Not If I Date You First

Chapter 31

LIAM

Stars are still dancing in my vision as the SUV pulls up outside the New York Public Library.

You'd think your eyes would eventually get used to all the flashbulbs, but they never do. The barrage of photographers waiting in front of Ada's building was overwhelming even for me. I can only imagine what it was like for her.

The feel of her body pressed against mine is the only thing keeping the waves of panic at bay that try to drown me whenever I'm surrounded by the press. I wish I could stay in this car with her a while longer and not just because of the photogs waiting to pounce on us as soon as we step foot on that red carpet.

I trail my fingers across the soft skin of her shoulder blades. Touching her has become almost a habit in the past weeks, and now that we're dating for real, I can't seem to stop.

Outside the car, people chant my name. I lean forward to look out the windshield. Standing behind the rows of photographers is a group of girls holding signs that say 'Kiss Me Liam' and 'Liam Anders for Sexiest Man Alive.'

"Oh, yeah. That's really what that ego of yours needed." Ada's voice is teasing.

I hadn't thought about whether or not she'd be the type of girl who'd get jealous of the fans constantly throwing themselves at me. But it's clear from the amusement curling her lips that she's not at all bothered by it. Briggs swings the door open, and a shockwave of sound envelopes us.

"You better give the people what they want, Superstar." Ada winks at me, and I swear to God, my heart flips inside my damn chest. I lean in, pressing a kiss to her lips right there in front of the over-zealous photogs whose lenses are already peering in at us.

As I turn to climb out of the SUV, Briggs catches my eye, shooting me a knowing grin. I shake my head at him as my feet make contact with the red carpet. It's absurdly plush for something people are going to walk all over. I reach back to help Ada out of the car.

If I learned anything dating Mia, it's that moving in gowns like the one Ada's wearing tonight is no easy feat. But goddamn is she stunning in it. I can only imagine how incredible she'd look out of it.

Briggs keeps close to me as the rest of my security detail closes around us, trying to block out the cameras while we get our bearings.

My handler pounces on us the second Ada's out of the vehicle. "Do you know how to do this?" she asks Ada, snapping her fingers and pointing at an assistant to straighten out Ada's skirt for her.

"Not the slightest clue," Ada says, and I chuckle. Being at one of these events with someone who's so un-Hollywood is refreshing.

The assistant flutters around her, fluffing her dress as my handler runs through a series of instructions I'm having a hard time following, and I've done this more times than I can count. Ada's eyes widen, and the color drains from her face.

"Don't blink at all if possible and be sure to keep smiling the entire time. That's vital." The handler takes a step back, looking Ada up and down as though assessing a prize horse. "Let's see it."

"See what?" Ada's forehead furrows.

"Your smile. Let's see it."

"Ummm...okay?" Ada tries to force a smile, but it's the same teeth-bared grimace from the night we walked out in front of the paparazzi together for the first time. I press my fist to my mouth.

"Oh, dear God," the handler says, looking horrified, and I can't hold it in anymore. I burst out laughing. My shoulders shake with the effort of trying to get myself under control.

Ada scowls at me in a way that's both very familiar and completely adorable. "We can't all be world-famous actors," she snaps.

"Well, you can't."

She glares at me as I take her hand, putting myself between her and the handler. "Relax, Ace. Just be yourself." I press the back of her hand to my lips. Her shoulders, which had been creeping steadily up toward her ears, loosen.

"You know, you can be kind of charming when you want to be," she says.

"Oh, I've got moves, Ada Datchery. You haven't seen anything yet."

She laughs, winding her arm around my waist. "You don't have any moves."

I lead her out onto the carpet that stretches up the stairs toward the massive columns that frame the library's entrance. A white banner runs along one side, displaying the logo of the event's sponsors. I notice The Huntley Agency's trademark largest among them and remember that's the name of the company Ada works for.

On the other side, a metal gate serves as a barrier, separating us from the clamoring photographers. Their cameras blaze and I plaster on a grin that may not feel natural, but I know after years of practice, it looks it.

Ada's hand trembles where it rests against my back, and my eyes flick over to her. Outwardly, she's maintaining her cool. A close-lipped smile stretches across her face, and I have to admit, she's almost pulling it off. I squeeze her waist, and she leans into me, but I feel her body stiffen as she stares over at the wall of photographers. Following her gaze, I realize why.

A girl with long red hair stands next to the barricade. Her dress plunges so low in the back, I'm sure her stylist used every piece of double-sided tape in Manhattan to keep her from turning into the latest wardrobe malfunction. It's Mia.

She's talking to a photographer with a bushy blond ponytail and wide-set eyes who looks familiar, but I can't quite place where I know her from. They're watching me and Ada with smiles I'd describe as predatory if this were The Discovery Channel instead of a red-carpet event.

Mia waggles her fingers at me, and fear claws at my chest. If there's anyone other than my dad who I don't want talking to the press about me, it's Mia. She knows everything I've been trying so hard to keep out of the media. But she wouldn't say anything. Mia might be a lot of things, but she's not cruel.

I give my shoulders a shake. I'm just being paranoid. I'm sure they aren't even talking about me.