Then I was stricken by an idea.
I pulled out my bag of multicolored pens and let them roll along the coffee table next to me and picked up the gold one. Holding it steadily in my hand, I wrote Leo’s name in my notebook. The cursive L shimmered with the sparkling gold ink.
I did the same for the other guys, and within a few minutes, I had Mason’s name in blue, Reese’s name in purple, and Oliver’s name in green beneath his.
Then I went through the pages I’d filled up with all of my desired qualities, and drew colored boxes around each of them that corresponded to the colors of each guy.
I didn’t know what I was expecting; by the time I was done, I just had a huge mess of inked pages, with lines connecting some words, some things circled, some emphasized, and others crossed out.
It was a mess, just like I was.
Did I even know what I wanted anymore? It seemed like the more I searched for it, the more the answer hid from me.
I put the corner of the blue pen in my mouth. What was it about Mason that was so enchanting to me? Searching through the pages, it was easy to see all of the things I’d outlined in blue. They were all physical things — the way he looked, the way he moved, the way he touched me…
A bead of sweat rolled down my temple, thinking of the way his body moved on top of mine…
I’d never had sex like that in my life. It was so real; we were so connected.
But then as soon as he was done with me, he was on his way. He made me feel used.
I angrily crossed out his name with the blue pen. My heartmate would never make me feel that way.
I shook the angry thought away and picked up the green pen. Oliver.
It was easy to spot the green outlined words throughout the pages: Talented, passionate, understands me…
I thought of when we were walking in the town yesterday, how he called me an artist. Because of his words, for the first time in my life, I felt… important. I felt like I could finally call myself an artist, even though I would’ve never reached that conclusion on my own. He made me feel accepted. But at the same time, he also made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
I crossed out his name in the green ink, too.
Then I picked up the gold pen and looked over the qualities I’d circled for Leo. The one thing that I had with him that I didn’t share with anyone else was that indescribable quality; that x-factor. It was the thing that tethered me to him; that undeniable attraction we shared. He was also open and honest, and did his best to clear the air of any drama that was lingering between us. That was a huge plus…
But he was also emotionally inaccessible; stoic to a fault. I made myself vulnerable to him earlier and he glossed over everything, insisting on keeping me at arm’s length. Boring Guy was like that, too.
With a scathing scratching noise, I crossed his name out.
That left Reese. He was older, sure, but there was something there. All of the words outlined with the purple ink were about who I wanted to be; what I admired. Creative, passionate, dedicated, were outlined multiple times with different colors. Then there was the one phrase that only had a bright purple outline: Makes me famous.
Chapter Nineteen
I pressed the pen to the paper and watched as the violet ink began to pool in one spot.
Was that really what I wanted out of this? To be famous?
Technically, Mason would have made me famous, right? Since I was in that scene with him already…
I closed my eyes and remembered how it felt when his fingers ran along my body for the cameras, and how easy it was to believe that they were running down my body for me. How it was just like the night before when we were alone together and we had that beautiful, otherworldly sex…
My memory shifted to anger and betrayal when I remembered that Cheshire Cat smirk on his face when he left my trailer, and how he was still acting like nothing significant had happened between us.
He was just like all the others; some arrogant, cocky bastard who used people until he got what he wanted, then left.
My mood was soured again as I drained the tea.
I wrapped myself in the blanket tighter as the sun slowly sank over the cliffs.
Around this time, Reese was having some kind of discussion with the producers about keeping me on for more scenes. My future hinged on his argument for me, and how fiercely he was willing to fight for me.
I didn’t know how angry Alina was with me, or if she would stay that way. Logic told me that she’d come around eventually, but from the way her eyes looked at me with that expression of betrayal, I couldn’t be so sure.
If Reese wasn’t able to convince the producers to write me into the show, and if Alina decided to get rid of me as her stylist, my fate would be sealed. I’d have to go back to L.A., and all of this glamor and fame would vanish like waking up from a dream.
I sighed heavily and crawled into bed for a nap, holding the journal tightly in my arms as if it was my heartmate.
The last thing I felt before I closed my eyes was an overwhelming desire to talk to Hazel.
I awoke the next morning to a knock on my door.
Sitting up with a start, surprised percolated my senses as I realized that I’d slept through the night. The dazzling morning light poured in the window and laid across my bed in brilliant bands.
“Shit,” I hissed, trying to smooth my hair
