Page 46 of Selling Innocence

“And the only thing different is me. I’m the common variable. The only thing I can figure is that you really dislike me, but I can’t figure out why, or what I’ve done.”

I tilted my head as I watched her, even as she tried very hard not to look at me. “So you think that friendly side is really me, huh?”

“I think that most people are at their realest when they’re happy.”

I shook my head at her stupid idea. She’d gotten it all wrong, hadn’t she?

But everyone got that wrong. Hadn’t I learned my lesson enough times?

I turned toward her and closed the distance. Even if she hadn’t wanted to look at me, the way she jerked backward said she’d still been paying attention to me. She retreated, but she had nowhere to go, not in the small elevator together. As soon as she pressed against the wall, I crowded in.

I wasn’t that tall, which meant I only had to look down a few inches to stare right into her wide pretty eyes.

I offered her a false smile, even if it made me sick to my stomach to play this game. And why? Normally falling into these personalities made me feel safe, let me hide, but right now?

It made my head throb worse.

“You like this, huh?” I lifted one hand and brushed my fingers over her soft cheek, rewarded when red colored her flawless skin. “You want me to be nicer to you? To tell you just how lovely you look in your outfit? To tell you that the bronze eye shadow you have on brings out your eyes? That you make my heart race just by smiling?” I leaned in closer, making sure my breath tickled her ear, dropping my voice to a sensual whisper to her.

She sucked in a breath, and I knew if I pressed my hand to her chest, I’d find her heart racing.

Yep, this is what she likes.

I took a step backward, dropping the act, surprised by how heavy it had felt. “You’re like everyone else, every short-sighted, shallow asshole who wants smiles and fake words, just as long as they’re pretty. I don’t hate you, Kenz, but I fucking hate having to play this game so people feel comfortable. Life sucks, and it isn’t always pretty, and fuck you for wanting it to be.”

I turned away, the anger inside of me almost frightening. I’d dealt with people like this all my life, had learned time and time again that only the outside counted, that nothing beyond the surface level mattered, so why did it make me this angry to find Kenz was no different?

She wanted the fake me, the one I showed to everyone else. She assumed I hated her because I didn’t put on that show for her instead of realizing the truth.

I’d shown her the real me, something I rarely did, and her response?

To spit on me and ask for the fake me.

When will I finally learn that no one wants the real me?

* * * *

Kenz

I took a deep breath as the makeup artist applied blush to my cheeks. I never loved having my makeup done, but I’d sat through it enough times to tolerate it.

The woman seemed nice enough, but that didn’t make me more comfortable.

“You look like you’re getting ready to walk the plank,” she said with a laugh as she tilted my face to see her work in better light.

“I’m not used to being on camera,” I admitted. Being in public? Sure, I’d done that plenty, but it was a different matter being filmed. Everything I’d done had been quiet, the sort of people who didn’t want anything about them recorded.

“Well, if you’re on Vance Moore’s arm, you’re going to need to get used to it. That boy has a camera on him most of the time.”

I’m not on his arm. At least, not really. This was just part of his plan to make sure Lorien knew exactly who had me.

They wanted to push as hard as they could, force him to take notice, to make another move. It made me feel like a piece of meat they dangled in front of a starving dog.

However, I had no reason to tell this woman any of that. The reality was that my only choices were to try to escape—and that was a big if—or put up with these men and their plans.

Even if I could escape, it would mean I had to either explain to Nem how I’d failed, how I needed her to swoop in and rescue me, or give up my entire life. Neither option appealed to me.

Which put my ass in this chair, following along with the plans of others—like always.