Once we're at the ground level of the hotel, Beau grabs my hand roughly in his own. His fingers are hard and calloused - from playing the guitar all of the time, probably. I eye him curiously, brows raised at him in surprise. He peers down at me, expression tortured. "Don't even start," He growls under his breath. I bite my bottom lip, deciding to push him a little more. I snake my hand up his arm, clinging to him tightly as we make our way onto the busy street, smirking at the way he stiffens under my touch.

Once outside, though, I'm the one who is uncomfortable. A sleek, black limo is parked in front of the shabby hotel, looking painfully out of place on the quaint main street. "Your chariot awaits," Beau smirks, green eyes cold and discomforting.

"Beau, I'm serious. Where are we going?" I pull my arms over my chest, feeling exposed in the last remaining daylight. The sun catches on the metallic material of my dress like a beacon, calling attention to myself with every movement.

"I told you already. Dinner," Beau grumbles, phone in hand, as he opens the door and slides across the leather seat. Passerby's on the sidewalk eye me cautiously, young girls whisper to each other, a few men ogle my usually covered legs.

"Just forget it," I snap, returning to the main lobby to demand someone let me into Beau's suite to grab my clothes. My real clothes - not these dress up ones I feel so stupid wearing.

"Hey, damnit!" Beau's voice follows me through the lobby, the heavy stomp of his angry footsteps echoing off the walls. He grabs my hand, pulling me to a stop. "We had a deal." His strong jaw is clenched angrily, eyes burning as he stares down at me.

"This is me going back on our deal," I explain gruffly, yanking at my neckline up once more.

"Stop. That." Beau snaps, taking my hand in his own and removing it from the thin fabric. "You look fine. But I need you to get in the limo." I bite my lip stubbornly. I really need that money - crap. "Please." Beau forces the word from his lips, looking physically pained in the process.

"Just please tell me what we're doing." I sigh, feeling defeated. Beau's eyes soften the tiniest bit, some of his cold attitude dissipating slightly.

"I have a problem with my image." His lips are pressed into a tight line as I burst out laughing.

"You? I can't imagine why, you're just so... charming," I giggle again when his scowl deepens.

Beau ignores me, continuing his explanation as matter-of-factly as he can. "My team just wants me to get some better publicity out there right now."

I almost retort with some snarky comment, but for a second, his "I don't care about anything" facade cracks and I see desperation in his eyes. "Fine," I agree, once more grabbing his hand and leaving the hotel.

***

"I don't really drink, honestly." I protest as Beau tries to pour me another glass of wine. To be honest, the first glass was enough to make me feel warm inside following the champagne limo ride, and I know he is no stranger to alcohol himself. The last thing I would want is to make a fool of myself and fuel his dislike for me even more.

Beau ignores me, filling the tall glass with deep red wine. The wine is delicious, in fact. Everything - the oysters we had to start, the steak and roasted potatoes Beau suggested, and the rich chocolate torte I just finished for desert - was delectable, the best food I've ever tasted. The limo ride here was an experience - we drove out to the nearest city, where Beau had reservations. We drank champagne form tall flutes and he let me play my own music behind the divider, while he sat on his phone, as usual. I lounged across the red leather seats, watching as city lights became more and more concentrated. I can't believe that for me, this was luxury and for Beau, it was just another car ride.

Beau checks the expensive watch on his wrist restlessly. "Late for another date?" I joke, leaning forward over the small table. The restaurant is fancier than any place I've ever gone - crystal chandeliers light up the high ceilinged room, small tables with thick white table clothes fill the space, leather chairs seat probably a hundred guests, all dressed even more elegantly than us two. Remembering my low neckline, I straighten my back a bit, feeling heat in my cheeks at the thought of Beau eyeing my chest.

"You're annoying, has anyone ever told you that?" He smirks back, tattooed fingers running through his hair.

I nod, eyes wide, "So if you're trying to hurt me, you'll have to try harder."

Beau rolls his eyes dismissively. "Are you ready to go?"

"Am I boring you, Beau Lewis?" The conversation, surprisingly, had not been that bad once we got to the restaurant. Beau had ordered the wine and oysters, and taught me how to properly eat one when I told him I didn't know how. He then made some snarky comment about certain foods being aphrodisiacs, which I promptly dismissed, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. He asked about town, and what things there were to do besides get coffee at half-decent coffee shops, and stay in crummy hotels.

"Just Beau." His tone is harsher than it's been all dinner, and I'm shocked back into reality. Whatever his reason is for wanting me here, it's not for me or my company.

"Right, Beau." I glare at him, placing my napkin on the table. "Shall we?"

I stomp to the front of the restaurant, ignoring Beau's calls behind me. As soon as I'm out of the door, I'm assaulted by bright lights and shouting, indistinguishable faces pushing cameras at me. "What -" I stop dead in my tracks, raising my hands to cover my face.

"Where's Beau?" A young woman snaps a photo of me, the flash blinding me as I wonder the same thing. I curse myself for rushing out ahead of him.

"Right here," Beau's voice is deep above the raised voices of the crowd as his arm snakes around my waist, hand pressed firmly on my hip. I still instantly, noticing how the tips of his fingers are just a bit too low for my liking. "Smile," Beau whispers into my hair.

I stare at him, bewildered. What the hell is going on?

"Who is she,"

"Is this your girlfriend?"

"Over here!"

