. He pressed it back.

Del stared at him.

"I need that," she said.

He didn't look at her. He looked at me.

"You've been putting in five a.m. sessions for three months. Del's been keeping me updated the whole time." A beat. "You did this to get my attention. She set this up."

Right there. Del two feet away.

"So let's go out."

I looked at him like he'd said something mildly confusing.

"Who said any of this was for you?"

He almost smiled.

I said I needed some air and walked out before anyone could stop me.

Del showed up at my room that night.

No lead-in.

"I put you in my program. My content, my contacts, my time — I am the reason your body looks the way it does right now." Her voice was steady in a way that meant she was working to keep it that way. "And the first thing you do with it is go seduce my guy."

"I didn't seduce anyone. He asked me a question."

"You were playing dumb right in front of me and we both know it."

I looked at her.

"He's not yours," she said. "I'm just letting you know."