Page 52 of Just for the Cameras
“Nope.”
I sigh and take a bite from my pineapple chunk.
What’s the use?
“Okay, so does everything look good there?” I ask Everly, showing her the caption I made for my first post on Flock and Tackle.
For the past hour, Everly has given me a crash course on social media. I took notes like a lunatic, writing down all the things so I can make sure this social account does well. She assured me that once I start posting more pictures of Graydon, it will pick up because people will love seeing him. I hope she’s right, because if this idea works, maybe he’ll lighten up and trust that I’m not in his life to make it unbearable.
“I think it looks great.” She stares at the picture a touch longer. “God, he’s so hot.”
“Wouldn’t know,” I say, even though that’s a blatant lie. He’s hot. Incredibly hot. “So I should post?”
“Yes, post.”
I hit the post button and then hold my breath, as if I’ll get instant feedback.
“Okay, now that you made your first post, let’s go back to the whole ‘you wouldn’t know he’s hot’ thing.”
“Must we? I really don’t want to think about him in any capacity at the moment.”
I stretch out across my couch, thankful for the long Epsom salt bath I took after work because it helped ease some of the pain that’s already been building up. I’m going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow, which is fantastic, because he’s coming to the zoo, so he can see the results of the torture he made me endure.
There’s a knock on the door, and I turn to look at Everly, who says, “It’s Hardy.” She hops up from the couch and lets him into the apartment. I hear him whisper something to her before the telltale sound of a kiss rings through the apartment.
Is it weird to hear my ex-boyfriend kissing someone else?
No, actually.
I’m really happy for him.
We weren’t meant to be together. He and Everly, though? That’s a completely different story.
They walk into the room, holding hands, and Hardy offers me that boyish grin of his. “Hey, Maple. How are you?”
“Great. I would stand and give you a hug, but my body is hanging together by a thread.”
He chuckles. “I heard. Graydon St. John’s giving you trouble in all aspects of your life?”
“What do you mean, ‘all aspects’?” I look over at Everly, who looks guilty.
“Work and love,” Hardy says nonchalantly as he takes a seat on my couch and pulls Everly onto his lap.
“Uh…not love. There is no love.”
“We were just talking about that,” Everly says. “She doesn’t want to mention him at all.”
“Sounds like something someone who is in love would say,” Hardy taunts jokingly.
“There is absolutely not one shred of any sort of affection for that man in my body. None. He’s rude and inconsiderate and mean and selfish, and I can’t wait for the moment that I can take the money he helped me raise and run without looking back.”
“So things are going well, then,” Hardy jokes.
“He stretched her,” Everly says.
Hardy’s eyes light up. “In what way?”
Deadpan, I answer, “In a ‘her legs are seizing, I better stretch them out before I have to take her to the hospital’ kind of way.”
