Page 33 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

This is what I expected when I told her, which is why I need to prove that everything I say is true. “Fine,” I say. “A few nights from now there’s going to be a concert outside the resort, I want all three of us to go.”

After spending the day with Julia at the botanical garden, I went on my phone and looked up other things couples could do around St. Croix. As it turns out, there’s going to be a smaller band performing along the beach a few miles away from the resort. It was going to be another one of the fake dates – if I could even call it that anymore – I took Julia on, but this seems like as good a time as any to go.

I would’ve talked to Julia about everything first, I wanted to tonight when she came back to my room, but I get the sense that she’s not speaking to me for the remainder of the night.

“Uh, why?”

“I’m going to show you I’m serious about my feelings. If you don’t believe my words, maybe you’ll trust my actions.”

She blinks and leans back, contemplating the plans. “You aren’t lying.” Her gaze penetrates mine, trying to find the lie hidden somewhere inside of it, and I can tell she comes up empty because she perks up after a few seconds. “Well, now I can work my magic, I guess.”

I shake my head and frown. “No, wait… maybe. Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“What do you mean you shouldn’t? You just said you have feelings for her.”

“Yeah, but what if this is all for the best? A sign? Like I shouldn’t let myself get caught up in someone again, not after all the other shit I’ve been through with my exes.”” Even if she doesn’t keep tabs on me, that doesn’t mean she has no clue what I’ve been through, and I see the hurt flash across her eyes. I was a mess through it all, hence the reason I’ve refused to let another woman pass the wall I’ve built.

Until Julia.

“Wow, you guys are on a roll tonight,” she mutters, leaving me confused for a moment, before asking, “Is that what you think Julia would do, Brent? Use you?”

“I’m not sure what I think, Mal.” I take a deep breath, silently cursing at myself for getting emotional with my sister, and then look at her with sad eyes. “But what I do know is that I can’t get enough of her.”

“I still don’t understand why she’s upset,” Mallory says.

“She thinks I hired someone to take that picture of us.”

“Did you?”

“No,” I say softly. “I wouldn’t use her like that, Mal.” Can I say I’m not happy it got put on there for everyone to see? No, but I wasn’t the one who arranged it.

“Looks like we’ve got work to do, and that starts with the concert tomorrow night. What time?”

“Meet me out front around five. We’ll get there a little early.”

Mallory lifts from the couch and walks over to me with a smile full of hope and I hate that it’s possible I’ll snuff all that hope out before the vacation is over with. Although my feelings might be getting deeper for Julia, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to handle the commitment. “Talk to her and make sure she knows you aren’t in on the photograph thing, then go from there.” She pulls away and points a finger at me with narrowed eyes. “If you hurt her, though, I’ll hurt you. She’s fragile, even if she doesn’t think so.”

With that, Mallory walks out of the suite and heads back to whatever she’s doing with Julia while I stand alone in the small living space. It feels empty without Julia here, and I hate that. I hate that I’ve gotten to the point where I need her presence to not feel alone when it’s something I didn’t need before.

This isn’t me.

Or is it?

I’m sure if I called Ryker, he would convince me not to continue things with her and explain how fun the single life will always be, and that’s exactly why I don’t call him. Maybe after the concert, when I’ve had some time to sort through my feelings and determine how deep they are, I’ll give him a call.

Tonight, though, I need to figure out how to get both Julia and Mallory to believe my intentions are true—that I didn’t arrange that photo—and that my feelings are deeper and more real than I ever imagined they could be.

17

Julia

After that image circulated on the internet and random people throughout the world gave their input on me, the last thing I want to do is go out tonight. About halfway through our marathon last night, Mallory said the snack I got her wasn’t what she wanted, so she went back to the vending machine and came back with plans for the next night—and that’s now.

Mallory has been sitting on a small wooden chair in the bathroom doing her hair and makeup while I’ve looked at my wardrobe what seems like a thousand times for something decent to wear. No one wants to see me in a damn pencil skirt for a concert on the beach, that’s for damn sure, so what could I possibly wear that won’t scream she’s a virgin when that’s clearly not true?

As if sensing my dilemma, Mallory comes strutting into the room and sighs heavily while leaning against the wall in front of my bed. “Seriously? We’re going to be late, Jules.”

I roll my eyes. “I looked the concert up, it doesn’t start until seven. We’ve got plenty of time.”

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