Page 137 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

“Yes. Do you have plans to write or something?” Slade’s remark is cutting.

I glance at TJ. Did that tone bother him? Stoic, he shakes his head. “Tomorrow will be fine,” he says evenly, hard to read once again.

Our puppeteer gives us the details of the event, mentioning an interview and photos with a celebrity blogger, then adds, “And when you arrive, be sure to kiss each other on the cheek. I’d never ask you to do more, since that’d be inappropriate, but I think you can both handle some hand-holding and cheek kissing. Am I right?”

“I have no problem with stage romance,” I say since I plan to ace this role. The sooner I nail it, the sooner I can get away from the man who belongsonlyin the past.

“Same here,” TJ grits out.

“Excellent. Maybe practice real quick here, then?” Slade suggests.

If it gets me out of here sooner...

I lean in and brush my lips to TJ’s cheek, dusting my jawline against his. A hot spark skates down my spine. That’s inconvenient. But then, TJ’s breath hitches. Ever so faintly.

And I hate that I love the effect I have on him.

“Perfect,” Slade says.

“Perfectly hot,” a voice adds. It’s TJ’s agent. He’s popped into the doorway, and he’s beaming at my fake boyfriend. “Told you door number two was the solution.”

I consider those words as the meeting wraps, and as TJ and I leave the office and step into the elevator together. Maybe I could stand here getting drunk on his aftershave, but I’m nosy too, so I ask the question that’s been nagging me. “Why exactly do you need a door number two?”

TJ stares at the elevator doors as we chug downstairs as if he can’t bear to make eye contact. “I’m late with my book. My agent thinks going on some dates will inspire me,” he says, and he sounds like he’s in so much pain.

Not writing seems so unlike him. He wrote two books a year for a while. “Do you think it will help?” I ask with no snark, just concern.

He meets my gaze, shrugs a little helplessly. “No idea. But nothing has worked so far, so maybe this will.”

I don’t even have to imagine how bad he feels since I know what it’s like when your most precious skill goes missing. “I hope you write again soon.”

“Thanks. Me too.”

When we reach the lobby, it occurs to me maybe he’s been too caught up in his deal to write a book. “Is it because you’re busy with the Webflix deal?”

He scoffs. “You have no idea,” he says, and actually, he’s right.

I don’t have a clue what happened to him and his career. I haven’t followed TJ as I did in the seven years after London.

This time around, it hurt far too much.

When I go home later, I look him up inThe Hollywood Scoop. A headline from Rikki Finch readsDelayed Again!

Turns out several months ago, theTop-Notch Boyfrienddirector took a long vacation. Then the lead actor landed another project, then the writer quit, was rehired, and quit again.

It’s a rom-comedy of errors, the gossip site writes.

For a few heavy seconds, my heart aches for him. I know what it’s like to want something that doesn’t happen.

And to want someone you can’t have.

6

MY NEW NEMESIS

TJ

Aspen spins me around in the leather barber chair, playing his why-do-you-need-a-haircut game. “I’m getting a you-have-a-work-thing vibe,” he says.