I took that long nap—several days in a row. It was like being caught in a fog, in a depression, except for me, it was a state of pensiveness, a place of contemplation. I moved through my routine in zombie-like form, going from task to task not with a lack of enthusiasm, but...not quite there.

How the fuck was I supposed to choose? Cameron was an exemplary boyfriend that I was falling in love with—might have already been in love with—and he treated me with nothing but kindness. He was funny, caring, hot, and deliciously good in bed. But I never got to see him; between his job and all my obligations with Leo, we'd hung out three times in one month, though we spent a lot of time over the phone.

And Leo...well, he was Leo. The dream guy, the beautiful, famous rockstar that every girl yearns to be with; and I was with him, even if it was pretend. But now, he revealed to me it could be real, and I only needed to say the word?

How was I supposed to differentiate my lust from my feelings? Or was my lust the same as my feelings? What I felt for Leo...was it legitimate? Or would it all change if we were officially together, and not for fake?

There were so many risks involved, and I wasn't sure which ones were worth it. Cameron was worth it; but was Leo? Would he metamorphose if we stopped playing?

In the week after Leo's party, I spent my time napping, writing, researching, and taking long walks around town. I visited some of the venues Cameron and I'd been to—the bakeries, the restaurants, the museums—and swung by a few of Leo and I's haunts, too.

When at Laughing Man Café, the paparazzi attacked me, demanding to know where Leo was.

"He's on tour," I reminded them, squeezing out of the shop, regretting having come there in the first place. Leo loved their coffee, but I didn't find it worth the hassle of being hounded by the press.

Leo warned me to refrain from talking to the paparazzi now, feeding into their curiosity. But that day, I'd had enough. I'd gotten cryptic texts from Cameron, and little to nothing from Leo since they left for their southern California tour.

Two days after my failed attempt to have a quiet drink at Laughing Man Café, pictures popped up online of me inside the place, sitting alone and staring into my coffee. Depressed looking, as if I'd lost my puppy or gotten broken up with.

"Oh, no," I said, biting into my morning pastry as I scrolled through the article about me. About me. Not Leo—he was only mentioned in it, in a paragraph stating he'd abandoned me to go on his little tour in California. "This is bullshit."

I wasn't depressed. I recalled the exact moment they snapped those photos, too; their flashes had blinded me, and I'd made the mistake of sitting too close to the window. While I looked outside, they got me as I was squinting and looking away, which resulted in this picture that implied that I was crying. I wasn't.

I exited the article and set my phone down, staring at it as I chewed. Any minute now, it would buzz with a text, or ring with Cameron's call. He'd see the story and flip out; he read everything online about Leo and I, and this was the first time I was showing up on my own.

Seconds after I'd finished my pastry, my phone rang; it was Cameron.

"Hey," I said, struggling to pass my voice as anything but worried. "I'm assuming you saw it?"

We'd been distant for the past week, since photos of Leo and I at the party surfaced on social media. Kissing pictures, snapshots of us rubbing up on the dancefloor, and those fake candid shots of us waking up together. Cameron had seen them, and texted me that they looked authentic, but left it at that.

"We all saw it," said Cameron, his voice shaky. "Petra is freaking out, and Leo is losing it, too. Those assholes are hinting at you two breaking up, which, if I'm not mistaken, isn't the case? You were talking about ending all this, but Leo wasn't aware?"

"It was only talk." I swirled the coffee in my mug, thinking about a second cup. It was eight a.m., and I'd gotten a late start after a night of tossing and turning with nightmares. "I didn't mention it to him and hadn't planned on breaking things off yet. This," I gulped, "was a mistake on my part. All I did was go for a stroll and they...they got me."

"It's okay." Cameron sounded anything but okay; he was masking it, I could tell. "They're vicious, and we all know it. But we need to fix this."

"How?" I walked over to my coffee machine and poured a few more drops into what remained in my mug. "I might have a few pictures I can release on my social media to dispel this, but shouldn't Leo be the one doing something like that?"

"It needs to be fresh. Live." He released a breath and grew so silent I thought we'd lost connection. "We need you to fly out here, to visit with him while he's on tour. For a day or two, come have a drink with him or attend the show and be there for support, so they'll all shut up?"

I was about to sit down, but stopped, glaring towards my hanging clothes and the old, worn-out suitcase hiding behind the rows of materials. "Fly out to California? Los Angeles?"

I hadn't traveled often in my life, having stayed in New York City, not being able to afford much outside of a day trip within the state or maybe a state or two away. My family was never wealthy, and I never went on summer vacations or Spring Break bashes to Florida, like most teens my age did. College was so packed for me; I had no time aside from studying and sleeping. Then I got my job at LuXe, and that was that.

