ADA

Liam's bodyguard is waiting for us by the front door. He glances at our clasped hands then looks at Liam and shakes his head. The tense expression on his face has me rethinking this whole plan. I start to pull my hand back, but Liam doesn't let go. His long fingers wrap tighter around mine. He squeezes my hand, sending tingles up my arm. It's like my body is hard-wired to respond to this ridiculously beautiful boy, regardless of how annoying he is.

"The two of you are going to cause a damn riot." The bodyguard crosses his arms, making his ginormous biceps bulge.

"Everything's going to be fine. You worry too much, Briggs." Liam claps him on the shoulder. His voice is sure, but his eyes keep flicking to the door in a way that makes me think he isn't quite as confident as he's pretending to be.

"Literally my job." Liam's bodyguard frowns.

Liam chuckles, turning to me. "This is Briggs by the way. Briggs, this is Ada and Elodie."

"Hey," Elodie chimes. I glance over my shoulder at her. She's grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet like she can't wait to get out there. I wish I could bottle her enthusiasm.

The mob outside the Met was overwhelming. It's not an experience I'm eager to repeat. But I also can't pass up the points I'll get for pictures of the two of us walking out together. Plus, riding home with Liam will give me the chance to dig for more information about his past. There has to be more to his story than what he told me over dessert.

"Alright, you two," Briggs gestures at Elodie and Wesley, "you're going to head out first. I've got a team out front to assist. And you," he glares at Liam, "wait for me to go with you. Are you ready?"

Knowing there's a team of security guards waiting for us helps soothe my frantic nerves. Liam glances at me, and I nod, trying to plaster on a stiff smile.

I must fail, because Liam laughs out loud. "Oh my god. You've got to be the worst actor I've ever met."

Indignation swells, and I sink my nails into the palms of my hands. Liam winces, and I realize that that was actually his palm, since I'm still holding his hand. Good. "We can't all be teen prodigies, you know," I grumble.

Liam makes a noise in his throat like I'm frustrating him. "I'm not asking for an Academy-Award-worthy performance here," he says. "But maybe try to stop grimacing?"

"I'm not grimacing. I'm smiling." I stretch my grin wider, and Liam blinks at me.

"Okay, you need to quit doing whatever that is immediately." Liam gestures at my face, and I scowl at him.

"Fine. If you're such an expert, show me how it's done." I plant a hand on my hip.

Liam quirks an eyebrow at me, and I watch as his face slowly transforms into a smile that makes his eyes sparkle. His perfectly white teeth gleam against his golden skin. He's so completely irresistible, he could charm the coat dress and stockings off the freaking Queen of England.

"That's hideous," I lie forcing myself to look away from his stupid face.

Liam barks out a laugh. "Like I said." He bends down, so his face is only inches from mine. "Worst. Actor. Ever."

"Most. Arrogant. Ass. Ever," I fire back, leaning in closer.

"Here we go," Briggs calls, and we take a step back from each other.

"Maybe just try not smiling at all," Liam suggests. "Shoot for proud and indifferent. That seems like something you could pull off."

I dig my nails into his hand again, and he yelps.

Briggs motions Elodie and Wesley forward as he holds the door open for them.

"Good luck." Elodie squeezes my arm as she sashays past.

Briggs opens the door, and a barrage of light floods my vision as Elodie and Wesley walk out. I can just make out their silhouettes against the blaze. The same panicky feeling I had at the Met clamps around my chest. My breaths turn shallow, and my hands begin to tremble.

Liam turns to face me as the cameras zero in on us. "You all right?"

I look up at him, trying to concentrate on his eyes, but the glittering, reflected lights I see there send sparks of panic flickering through me.

Liam sighs and inclines his head toward me. He's so close, his breath tickles my neck, making me shiver as he says, "You're safe. Briggs is the best. He won't let anything happen."

I know he's putting on a show for the photogs watching us through the open door, but some of my anxiety eases anyway and my breathing starts to slow.

I square my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension. "Okay," I breathe, "let's do this." I turn to face the sea of flashbulbs.

Liam is right next to me. His broad hand wraps around my waist, and I lean into him as we step out onto the sidewalk and into a flurry of light and sound.

Liam's name rings out in every direction, but my own echoes through the crowd as well. I'm distantly aware of the honking horns and sounds of the city that permeate the night, but they feel far away, out of focus. The only things that seem real are the throng of people pushing in on us and the warmth of Liam's hand around me.

I try to keep a neutral expression on my face as I scan the swarm of people for any photographers I recognize from Huntley. But the contrast of the bright lights and the inky sky makes my eyes burn. I can barely see.

Briggs and the other security guards keep between us and the mob, forcing them to stay back. Hands reach from all directions, but they don't let anyone make contact.

It can't take more than a minute, but it feels like hours before we make it to the waiting town car. The shiny paint is nothing but rebounding light. I can't even tell what color it is. Briggs swings the door open, and Elodie and Wes climb in.

Liam's palm drifts to the small of my back, as I duck inside and scoot to the other side of the bench seat so he can climb in after me. Briggs slams the door behind Liam, muffling the sound outside. It's like having cotton stuffed in my ears.

"That was awesome!" Elodie cries.

I gaze past Liam, blinking numbly at the horde surrounding us. People are crying, leaving smudged fingerprints across the windows as they attempt to get closer to Liam and Wesley. Paps push their cameras right against the window, trying to take shots inside the car.

Liam waves a hand in front of my face. "Don't go into shock on me over there."

I try to laugh, but it comes out more like a squawk.

Briggs dives into the passenger seat as the driver begins edging through the masses and out into the street.

"You okay?" Liam sounds almost concerned.

