Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(65)

“How would you have done it on your own? Sounds like you were barely able to breathe on your own, without him watching you. That you managed to find someone in a position to help you is a miracle. That you took that help is another one. I’m grateful,” he repeated.

The words settled on her soul like a balm. It was the mushiest thing anyone had ever said to her, and her heart galloped. “Yes. I guess I am too.”

He rubbed her back for a while in silence. “Katrina?”

“Yes?” She yawned.

“My knee is killing me and my butt is cold. Can we go back to bed?”

She gave a soggy laugh. So much for mushy romance. “Yes. Let’s go back to bed.”





Chapter Twenty


KATRINA LEARNED QUICKLY over the course of the next morning and afternoon that reciprocated affection did not turn you into a princess with a perfect singing voice and talking woodland creatures.

It did, however, turn you into a space cadet.

She’d been delayed taking Doodle out for her potty break this morning and had to clean up the consequences, all because she had dawdled in the shower, soaping up her aching body and watching Jas brush his teeth through the steamed-up glass of her shower. She’d burned their quiche at breakfast because Jas had had the nerve to wear a pair of snug cotton joggers with a white T-shirt French-tucked into the front waistband. She’d almost knocked her cup of coffee over onto her laptop because Jas had had the further nerve to bend over in the aforementioned sweatpants.

He was so lean, but tightly put together. Like a very sleek sports car. A manual one.

Katrina rested her chin in her hand and stared out the window. Jas had left to go do something outside a few hours ago, and she’d been grateful. Out of sight, out of mind, and she could give her poor brain a reprieve from thinking about his butt and cotton and his butt in cotton, but alas, her focus seemed to be shot even when he wasn’t sashaying in front of her.

“Katrina?”

Katrina’s gaze cut guiltily away from the window and back to the open laptop on the breakfast table. “Yes?” she asked, and pushed her hair behind her ear. She pointedly shifted her chair so she wouldn’t be able to see out the window.

Rhiannon peered at her. She and Lakshmi were sitting side by side on a couch, a tiny bit of their luxurious hotel room in India visible. On the split screen was Jia, who was, thankfully, painting her nails and hadn’t seemed to notice Katrina’s distraction. “I said, I’m glad you’re ready to go on the offensive,” Rhiannon repeated.

Katrina sobered. The single cloud hovering over her sex-induced happiness was the bane of her existence. Well, one of them.

Up until now, she’d avoided looking at Becca, Alan, or Ross’s Instagram accounts, but Ross had done a live video for his “fans” last night. She and Jas had obviously been otherwise occupied, but once she’d come out of her haze enough to check her phone this morning, she’d found texts from Rhiannon and Jia.

Katrina had scrolled through Ross’s Instagram before watching the video and had been disturbed by his recent posts with their vague as hell captions. A shirtless shot of him contemplating the ocean: Sunsets are better with your sweetheart. #CafeBae #CuteCafeGirl #nofiltersrequired #theLordismyfilter. A photo of him, again shirtless, holding his mom’s dog: Sandy’s kisses can’t compare to hers. #CafeBae #CuteCafeGirl #PuppyLove #CantWaitToSeeHer #weddingbells.

Barf.

None of that had compared to the video, though. She’d watched it with Jas next to her, but even his presence hadn’t prevented the cold ball forming in the pit of her stomach.

Over the course of twenty minutes, Ross fielded questions from people about his new nutrition company, his past as an athlete, and his exercise regimen. Then the questions about her had started. Where was she, why wasn’t she coming forward, were they really seeing each other, what was her real name?

Ross had spouted some cutesy non-answers, but for the last one, the bastard had looked straight into her camera and winked. I’m sure one of you super-sleuths can find out who CuteCafeGirl is. No one’s truly impossible to find.

A shiver ran down Katrina’s back. The man had practically invited the internet to dox her.

Unacceptable. It was time to do what she’d decided on yesterday with such passionate fervor. Take up space. Use her resources, damn it.

She’d called her lawyer, who had been aghast and sympathetic. There were some legal options, but they’d have to be approached in a way that didn’t end up calling more attention to the story and her. Her lawyer wanted to consult with some of her colleagues who had experience with cases like Katrina’s. In the meantime, they would compose takedown notices, though Katrina was aware that was kind of like trying to stuff a hundred thousand cats back into a sack.

After that conversation, she’d called this meeting of their brain trust.

Lakshmi rubbed her hands together. Rhiannon’s assistant was stylish as usual, in a black-and-gold front-slit kurta, her hair slicked back, her blood-red lips a slash of crimson suited to her dramatic personality. “By the time I’m done with these people, they won’t think it’s so great to go viral.”

That sounded vaguely ominous to Katrina. “You’re not putting out a hit on them or anything, are you?”

“Of course not. I’m going to make them see the error of their ways.”