Lover (Court University 4)

“I’m surprised you didn’t just take Ramses’s tickets and go with your new friend.” She nudged me. “I’m sure Ramses would have sold them to you or even just given them to you, knowing him.”

I was sure he would have, my nod firm. Eventually, we all made it outside and in front of the busy theater.

Evie had hooked my arm, and it was all I could do to fight her on after-show drinks. She and James planned to go to a place downtown, and she pushed both me and Ramses to join them.

“I would, Ma, but Brielle has to get back,” he urged, kissing her cheek when she placed it out. “Long drive. You understand. And I have to be at the office first thing.”

“You work too much, darling.” She touched his cheek. “But I understand.” She waved a hand at me. “Bri, I’ll text you.”

I nodded, giving her a hug before letting her go. In a stiff stance, Ramses offered to head with them to the valet. He said I could wait where I was so I wouldn’t be in the rush of the traffic on the curb.

At this point, I just wanted to bury my face in my hands, and if I smoked, I would have done so then.

How had I fucked this up so bad?

Ramses appeared truly sick when he left me standing there, completely over all this, and I didn’t blame him.

After all, he lied for me.

He’d always wanted to tell the truth, and I placed him in this predicament. Hugging my arms, I wandered outside the theater in thought. A cluster of photographers were around, snapping shots of the theater and the high class clientele. I’d heard a few celebrities had attended the show tonight.

I started to pass them when I was grabbed by one.

“Hey. That’s Brielle Norrington!”

The flashes came first, bodies second as the majority of those photographers descended on me like locusts.

I was surrounded in a frenzy, people literally yelling at me in a fashion so familiar to my time in New York and Jersey, it churned my gut.

Flash.

“Brielle, what are you doing here?”

Another flash.

“Does Alec know? You’re a long way from Jersey, New York?”

Flash. Flash. Flash.

“What do you have to say about the more recent speculations?”

I had no idea what that last pap meant, too busy framing my eyes and fighting the crowds. I elbowed for an out, trying to find Ramses. I started to call for him before a pap grabbed my arm, jerking me back so hard I about fell on my ass. Actually, if it hadn’t been for all the paparazzi behind me, I would have fallen. They blocked the descent, and the pap whipped me around for a picture.

“Eh. Get your fucking hands off her!”

Ramses parted the crowd, a firm tower over a sea of heads. He got my arm too, but when that other pap tugged, he placed me behind him and shoved the guy. He bared teeth. “Back off.”

The guy just wanted a picture. They always did, and where Alec and I had learned how to combat that over the years, Ramses hadn’t. He engaged, and once he had, they did right back.

The pap’s shove came from behind his camera, which Ramses grabbed and shot toward the ground. It exploded and the shutters around us followed, more flashes.

My heart sunk. “Ramses!”

The pap launched at him, roaring but Ramses grappled the guy’s shoulders and slammed him into the pavement.

My breath stole.

Ramses loomed over the guy, wailing on him to keep him down. His fist knocked into him again and again, and my heart shot into my throat, the sweat cold and deadly on my brow. Shaking, I stumbled back which only landed me back into the sea of paparazzi.