I groaned, rolling over on the bed and looking at the clock. It couldn't be later than seven. It wasn't even hinting at being light out yet. I really hoped there was a good reason for James to be yelling at me to wake.
“What?” I yelled back. I rubbed my eyes, the edges of my dreams already wearing away. “Why are you waking me up?”
He tossed a newspaper at my feet. It looked like the entertainment section. I didn't move. I just sat there looking at the blurry words and wondering if I was carrying a crazy-man's child. It had better be the announcement of World War Three in that paper. Anything less and I would hit him with it before going back to bed.
“Did you tell anyone about us?” James asked. He stood at the foot of the bed, already dressed and looking mad as hell.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn't say a word to anyone.”
“Not even Tessa?” he pressed.
“No, not even Tessa.” I yawned and reached for the paper. “Not Anne, not Nicole, not Dad, not the clerk I bought the test from. I didn't say a word to anyone.”
“Well, someone figured it out,” James growled.
I looked down at the paper, squinting to make out the words in the dark. I had to read the headline four times and even then I hoped it was a trick.
BILLIONAIRE JAMES COLEMAN SLEEPING WITH SISTER
Right below the headline was a picture of the two of us at the club with Nicole. Except Nicole wasn't in the picture.
“Nicole's going to be pissed they used this picture and not the one with her in it,” I murmured, trying to wrap my head around what I was reading. How had anyone figured this out?
“That's what your reaction is?” James sounded ready to explode. “There's a headline saying I'm fucking my sister and you're worried about your roommate not being in the picture?”
“I just woke up, James,” I replied, staring at the picture and feeling my world crumble around me. “I really just want to go back to sleep and find out this was a dream.”
“It's not!” he yelled, obviously angry. He slammed the flat of his hand against the wall, making me jump. There was so much defeat resting on his shoulders that he looked small for the first time in his life. My heart went to my throat as I scrambled from the bed to wrap my arms around him.
“It'll be okay,” I lied, pulling him into me. “Nobody reads this paper anyway.”
“Right,” James chuckled, but there was no mirth to it. “No one reads the New York Times.”
I blanched a little and held him tighter. “What do we do? You tell me what we need to do, and I'll do it.”
James relaxed his grip on me, looking down with those green eyes that seemed to absorb everything around him. “I appreciate that.”
I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn't move. This was too awful to smile about. “If you want, I'll make a claim that it's all lies. That I think you're gross and smelly.”
“You didn't read the article, did you?”
“It says you aren't gross and smelly?”
“They have pictures. Compromising pictures.” His whole body stilled.
“How would they get those?” I asked. “Even if they figured us out, how did they get pictures?”
James sighed. “I don't know. The paper didn't run the photos, saying they were too risque for print. I have no idea what they are.”
“Maybe there are no pictures?” I didn't think we would
get that lucky, but I said it anyway. “What are we going to do?”
“Wouldn't matter now. The damage is done. It's out in the world now. Even if there aren't any pictures- the idea is in the public eye. It will never go away.” He trembled slightly and it scared me.
“What do we do then?” I asked, pressing into him.
James sighed. “Yesterday, I had a plan. I was halfway to hiring someone to pretend to be your boyfriend. To create some distance between us and make it believable that you got knocked up by someone other than me.”