“Yeah but…” Willow lowered his voice to a whisper. “Right now, it’s only real for me. I need Eden to get used to having me around.”

“Like a stray cat?”

“I prefer dog. But exactly.”

Psycho gave him a look. “Have you talked to your dad about this?”

“Patty, I’m thirty-three, I don’t need to talk to my dad about anything except where I’ll be for Christmas. Now get out of here.”

Psycho shot him a mistrustful look but left him to re-examine the Instagram photo. He stared at it for a while, considering his next move. Then he went to the comments and typed.

Watch your hands, Franky.

Instantly, replies rolled in.

Possessive!

Stop being a creep, Francis.

She TAKEN!!!

He went to Eden’s profile. Her most recent photo was a selfie of her in a DJ booth, a lollypop hanging out of her mouth. It had probably been thrown up by Cheryl to promote her show tomorrow night. Regardless, he posted a comment.

So fucking proud of you baby.

Feeling like he’d pulled the pins out of a couple of grenades, he put his phone on airplane mode and managed not to look at it until the bus pulled into the clubrooms. As he was walking to his car, he hit the little plane icon and watched his phone connect to the internet.

Opening Instagram, he saw his comment on Francis’ post had five thousand likes. The original post had four thousand seven hundred. He’d ratioed him. Grinning, Willow checked his emails and saw two from journalists asking for quotes about the ‘feud.’ He and Eden were going to be in the Daily Mail again. As he unlocked his car, he got a text from Eden. A single question mark. His stomach full of knots, he replied.

Hey pretty girl. How was hanging out with Franky?

A smirking emoji.

I thought you were a nice boy.

So, she liked him being jealous. Or at least she didn’t seem to hate it. He could work with that.

I’m nice when it suits me. Also, I’m calling in my fantasy. I’ll pay whatever it takes to fuck your pretty mouth tonight.

A second later his phone buzzed.

Hotel?

Your place. You don’t want anyone to see us together, Jenna.

He’d never been to Eden’s apartment before, didn’t know if it was even something she’d consider, but he wanted some proof she was into this. That he mattered to her. Her reply came through.

Guess you’d better come over, pervert. Don’t forget the cash.

He smiled grimly.

I won’t.

11