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Sidecar Crush

Page 61

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My mom’s house in Florida had been home of a sort. But in its own way, it had felt temporary. Like I’d been biding my time between summers when I could return here to stay with my dad.

Once I started modeling, I’d mostly lived in hotels, or cheap apartments with roommates I barely knew. I’d moved in with Kelvin, but it had always felt like his place, not ours. Certainly not mine.

I glanced over at the stack of boxes that had arrived at my dad’s place yesterday. Kelvin’s assistant had helped me out, having them shipped here. I hadn’t been sure where I would be, so she’d shipped them to Dad’s, and I’d brought them here. They were still boxed up from our last move. Kelvin hadn’t opened any of them.

This cabin wasn’t exactly mine, but I’d arranged to lease it from Scarlett long term, rather than as vacation rental. She’d been thrilled to hear I wanted to stay in Bootleg for a while. I wasn’t sure what she knew about me and Jameson, exactly, but she’d been all smiles when she’d come by yesterday with the paperwork.

I was in a strange place in my life, not knowing what the future held for me. I’d spent so many years chasing a dream. But that dream had been tarnished beyond repair. I didn’t have doubts that I was doing the right thing. I just needed to figure out what I was supposed to do next.

The prospect of starting over—of finding a new path for my life—was both exciting and scary. I had enough savings to live on for a while, but it wouldn’t last forever. And I wanted to make sure my dad would be okay. I had a lot to think about.

But I was grateful that I could afford to take a little break and just be. Live here, in a place that was far removed from all the craziness of the outside world. Where I could ignore the gossip, and people didn’t see me as a disgraced reality TV star.

Where I was Jameson Bodine’s girl.

My heart fluttered, and my stomach did a little flip, just thinking about him. It had only been a few days since he’d kissed me on the street—and in his truck, and at my door. When he’d asked me to be his girl, I’d nearly died. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

And being Jameson’s girl? Yes, please. I’d take all that and more, thank you very much.

I’d fallen a little bit in love with Jameson Bodine when I was a girl. When he’d been my best friend—the quiet boy who loved to draw and build things. Who took apart his toys and glued them back together to make something new. Who quietly observed the world around him, noticing things no one else did.

I was falling a little more in love with him now. With the man who saw beauty in the broken and discarded. Whose quiet stubbornness had built a career out of his passion. Jameson had grown up to be a man who was loyal and kind. Who loved his family and protected the people he loved.

The idea that Jameson—this man with such a soft heart and strong spirit—could possibly love me was enough to make me giddy.

To the outside world, my life probably looked like a mess. People blasted me on every social media platform I’d ever heard of—and probably all the ones I hadn’t. Stills from the show had been turned into memes—none of them flattering—and the gossip all pointed to me as the bad guy in the Roughing It cabin.

For now, I ignored it all. I took everything but Instagram off my phone, and I only used that to post pictures of things like the giant slice of chocolate cake I’d indulged in last night. Or the flannel shirt I’d turned into a dress that looked perfect with my cowboy boots.

The online gossip and comments only made me feel terrible and small. So I pretended none of it existed. I knew I’d have to deal with it all at some point. I still had contractual obligations to the studio to finish out the season of Roughing It. But until then, I’d live for a while in Bootleg bliss.

My phone rang, and I wrinkled my nose at the very unwanted intrusion from the outside world. It was Kelvin. He’d texted and called several times since I’d broken off our engagement. Mostly he harped on the fact that I didn’t have representation, or tried to talk me into doing another reality show.

“Hello?”

“Leah,” he said, “I’m so glad you answered.”


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