“My parents both thrived on the constant attention.” The mattress shook as he fell back against his pillow, staring at the ceiling. “I’m sure you’ve read all about them. Their goal was to be on the front page of every magazine. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if social media had existed when I was ten.”
The laugh was so bitter she almost didn’t recognize it as Corey’s.
There was a fairy-tale aspect to his parents’ story—the star athlete and singer-actress dubbed America’s Sweetheart. Of course people wanted a glimpse into their lives.
“Two people who are used to being the center of attention, too big to contain, should never get together. My life was a constant power struggle of which parent was more beloved by the world. And I played perfectly into that. As many media outlets have pointed out, I got a lot from both of them. Looks, talent, personality.”
His dirty-blond hair, the exact shade of his mom’s, rested against his forehead, and she reached out to brush it back, but he flinched away.
“Sorry.” He pulled her arm, settling her against his chest. The gesture didn’t seem comforting to him, though. Like he’d done it so she couldn’t look at him as he talked. But he didn’t give her the chance to say anything before he went on. “Dad said I got my roller-coaster mood swings from my mom. Anytime I was upset or sad, he mocked me. Mom said I got my temper from my dad. Anytime I was mad, she judged me. I couldn’t live up to either of their ideas of perfect. So, I worried anytime I had feelings that I was doing something wrong.”
He played with the ends of her hair.
“It got worse when I started school. They blamed each other because I was stupid.”
Her body jerked, but he tightened his arms around her. “I’m sorry, what?” she asked as soon as she realized he didn’t want her to look at him.
“It took a few years for the teachers to realize I was dyslexic. Mostly because my parents didn’t want me tested. They didn’t want anything to be wrong with me. It didn’t fit their image.”
Now she forced him to release her. His eyes were wary and guarded, but she wouldn’t have that, especially when he started to look away. She moved his face back so he was looking at her. “Do not be embarrassed. My nephew, Noah, is dyslexic.”
Corey’s eyes softened at her words, so she continued.
“He’s sharp as a tack, brilliant kid. He struggles with reading and works twice as hard as most kids, but he is not stupid, and neither are you.”
He swallowed. “For a long time, I thought I was, and—to sum it up, I still don’t read well.”
Oh wow.
The contracts he signed suddenly made a lot more sense. But anger rose in her stomach, and she wanted to chew Sean out for letting it happen. Corey might have fired him, but knowing how hard reading a contract for Corey would be, he should have jumped in. She’d never known Sean to be the kind of cut-throat who was out to screw someone over, which was why she used him, and she couldn’t believe he would do that to Corey.
“I can see your brain working. It would be a huge story because this is not something anyone knows. My parents were so embarrassed that they didn’t let it get out. So outside of my teachers, six people know this. And their last names are all Evans.” He cleared his throat. His gaze swung down to her, and the vulnerability in his eyes was shocking. Because she expected the Corey Matthews who walked into the room as if he owned it, not the one who looked like he didn’t know where he belonged. “Well, two are Demoda, but Marc and Beth might as well be Evanses.”
“You can trust me, Corey,” she promised. Although she couldn’t be mad at Sean for something he didn’t know, she needed to make sure he got rid of his copy of the contract. She had already decided to delete it, but this only confirmed she’d made the right call.
“I’m putting a lot of faith in you.” The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly. “But since school was so bad, my activities became their focus—depending on the day, I should be an actor, a baseball player, a musician, a model.” He yanked his hand away from hers as he ran his fingers through his hair. “They both had plans before I was eight, and they always wanted to know which I liked better—Mom’s plans or Dad’s. On the days they fought, they used me as a pawn in their competition against each other. On the good days when they were madly in love, I wasn’t good enough for either of them.”
That statement caused an unfamiliar crack in her chest.
“Corey—”
“You get that’s wrong. Most people know that’s not the way to treat a child, but few understand how it feels.”
Holy hell.
She’d been numb for months—years. But hearing the pain in his voice hurt. The satin sheet yanked against her skin, and she looked down to see it fisted in his fingers. She covered his hand with hers and went with encouragement.
“It’s impressive that you didn’t fall into the same patterns as your parents.”
“I would have been a complete shit if it wasn’t for the Evans family. Lynn Evans, the guys’ mother, realized pretty quickly I needed some positive adult attention.” His entire demeanor lightened at the mention of the Evanses, and he even chuckled.
She settled her palms against his chest and rested her chin on them, watching him.
“Will and I played on the same U-eleven little league club team. Mom and I were in New Jersey for the two years she was in Rent.”
Debra Matthews had rotated between Broadway and Hollywood. But Taran hadn’t realized that left Corey moving back and forth across the US every couple of years.
“Will started offering me rides to the practice and then invited me over to his house. Beth had moved in with them that year. The last thing Lynn and Rob probably needed was anotherpreteen boy, but that didn’t stop them from treating me like I was one of their kids. Without their dad, Rob”—Corey shook his head—“there is no way I’d read as well as I do.”