"Is that a problem?" He took on a tone so borderline professional that it shocked me. "I mean...sorry, this is all so stressful. The fake dating has been so well-received so far, and this tiny bump in the road might derail it all. How soon can you get to the airport?"

I didn't love airplanes; I hiccupped. "Um...I'll need time to pack, and get an Uber across town..."

"Leo's driver will take you. Don't pack much, a few outfits, your make-up. No security checks, because you'll be taking his jet."

If I'd been sitting, I'd have slipped off my chair. "His j-jet?" I blinked at the plate I'd left on my table, and put my mug down before I dropped it. "Okay, wow, you mean business."

"We all do. This is serious." A horn sounded in his background—he must have been outside, in the L.A. traffic. "Hurry and get your things together, and Leo's driver will bring you to the airport and get you situated. He'll give you instructions."

I barely had time to say thank you before Cameron hung up. "Off to L.A., then?"

***

I managed to stuff a few things into my old suitcase. One casual dress, two fancy ones Leo had bought me, jeans and shirts, comfortable and lacy lingerie. As many of my skincare and make-up products as possible, and several pairs of shoes. I then dressed in something appropriate to get on Leo's private jet.

Leo's private jet—I couldn't believe I was getting that privilege. I'd be traveling without him, which would be strange. Having access to his staff when he wasn't there was off-putting. They weren't my staff, and yet they were there, working for me, obeying my every whim. Not that I had any whims—I was too embarrassed to ask for anything more than what they offered.

Cameron texted an apology for hanging up on me; he was frustrated, stressed about the whole thing. Petra and Leo were leaning on him, hard, and he felt the pressure.

I didn't want to go. Not that I didn't want to visit Los Angeles, but it disrupted my thinking time, my inner work on figuring out what I wanted. Now, not only would I be seeing Cameron, which was ultimately great, but I'd have to spend more one-on-one, fake time with Leo, which would intensify my feelings for him. Cameron would be there, he'd see it, and then more questions would arise, and I'd be in an even worse situation.

I calmed myself down by having a glass of champagne on the flight. The flight attendant offered it to me, as I was alone, staring out the window at the clouds. The boarding process had been swift, with no bags to check or tickets to verify. His hangar was away from the main airport, far from paparazzi. Everyone welcomed me as a member of Leo's family, granting me all the comforts of a luxury airplane ride.

I reminded myself I'd signed a contract with no end, but I could terminate it if it got too hard to deal with. We were moments away from that happening; after this trip, I'd take some time away and make up my mind on what, on who I wanted.

Cameron, Leo, or neither?

But first—Los Angeles.

We landed in a secluded part of the massive, crowded LAX airport. A car waited for me upon arrival. I expected it to be empty, but as the driver loaded my things into the trunk, one of the rear doors opened and out came Cameron.

"Emma," he said, eyeing me up and down as I ran into his arms, smacking him into the car without meaning to. "Gosh, hi to you too."

I nuzzled my nose into his neck. "I missed you." His spice and fresh flowers aroma filtered into me. I didn't realize how much I'd been longing for his embrace. So busy with Leo and pleasing him and posing for pictures, I'd forgotten about the simple, sweet essence of Cameron. The ease of his presence, his calming nature. "So fucking much."

Maybe all it took was for me to see him. To reconnect with him and all he made me feel inside. Texting and calling and being apart hadn't worked well for us, but to have him here, picking me up at the airport across the country, was eye-opening. Even if I had to spend time with Leo later, it was Cameron who came to me. Cameron who cared the most. Cameron who should have been my priority.

"I missed you too." He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my lips, and squeezed me tight against him before releasing me and ushering me into the vehicle. "We don't have much time. I have to sneak you into the hotel before anyone knows you're here."

In the car, he was quiet, but held my hand. From time to time, he pointed out sights, and when we reached a sloped highway where the Hollywood sign was visible from afar, he had the driver slow down so I could capture a non-blurry picture of it. I wouldn't have time to see it up close, he told me, but he'd ask Leo to take me to places where it might be discernible.

The vibe was different here, for sure. Though L.A. had the same amount of traffic, a similar always-busy and always-on-the-move style, it was nothing like New York City. The air was polluted, but thicker, heavier. The buildings were an eclectic mix of styles, from modern to run-down to somewhere in-between. The closer we got to town, the busier it was, sidewalks clustered with people and vendors everywhere and music playing from all corners. Buses and bicycles fought for space on the road, and cosplayers danced in front of passersby.

I was star-struck as we rolled down some of the most famous L.A. boulevards, past all the luxury stores and the street signs I'd only seen in films. I snapped so many pictures in that first hour that my phone battery drained.

