Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

“She still has feelings for him, doesn’t she?”

Celeste shrugged. “I honestly think it’s more a case of she doesn’t want the guy, but she doesn’t want anyone else to have him either. Know what I mean?”

“Yep.” I knew exactly what she meant. I figured that was pretty standard when it came to breakups, not that I was an expert or anything.

“I also think it’s worse because she doesn’t have a boyfriend. If she had someone in her life, she might not care so much about what Tatum was doing.” She tilted her head. “Then again, you’re the first real threat she’s had. It’s not like Tatum has even talked to a girl since Brina dumped him.”

We stopped talking as Troy walked up to us. “Hi, Celeste. Hi, Paige.”

We both said hi back, then suffered through an awkward silence as Troy shuffled his weight between his feet and avoided our eyes. Finally he looked up at me and mumbled, “Uh, Paige. Would you like to dance?”

I looked between Tatum, who was focused solely on my interaction with Troy, and Celeste, who was practically shoving me onto the dance floor, before I said, “Sure.”

The music was slow and Troy pulled me close. I stepped even closer, our bodies moving in unison to the beat. It was immature of me to attempt to make Tatum jealous, but I needed to force some sort of reaction out of him. If Celeste was even remotely right about him, I’d waited about as long as I wanted to for him to make a move.

Closing my eyes, I pretended Troy was Tatum, only he wasn’t nearly as tall or as well-built, but it was the only way I could stomach being this close to someone who wasn’t Tatum. My daydream was interrupted by Troy pulling away from me and my body suddenly going cold. My eyes flew open to see Tatum’s blue ones glaring at me, his face twisted in anger. Or maybe it was disgust.

“Come here,” Tatum bit out. “I want to talk to you.” He grasped my upper arm and I jerked it out of his grip.

“Don’t manhandle me!” I shouted.

He leaned in close to my face, his voice barely above a whisper, but his tone unhappy. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like what?” I snapped back, my tone mimicking his.

“Don’t dance with my friends like that,” he practically spat at me.

“Like what?” I placed a nonchalant expression on my face, wanting to push his buttons.

Tatum pulled off his baseball cap and ran his hand irritably through his hair. “I don’t want you dancing that close to anyone but me.”

“Then why don’t you ask me to dance instead of brooding all night?”

“Is that what you want, Paige? You want to dance with me?”

I huffed out an annoyed sigh. “You can’t possibly be this stupid.”

“Tell me what you want!” he yelled, all his composure completely blown.

I glanced around to see people watching us, then lowered my voice as I admitted, “You already know what I want.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t you?”

“Stop playing games.”

“I’m not playing games. You know what I want. You’re the one who keeps fighting it,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes as my frustration built.

“Say it. I need to hear you say it,” he said, his voice breaking as if his very life were at stake.

“You two are creating a scene. Mayb

e you should leave.”

Brina’s nasal voice cut through the tension that surrounded us, but we ignored her as our gazes remained locked. Tatum and I continued to stare at each other, chests heaving with emotion.

“Go away, Brina. This doesn’t concern you,” Tatum ordered tersely.