Page 82 of How to Love a Rockstar

Dylan growls behind me. “He should have known better.”

“True.” Gibson clears his throat. “I’m around if you need anything.”

Indigo waits until Fender and Gibson are gone to throw herself at me. “Jett is such an idiot. I’m so sorry. In his defense, he doesn’t know about your past. It doesn’t make what he did okay and I will be delivering some brownies laced with Ex-lax to his jail cell tonight, but he didn’t know.”

She squeezes me one more time before releasing me. I know what her squeeze means. She thinks I should tell Dylan about my past. As if I have a choice after today.

Cash kisses my cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay, Virginia.”

Once they’re gone, I’m left alone with Dylan. He draws a hand down his face. “Fuck. You scared me today.”

“It wasn’t my intention.”

“I’m not blaming you. Sorry if it sounded as if I were.”

I inhale a deep breath and blow it out. Getting defensive with the man who came to my rescue was not my intention either.

“I’m ready to go home.”

“I’m just going to check all the windows and doors are locked,” Dylan says and stalks off.

He’s making sure I feel safe. Again. How can I not love this man?

Shit. I have to tell him about my past.

Chapter 26

Family – biology doesn’t necessarily create one

Virginia

“What do you want for dinner?” Dylan asks when we enter my apartment.

He’s ready to move on from what happened in the library but I can’t. If I don’t tell him why I had a complete meltdown now, I won’t ever tell him.

I hate telling people about my past. Despite Indigo being my closest friend in high school, I would havenevertold her what happened if I hadn’t had a panic attack during a field trip to the zoo in our junior year.

“Can we talk?”

“Do I need an adult beverage for this talk?” He jokes but there’s worry in his eyes.

“I think we both do.”

“Sit.” He kisses my forehead before grabbing two beers from the refrigerator. He hands one to me before joining me on the sofa. “Unless you think we need tequila for this conversation.”

I pretend to ponder the idea.

“Shit. I’m not going to enjoy this, am I?”

“No.”

“Promise you’re not breaking up with me.”

He’s the one who will be doing the breaking up once he hears my pathetic story.

“I’m not breaking up with you.”

“You didn’t say you promise.”

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