I take a shaky inhale, breathing in the rich scent of new car and leather. "I'm fine. That was—" I pause, searching for the right word. "Intense. How long did it take you to get used to that?"

The light sparking in Liam's eyes dims, and he looks down at the floor. "I haven't. That isn't something you get used to."

He doesn't say he has to deal with the fear and frenzy I just experienced, because of the paparazzi. Because of people like me. But the thought is there, written in the hunted look in his eyes. Something like guilt flickers inside my chest, but I smother it. He chose this life.

"Where to?" The driver calls from the front seat.

I wait for Elodie to give him her address, but she's too caught up talking to Wesley to pay any attention. I rattle off directions to my brownstone and recline back against the headrest, pressing a hand to my still-pounding heart.

"Not as easy on this side of the camera as you thought, huh?" The smirk on Liam's face is smug.

"Listen, Brad Pitt," I jab a finger at him, "that was bananas out there, but it's way harder to be the person who has to take the pictures."

Liam scoffs. "Yeah, right."

I lean forward, elbows resting against my knees. "You couldn't hack it as a paparazzo for five minutes."

Liam mimics my posture, bending in, so we're sitting much too close together on the back seat. "Is that a challenge?"

"Oh, it's absolutely a challenge. Have you ever done a day of actual work in your life?"

"I've been working fifty-plus hour weeks since I was fifteen years old."

"I mean real work, not reading lines and pretending to be someone else. Being a photog means chasing celebrities around the city in ninety-degree weather and doing whatever it takes to get a shot. You couldn't hang."

"Name a time and place, picture girl."

"Liam—" Briggs warns from the front seat.

"You busy tomorrow?" I ask.

"Actually, no. They're filming Faye and Wesley's scenes all day."

"Great. Meet me at the 1st Avenue L station near East Village at eight o'clock."

"Station? As in subway station?" Liam's eyes go wide.

"Let me guess, you've never ridden the subway before have you?"

"I have. It's just been a minute."

"I'm sure." I scoff. "So are you in, Superstar, or are you too scared?"

"Oh, I'm in." Liam turns the full force of that smile on me, and I feel the lightest brush of a butterfly's wing inside my chest.

"The subway? Liam, you can't be serious," Briggs groans from the front seat.

"Briggs, get on board," Liam calls to him. "This is happening." He returns his attention to me. "So what do I get if I win?"

"If you win?"

"This is a bet, isn't it? What do I get if I can hang with you all day as a photog?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "What do you want?"

"I want you to kiss me."

My heart comes to a screeching halt. "Excuse me?"

"Not for real obviously." Liam shrugs. "Just something to make sure the paps believe this thing between us is legit."

I hesitate, and Liam stares at me, waiting for an answer. His eyes skitter over my face, making my stomach cartwheel. A muscle works in his jaw, and I have the strangest urge to run my fingers over it. The car swerves, and the driver lays on his horn, muttering something about idiot cabbies.

I puff out my cheeks, heaving a sigh. I could end up regretting this, but there's no way Liam's going to be able to handle working as a pap for an entire day. "And what do I get when I win?"

"I'll take both of you," Liam gestures between Elodie and me, "to a party at the Rainbow Room in Rockefeller Plaza this weekend."

"I know where the Rainbow Room is," I snap. It's one of the glitziest celebrity watering holes in the city. I could get some spectacular pictures there.

"Deal," I agree.

"Oh, hells yassss!" Elodie high fives Wesley, of course choosing that moment to start listening to our conversation. Wesley puts an arm around her, and she gazes up at him with absolute stars in her eyes. A lead weight settles in my gut.

I orchestrated this whole charade, and it's tricky enough for me to keep the line between what's real and what's pretend from blurring. Elodie jumps into everything whole-heartedly. If she lets her imagination run wild with ideas of her and Wesley, she could seriously get hurt.

Liam notices me watching the two of them and frowns. He tilts his head, so his mouth is right next to my hair. "I'm not throwing shade on my boy, but she does know he's kind of a player, right?"

He seems genuinely concerned for her, which does unexpected things to my heart rate and makes me even more worried about Els.

"I really hope so."

Liam clears his throat. "I should probably get your number."

I blink at him. "You want my number? Why?"

Liam laughs. "Relax. It'll be a lot easier to meet up tomorrow if I can call you. I'll text you, so you've got mine too."

"That makes sense...I guess." My eyebrows pinch together because it sort of doesn't. Liam could message me on social media anytime. Celebrities don't give out their numbers lightly. It's strange that he'd want me to have it.

But I give him my number, and he types it into his phone.

When we pull up in front of my building, I thank Briggs and the driver and unbuckle my seatbelt. Liam reaches over and unclips his too, reaching for the door handle like he's going to get out of the car.

"What are you doing?" I blurt.

"Um..." He glances up at my building.

"There aren't any cameras out here." I motion at the empty street. Other than the glow coming from the windows of the brownstones and the old-fashioned lampposts, everything is dark and still. "I don't need you to walk me to the door."

"Right. Of course you don't." Liam sits back. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, almost like he's embarrassed. If he were anyone else, it would be adorable.

"Yeah, you will." The words come out sounding more flirtatious than I intended, and heat creeps up my chest. "I'm gonna go now." I turn to climb out.

"Hey, Ace?" Liam calls. I look back at him. The blue of his eyes is almost luminescent in the light of the streetlamp.

"Yeah?"

"Have a good night." He shoots me one of those trademark crooked grins of his.

"Uh, you too." I shut the door before the flurry of emotion that grin ignites can register on my face.

It's not until Elodie and I are halfway to the door that I realize I forgot to try and get any details about his past out of him.