Eden had pouted. “Or we could find somewhere quiet and you could tell me more about your photo fantasy?”

“Nope.”

The next two weeks had flown by. He sent Eden a few presents—Gucci sunglasses, a dozen of pink roses, a bottle of Tom Ford perfume that made his eyes roll back whenever he smelled it on her skin. She thanked him in person, but never posted any of it to social media. When he asked why, her response was adorable. “I don’t want people to think I’m flexing.”

“Pretty girl, you should be flexing. Your followers’ll love it.”

“Won’t they just think I’m a brat?”

He laughed. “Next time, film yourself opening what I’ve sent you. If it doesn’t get more views than anything else you’ve posted, I’ll never hassle you about vegetables again.”

“Deal.”

But he was right. When Eden filmed herself in bed unwrapping the dark green YSL purse he’d sent her, her followers had jumped from forty thousand to sixty.

“This is bizarre,” she’d texted. “The video has two million views and my Spotify listens have gone up forty percent!”

That night he’d gone to one of her gigs. Eden had reached into the crowd, grabbed his shirt collar, and kissed him in front of everyone. “You’re a fucking genius, Willow.”

He wished she’d said she missed him, but he’d take it. He’d spent the rest of the night by her side, bringing her soda water between cocktails and steering her away when fans got too overwhelmed or touchy. Afterward, he took her out for tacos.

“Everyone’s so much nicer to me with you there,” she said. “You’re like the perfect bouncer.”

Again, not the compliment he wanted, but he liked the idea of being a big loyal dog, protecting his girl. And something about the image, along with all the beer he’d drunk, finally unlocked his fantasy.

“I wanna be pathetic over you,” he told her. “I wanna chase after you and get turned down until I give you enough money that you say yes and let me fuck you.”

“Oh.” Eden had touched the YSL bag dangling from her shoulder. “Is that why you gave me…?”

“No. Well, maybe. But that’s a gift. When it comes to this…”

She rested her hand over his. “Go on.”

“I don’t want to buy you gifts, I want to bribe you to fuck me. Like, beg you, basically.”

She blinked. “Like I’m an OnlyFans girl or something?”

Just hearing her suggest it sent a volt of electricity to his cock. “Exactly like that.”

“Interesting.” She’d traced a finger around the rim of her margarita. “So, you wanna, like, simp for me?”

The word made Willow’s face go hot. “Yeah, basically. Act pathetic, I guess.”

“But you’re so not pathetic.”