I feel my heart beating quicker as the voices blend together and the flashing becomes more frenzied as Beau pulls me closer to his body.

"How long have you been a fan of the band?" A male voice is distinct from the rest. I feel Beau stiffen beside me, obviously hearing the words, too.

"Excuse me?" I don't let Beau cut in before I can respond.

"The contest! How long have you been a Beau Lewis fan girl," The man pushes in a condescending tone, snapping more and more photos. A fan girl? What contest? I do my best to keep my expression neutral even as disgust threatens to crush my resolve.

"Excuse me," I say again, more firmly and louder than before. I raise my hand to the side of my face, covering as best I can as I push my way through the throng of people.

"Thanks," I hear Beau say goodbye and follow after me, but I don't slow down, forcing myself to take longer and longer strides. I wrap my arms around my body, feeling more exposed than I ever have.

"Where the hell is the limo?" I finally shout, turning to Beau after a few minutes of walking.

Beau doesn't meet my eyes. "What's your problem?" His fingers tap at the screen rapidly.

"My problem?" I snort. "My problem? I just had people shoving cameras in my face calling me, a... a fan girl -" I stammer in frustration, pacing back and forth. "Oh...Oh." Angry calm settles over me as I finally understand. "Your image," I nod my head, making my way to the side of the road. "This is a publicity thing, getting a crazy fan to go out with you - like a charity contest or something," I ramble on and on, mostly to myself. I stick my thumb in the air, not caring how dangerous it is to hitch hike. As long as I get away from Beau and this mess. A Beau Lewis fan girl, I scoff. Screw that.

"Are you crazy?" Beau snaps, pushing my hand down. "This isn't some little road in the middle of your candy-land town, you could be killed." I put my hands on my hips stubbornly. He's probably right. "I don't get what you're flipping out about," Beau grumbles, pushing long dark bangs from his eyes. "You're getting paid."

"You didn't tell me what this was, Beau. I didn't know I was signing up to have my pictures posted God knows where, as some crazy fan," I throw my hands up in exasperation. "I have a life, you know! One that doesn't involve all of this!" I wrap my hair up in a messy bun, feeling completely disoriented.

His green eyes are on mine and for a second, I think I see that softness in them again. Just as instantly, though, it's gone, replaced by cold dismissiveness. "You'll be the star of the show back home," His voice is so smug I want to scream.

"Say what you want about it, but it's my life. You chose this," I shake my head angrily. "I didn't." Beau stares at me blankly, before finally pulling out his phone. "Really?" I roll my eyes - he is unbelievable.

"Yeah, we're good. Just grab us around the corner," He speaks into the phone. The limo pulls up almost immediately and I scoff once more in disbelief. "Just get in and we'll take you back to your little town," Beau's eyes are daring me to argue with him some more, but I'm too exhausted to keep it up any longer and I really, really want to go home. I climb in silently, hoping he'll fall asleep or something on the way back.

After a few minutes of silence, Beau tells me to expect a check in the mail soon. I nod curtly, glaring out my window. The city lights that had seemed so exciting seem tacky now. "What're you going to do with it?" I ignore him, letting out a deep sigh. How long did it take to get to the restaurant? "C'mon. This is the last time you'll ever have to see me, right? Indulge me." His voice is tired, bored even.

"I'll pay my rent with it - is that exciting enough for you?" I say harshly.

His lips form a small pout as he considers my answer. "Nope. But you're right. It's your life." At that, I almost think he'll drop the conversation entirely. I hope he does. Running a hand through his messy hair, he continues "What if money wasn't an issue? What would you do?"

"Money isn't an issue." I lie defiantly.

"Please. You've been brutally honest so far, don't stop now." His smirk is devilishly handsome, thinly veiling the sarcasm underneath.

Well, he has a point - I'll never see him again. And if it makes this ride go any quicker, why not tell him? I liked the ride over much better, I sigh. "I'd go to college."

"College?" Beau repeats. I wait, expecting a mocking remark or unimpressed groan. "To study what?" He asks instead.

"Let's not." I stop him there. "I'm no where close to thinking about that," Another lie. I have it all planned out: I'd study writing at the same college my parents met. Where they fell in love. If only tuition wasn't so high.

"Well. It looks like we've both got problems," Beau leans his head against the red leather headrest across from me. His eyes linger on my face lazily. "So how about a deal?"

"Oh no," I laugh humorlessly. "No more deals for me,"

"Even if it'll help you get to college?" His brows are raised, hidden beneath his long hair. I hesitate a moment too long and he pounces on the opportunity. "You keep doing stuff like tonight, help me look better to my publicity people, and we pay you." Beau leans forward, elbows on his knees. "More than we did tonight," He adds.

"I can't," I force the words out of my mouth before I can give in. I'll find another way, I promise myself. College will be there when I'm ready. It will be.

"Hm," Beau shrugs. "Guess some dreams really are just dreams, huh?"

"What?" I protest. "I'll find a way to afford school,"

"Working in a coffee shop?" Beau picks at chipped black nail polish. "Probably not. But who am I to judge?" Fuming inside, I bite my tongue to stay silent. He's right, who is he to judge me? He doesn't know me... How much longer is this stupid car ride? "I just could never imagine having my dream so close and not doing everything I could to get it," Beau continues taunting me.

I look up from my hands, jaw dropped. His lips turn up in a Cheshire Cat grin, knowing my next words before I even speak them.

"Fine," I lock my eyes on his, "Let's make a deal."