He stands, straightens his cuffs, and walks over to me with a palm outstretched. “But for right now, it’s important that you’re not contactable.” I stare at the open palm he’s offering me. “Are you asking for my hand? Because we really don’t know each other that well.” He cracks a momentary smile. “Your phone, Emma.” I back away from him in horror. “No.” “Do you really wanna deal with Ben right now? Or your parents? Or more reporters?” “Fuck me,” I mutter. “You really know how to make a compelling case, don’t you?” Reluctantly, I deposit my phone in his hand.
