Page 32 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

“She’s my sister’s best friend,” I say honestly. “It just happened.”

“For shit’s sake,” he mutters before sighing heavily. “Well, what do you want me to do, Brent?”

“Leave it alone.”

“For the record,” he states. “I think this is a terrible idea.”

“Well, I don’t pay you to approve my love life,” I snap, then sink onto the edge of my bed and take a deep breath. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap at you. She’s upset and thinks I used her as a PR stunt.”

“And that’s my cue to end the conversation. I’m pretty sure my three marriages make me the worst person to give advice on this kind of thing. Talk to you later, and please,” he says roughly, “Keep scandals to a minimum.”

“See ya, Mack.”

I sigh heavily and fling myself back, my gaze fixed on the ceiling fan shaped like palm tree leaves, with my mind focused on Julia’s reaction. Why did it make her so upset? Maybe she’s not one to like being in the spotlight, which would be a good reason to shut down everything we are doing since that’s what my career is all about, but wouldn’t she have mentioned that to me? It’s not like we would’ve gone this entire time without someone knowing who I am, so that can’t possibly be it.

What I’d really love is to have been able to talk to her about it and assure her I wasn’t the one who planned the picture, but she’s not talking to me at the moment – if my three unanswered texts since I made my way back to my suite are any indication and the way she ran off.

The loud knock on my door makes me jump up, hopeful that it’s Julia, but I’m surprised to find my sister standing outside of it with a frown on her face. “Mallory, what are you doing here?”

“It’s barely been an hour, Brent. What the hell did you do?”

“Why do you automatically assume I did something?” She doesn’t even wait for me to invite her in and instead pushes past me with her nostrils flaring.

“Because trouble seems to follow you,” she snaps. “So, what happened?”

“I’m tired.” The last person I want to talk to is my sister, who already looks like she’s about ready to punch me in the face. “Can we not do this right now?”

She scoffs in response and shakes her head, not bothering to make a move out of my suite. “I’m your sister, Brent. I know what you look like when you’re tired.” She flops onto the small couch and leans into it. “Might as well sit because I’m not leaving until we talk.”

“I don’t know why it’s so important,” I mutter.

“Because she likes you, you idiot!” My sister points toward the leather chair in front of her and raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge. “Sit.” When I finally sink into the chair, she glares at me. “Is this just a game to you? A way to pass the time until you leave and head back to your luxurious lifestyle?”

I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “I don’t know what it is, Mal.” I’m being honest enough, except I refuse to tell her that it goes much deeper than that.

“Talk to me, Brent, because you can’t just string her along. She may not be admitting it, but her feelings are much deeper than what you guys agreed to for this vacation, and I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“She knew what she was getting into from the start, Mallory. If she developed feelings, I can’t be at fault for that.”

A frown pulls at her lips, and she asks, “And you’re telling me that you can’t tell she looks at you a certain way?” She chuckles at that. “I mean, I could tell when you guys were around each other, but I thought it was because of the whole rockstar thing you’ve got going on.”

That changes things a little bit, but how much?

My sister isn’t wrong. I’ve noticed a change in the way Julia looks at me now, and the only reason I haven’t worried about it is because I’m starting to look at her the same way. There’s this light that shines brighter in her eyes when she’s watching me, especially when we were at the botanical garden and the way she was on the verge of crying after thinking I could be using her. It’s not a reaction she should’ve had if this thing between us isn’t becoming real. When she’s got her hands on me, it’s as though she’s aiming to explore every inch of me and savor it.

I get the same way with her.

I’d love to tell Mallory some bullshit lie and act like I don’t know what she’s talking about, but the way she’s looking at me leaves me no option but to tell the truth. I blow out a rough breath and give her my most serious expression as I say, “I’m getting feelings for her, okay?”

Her eyes widen, mouth parting, and she shakes her head. “No, you don’t catch feelings.”

I throw my hands in the air and chuckle. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s not the case anymore.”

“You’re joking,” she snaps. “You’re just messing with her, Brent.”

“I wish I could say that I am, but I’m not, Mallory. If I had known spending all this time with her would provoke these feelings, I wouldn’t have offered to help her.”

“I don’t believe you.”

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