Page 40 of Stuck with a Billionaire Rockstar

“Mack’s going to kill me,” I mutter. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“We’re still going with the plan, Brent. It’s just going to be slightly different from what we wrote out.”

“Sure, Mal, yeah.” Before she can try to give me a pep talk, I hang up the phone and throw the device at the wall. I watch it shatter into pieces, but make no move to pick it up because I don’t give a shit about it right now.

That’s what Julia’s heart looks like because I couldn’t take care of it the way she deserves.

All I can do is hope that everything I’ve planned works out.

I never should’ve lied to her.

21

Julia

When I walk through my front door, I’m met by an empty room instead of Brent’s bare chest, something I realize I’m missing much more than I should be. I should be happy. I’ve come out of my shell, but how can I be when I know that Brent is the reason for that?

Why did I think things would go differently?

I was hoping for too much, so it’s only my fault that I got heartbroken when I approached his suite. Even though I couldn’t catch a flight until the following morning, I chose to go to a different hotel for the night and let Mallory have our suite to herself – I’ll admit, it was because I knew Brent would attempt to come to talk to me and there was no way I could deal with that.

It also didn’t help that Mallory was trying to choose between two sides, and I didn’t want to make her do that, so I left. After a few days of flying and layovers, I thought being at home would feel amazing. It doesn’t; all it shows is how alone I truly am in terms of my love life.

I drop my suitcase onto the floor, curl up on the couch, and stare at the dark screen of my TV, thoughts running through my mind.

What’s Brent doing right now?

As if I’ll find out, I grab my phone and go to Instagram only to come up empty. The only thing I can find is the image that circulated with the two of us, still filled with rude comments, but it’s the nicer ones that catch my attention. There are a few people talking about how good we look together and how proud they are that Brent found someone perfect for him.

It’s funny when fans say things like that because they don’t know more than what the media allows about someone, yet they think they know Brent’s entire life story. They have no idea who the real Brent is, not like I do.

He’s sweet and caring, always there to stick up for you when it’s needed. The night he ran me a bath and listened to me about Mallory showed me he’s a good listener as well. All these fans see is that he moves from woman to woman, taking whoever he flirts with home to his bed, but that’s not his true character.

The botanical garden? He knew that I would want to go somewhere like that and listen to the rich history of the place, and he had no issue taking me there.

With my thoughts running all over the place, I lift from the couch and head into the kitchen to put water into my tea kettle. A nice hot cup of chamomile tea should do the trick and get me relaxed enough to rest. While the water gets heated on the stove, I go to my fridge and pull the door open to see if there’s something small to eat inside.

I scrunch my nose at the smell coming from inside and snatch the packages of lunch meat thrown haphazardly on the second shelf. Would’ve been a good idea if I made sure to throw some stuff out before leaving. This is probably a hint at what my life is going to be like from now on – trash.

At least, that’s what it feels like it’s going to be like.

Now that the stench of my moldy lunch meat has hit my nostrils, the idea of food doesn’t seem as appealing as it did before. I shake my head and lean against the counter, my eyes locked on the tea kettle that has steam slowly starting to billow out of it.

It only takes a few more minutes for the kettle to start whistling, so I reach into the cabinet above the counter and next to the fridge for a mug. There’s a jar of honey sitting on top of the stove, only a small amount left inside, and I pour what’s left into the steaming cup before heading into my room with hopes of getting the rest I’m desperately in need of.

Except, every time I close my eyes in an attempt to sleep, I imagine Brent lying behind me with his arm draped over my waist and kissing the spot behind my ear as his way of saying goodnight. I wish I could feel the safety of his arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me tucked into his chest, and the gentle thump of his heartbeat as he falls into a deep sleep. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine his warm breath brushing against my air as he breathes in and out.

All it takes is a few sips of the scolding tea, ten minutes of leaning against the headboard, and my mind becomes less frantic – which is a huge relief. With the chamomile tea flooding through me, I let silent tears fall down my cheek as I lift my large quilt over my frame and curl under its warmth. It’s as I do this that my eyes finally become too heavy with sleep, and I fall into darkness.

***

A loud noise has me jolting upright in my bed and darting my gaze around, my vision blurring under the blinding light hanging above my bed. I squint against it until everything clears, and then I throw my legs over the side of the bed with a sigh. My mug of tea is still sitting on my nightstand where I left it before I fell asleep, so I grab it and stumble out of my room.

I come to a stop in the middle of the hallway when I notice a shadow move along the living room wall, then swing my hands around until it lands on something hard without looking down to see what it is. As slowly as possible, I inch further down the hall and peer around the corner to see if I can catch sight of whoever it is – unfortunately, all I can see is the back of their head.

With a deep breath, I tighten my grip on my unknown weapon and dart around the corner. “Get out of my house!”

“Down, girl,” Mallory says with a chuckle.

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