Page 121 of The Bridges I've Burned

Yes, sir.

A shitstorm.

I swallowed audibly. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t known.

Lance and Ridge had been preparing me for what would follow after the official news broke. Since I was relatively unknown, my life would be ripped apart by the press.

Any little crumb. Any piece of the puzzle. All up for grabs.

We’d made it harder for them, keeping my real name hidden behind legal paperwork. But with this level of scrutiny, it was only a matter of time. It would only take one person to reveal my real name.

And when they did…

My stomach churned when I thought about the information they might print.

Dead mother. Alcoholic father. Runaway.

Would journalists come down here and harass my family? Follow them? The thought of Macon and Marin’s perfect little life here getting turned upside down because of me was unfathomable.

This was why I should have stayed away.

The tattoo on my side seemed to burn at that very thought.

You should tell them…

You should tell her…

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep this secret. The last few days with Elena had been like a fever dream. Both of us were fucking kidding ourselves if we thought this thing between us was normal.

I’d done the casual thing.

I’d fucking thrived in it, and what I felt for Elena was nowhere near casual. It felt…permanent.

I’d been honest with her in that studio. I had no idea where we were headed. I had no idea where she and I would be in two weeks, let alone two months, but knowing that didn’t make me want to stop.

From that very first kiss in that bridal shop, I had known I was done for.

But I knew the shitstorm my life was headed into in a few weeks. She didn’t.

If she did, would she still be all in? Or would she be slamming on the brakes, ready to walk away?

What a fucking nightmare.

How would I even begin to explain it all?

Hey, so funny story…

I’m about to join one of the biggest bands on the planet, where I’ll be obsessed over, under constant scrutiny, and never be able to go out in public again without being recognized.

Wanna be my girlfriend?

I scrubbed a hand down my face as I reached for the fridge. But before I could get there, Elena walked through the front door. It had only been hours since I’d seen her, but my heart raced at the mere sight of her.

My eyes slowly raked down her body as she closed the door behind her.

“God-fucking-damn,” I murmured. “Is that what one wears to the spa?”

When I’d left this morning, she’d still been in a robe, blow-drying her hair after we spent far too long getting it wet in the shower.

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