I'd expected a low-key, discreet hotel in some tucked away place; but it turned out Leo was staying at a high-class, high-volume hotel with exquisite views on the hills and the Hollywood sign, and multiple restaurants inside.

Cameron explained the shows Leo was doing in southern California as we entered the elevator. The doors closed, with us alone inside. As he leaned against the railing, arms and legs spread out, I ogled him. His lips, so plump and juicy as he spoke. His arms flexing, the sleeves of his t-shirt encircling his muscles, enhancing them. That hair—fuck, I wanted to touch it, grab it, pull it. And that scent, the spicy and the sweet mingling in my nostrils...

Leo's schedule of events was information he could tell me about at another time. Being stuck in a car with Cameron for an hour, sensing him near me, made me crave him. His hand needed to be stuffed into my pants, now. I was in no mood for chit-chat. I was in the mood for him.

After arching my spine and rubbing my lips together, I lunged at him, landing in his arms, wriggling my body between his legs. He jerked backwards slightly in surprise, but I pressed my lips to his, locking him in place.

"Whoa, there," he said, keeping me at arm's length while licking his lips, tasting my strawberry lip balm. "Easy now, we can't be seen together, remember?"

"But this is the elevator, and we're alone," I said, glancing sideways at the button we'd pushed—the twentieth floor. "We have a few before we reach the top, right? Can't I get things started?"

"Things?" He squinted at me, then wiggled his eyebrows. "Oh, things. Someone's a little horny from their trip, hm? Aren't you tired?" He didn't release me, but kept me far enough from him that I couldn't tell if he was experiencing the same sudden desire as me.

Tired or not, I lusted after him, and needed him as quickly as possible. After all my frustrations with Leo and not being able to sleep with him but constantly dreaming about it, I needed to fix my urges.

I always craved Cameron. We hadn't had sex in ages, and the longer I stared into his dark, glistening eyes, the more I wanted him to close them and moan my name in my ear.

"Tired, but not enough to not be focused on you." I poked my chest out, showcasing the low-neck shirt I'd worn. "I'm definitely turned on by you."

He passed his tongue over my lips, tickling me. "I'm always turned on by you." He groped my ass and winked. "Keep it in your pants for five more minutes, okay? Once we're in my room, you can rip my clothes off."

I'd been given a key for my own room, and my bags were being brought up by a bell boy while I got checked in. They could wait; I was going to Cameron's.

We hurried down the hall like two children racing towards a table of birthday presents. He couldn't get his key in the slot fast enough, and I bounced on the balls of my feet, desperate to be naked in his arms.

The door had barely closed when I slammed him against it and slid my tongue into his mouth. I was thirsty, so thirsty for him, and wouldn't wait to be wooed and kissed tenderly; I wanted him now.

As our tongues twirled, I snuck my hands into his pants to find his shaft erect and waiting. With a cry of pleasure, I unbuttoned his jeans and loosened them so I'd have room to stroke him.

He moaned into my mouth, sending shivers down my spine. His hands wandered up and down my back, but as I became busy massaging his penis, he grabbed the hem of my leggings and started tugging down, exposing my underwear. He continued to moan as he lowered it, and crept his fingers into my wetness, moaning even harder at the arousal he found there.

"Fuck," he said, separating from my mouth so we could take our tops off. "Fuck, Emma. I really missed you."

His hard dick pressed against my pool of moisture, and he rubbed it between my lower lips, further heightening my desire for him. "I missed you. I want you." My heart thrummed and my breaths were heavy as I seized his waist and started walking backwards into the room. "Now. Inside me."

He all but tore my bra off me, and fondled my breasts, swirling his tongue around my nipples as I continued my backwards trek to the bed. I fell onto the mattress and watched as he fetched a condom from the drawer, biting his lip as he ripped it open.

"The hotel always has them in there," he said, justifying himself—because why would he be on tour with Leo and bring condoms if I wasn't there? I hadn't thought twice about it; I was way too ready for him to fuck me, and would have confronted him about the condom later.

"Yes," I breathed, "fine, but will you shove that thing in me already?" I yanked him forward by reaching up to grab him by the ass, and parted my legs to let him slide him inside me. "Shit, yes, that's exactly what I needed."

"Yeah?" He thrust once, slowly, then leaned down to hover his lips over mine, teasing. He was fairly far into me, but didn't move, letting me swallow up his length and girth. "You want more? You want deeper?" He passed his tongue over my lips again. "Tell me what you want, Emma."

Hours ago, I wouldn't have known what to say, because I didn't know what I wanted. But in this moment? I wanted Cameron.

"You." I begged for him to keep thrusting. "You, I want you, I want now, fast, hard, deep. All you, Cameron."

He obliged.

♪♪♪