Page 19 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

Francesco made me feel as though I was nothing. He brought out a side of me I thought was long gone, the one who worried about what she looked like and how she acted around guys. I was brought back to high school, when I had people constantly speaking about my weight – I was always skinny, and I’d constantly get comments about me needing to get meat on my bones – and it was tough to go through.

I swore to myself I’d never let anything like that happen again, and I’ve stood by that.

A loud snore knocks me out of my thoughts and I curse at myself silently, then pull the t-shirt over my head. I grab the brush I left sitting on the bathroom sink before I left for my date, combing through my hair quickly, and head back into the living room slowly. The guy Mallory has in her bed lets out another loud snore, making Mallory stir, and I snort softly.

If he manages to wake her up in the middle of the night, he better run as far away as he possibly can. The one thing I’ve learned about Mallory since becoming her friend is that she is not a morning person. If she has to be awake early, it normally involves a large cup of coffee that she has to lick clean before being her usual bubbly self.

As I climb onto one of the stools sitting in front of the kitchen island, my phone vibrates under my ass and I pull it out with scrunched eyebrows. It’s a random number I’ve never seen before telling me goodnight, something simple, but who did I even give my number to recently? Instead of texting the number back, I sit my phone on the edge of the island next to me and lean forward to rest my head in my hands.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day for me.

Brent will likely act as though nothing happened between us, which is for the best, and I hate how wrong it feels. Granted, it also feels wrong that I haven’t said anything to Mallory about what’s going on.

She means well, most of the time, but her constant jokes about how my love life is going is making me feel worse and worse about the trajectory of my life. I want the kids, a loving husband, and us to adopt dogs from rescues because I’m a sucker for the sad animal commercials I used to see growing up. When will I get to that point in my life?

My head spins from the overwhelming thoughts and I sigh into the pillow before looking up at the ceiling. I don’t know why I thought that I’d be able to rush back here, go to sleep, and act as though everything that happened tonight was an amazing dream instead of real. The gears in my head won’t stop spinning.

What is Brent thinking right now? Is he laying in bed just like I am, overthinking everything that happened tonight?

What if he decides I’m not good enough to keep this ball rolling while we are here?

That thought sends my heart plummeting straight to my ass and my stomach churns with anxiety. It would be exactly as it was with Francesco – me not being enough and only being good for his benefit. What does Brent get out of this with me though?

Maybe he’s using my girl-next-door vibe to perfect his image.

How do I know there hasn’t been someone following us around, taking pictures of us together, that Brent approves of when he’s not around me?

“Jules?” Mallory mumbles while still half asleep.

“Hm?”

“Please stop talking to yourself,” she whispers, then silence blankets the room.

A smile tips at the corner of my mouth and I shake my head. How this woman can sleep through her new boy toy’s snores, but wake up to me mumbling to myself – which I didn’t realize I was doing – I have no clue. Before I make things worse, I lift from the chair, walk upstairs, turning into the last room on the left, and point my gaze out the large window ahead once I get inside.

Tomorrow will be better.

***

I grunt from the pain as my body hits the floor and a soft giggle has me popping an eye open. Mallory is kneeling on my bed with a bright smile on her face like she’s proud of herself, but I glare at her before rising from the floor. “What the hell was that for?”

“You woke me up last night, figured it was only right,” she says with a shrug before making her way into the adjoining bathroom.

It’s unlikely I’m going to fall back asleep, so I smooth my clothes out and follow her into the separate room. While she messes with her hair in the mirror, I lean against the doorframe and I eye her through the mirror with a curious glance. “Good night last night I take it?”

She darts her gaze over to mine, her cheeks heating up at the question, and the sight shocks me. In all the years I’ve known her, men have never been able to get her nervous like this, and it’s odd to see. Are we switching roles on this trip, or what? “It was… something.”

I hum in response and smile. “You seeing him again while we’re here?”

“Maybe,” she says nonchalantly, but the way her eyes brighten at the idea tells me everything I need to know.

“I say give it a shot. It’s only two weeks, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Isn’t that a question I should be asking myself?

Mallory sighs and turns toward me with an eyebrow raised. “Where were you last night so late?”

I should’ve known I wouldn’t be able to get away with walking in at the time I did. It’s not like me. Normally I’m in bed before nine, then waking up at six in the morning to get everything set up for my work day. On the weekends, I use that as my relaxation time but still manage to go to bed at around ten at night and instead wake up around seven or eight.

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