Entangled by Ginger Voight

my brother eat his heart out for letting her go.”
    I glanced at Alex, who looked back down at his plate to spear a piece of steak with his fork.
    “Honey, by the time I’m done with you, every straight man in the joint will stand in line just to be rejected by you.”
    I grinned. “Now that would take some magic,” I said.
    “You doubt the master?” Jorge challenged. “You come to the studio next week. I’m going to show you a whole new world.”
    By the end of the evening, I felt like I had known Dom, Jorge, Shannon and Jake for a lifetime. We stayed up late talking or playing games, and I whipped all boys soundly at pool. As much as I thought this party would be uncomfortable and innately inappropriate, I felt like I was in a group of kindred spirits. I didn’t feel weird, or broken, or strange. We all had so much in common it was like stumbling upon long lost family. I didn’t think twice when I agreed to go to the studio that following Friday, so that Jorge could wave his magic wand and transform me into the belle of the ball in time for Drew’s highly publicized fundraiser.
    After they left, I took a bottle of beer onto the terrace where Alex worked cleaning the grill. He gave me that trademarked lopsided grin. “Hopefully that wasn’t too painful for you,” he teased as he pulled off his gloves.
    “It was great. They were great. I can see why you would be friends with them.”
    “Jake helped fill the hole left when Drew decided to disengage. I don’t know how I would have made it through summers here without him. He’s a good guy.”
    I nodded. “I can tell. I’m glad his relationship with Shannon is everything it appeared to be on TV. Most times you can’t trust what you see when it’s edited and packaged for the masses.”
    He laughed. “Truth, sister. That’s pretty much why I’ve thumbed my nose at the PR machine most of my life.” He tipped the bottle for a long, cold, bubbly sip. “You know, if you don’t want to go through any kind of makeover for the party, you don’t have to.”
    It was my turn to chuckle. “I have no illusions, Alex. No matter how much makeup he slaps on, I’m still the same girl who grew up on a farm and grades papers for a living. I’ll always be second best to the likes of Olivia Guest.”
    Alex set the beer on the grill’s shelf, before he walked over to where I stood. Our bodies didn’t touch, but I still felt him as he stood over me. His eyes darkened as he stared down into my face. “That depends on who you ask,” he said softly.
    He lifted his hand and traced the curve of my chin. My tummy tightened from the contact, and the deep look in his eyes. “Alex,” I said softly.
    His mouth broke apart in another cockeyed grin. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Guess Jorge left a little pixy dust behind.” He ran a finger down the slope of my nose. “There. It’s gone now,” he teased before he turned back to finish the grill.
    I took a deep breath and escaped inside.
    The next day was business as usual. Jonathan arrived by nine o’clock in the morning, and I could tell he was watching both Alex and me for any clue that we were about to disappoint him once again. Max inadvertently let it slip about our dinner party the night before while Jonathan and I took a lunch break from our classwork. Max bounded over his cousin to tell him all about our leftover Mississippi Mud cake. “Em…eye… crooked letter, crooked letter, eye… humpback, humpback eye!” Max grinned with a mouthful of decadent chocolate and marshmallow crème.
    “ You forgot a couple of letters there,” I teased with a sideways glance.
    He proceeded to spill the beans of our friendly get-together, and Jonathan listened silently as Max chattered on about all the fun that we had. He explained how we had big plans that Friday to head to the Fierce set, to meet the crew and allow me to hang out with all my new friends.
    I couldn’t figure out if Jonathan felt left out, or if he suspected