Page 63 of Beyond the Fame

“Who’s this fool, Rebecca?” Pa grumbles. “Is he bothering you?”

I don’t make a move as Pa, who’s met me before, gives me a murderous once-over.

“Norman, calm down. This is Rebecca’s boyfriend, Jensen,” Lana’s grandmother answers. I tense at the word boyfriend, but Rebecca laughs and squeezes my hand.

“He’s not bothering me today, Pa, but if he acts up, I’ll make sure to send him your way.”

“I didn’t bring ole Betsy but say the word and I’ll find a shotgun somewhere.”

My mouth hangs open. Did this old man just say he’d shoot me?

Mylan squeezes my shoulder. “That means he likes you.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

“It’s a southern thing,” Lana says, amused. She then scans our bodies from head to toe and wags her brows at us. “You two sure are up early.”

I glance at Rebecca, and she winks back and says, “Actually, we haven’t gone to sleep yet.”

“Hurry on up, Banana. We’re hungrier than a hog over here,” Pa complains as he and Gram start walking off towards one of the resort’s restaurants.

“I’d ask if you two want to come to breakfast with us, but…” Lana taps her lips. “It appears you two need a shower. I’m curious as to how you two got covered in so much sand.”

“Sex on the beach?” Mylan asks with an annoyingly smug smile.

“For your information,” Rebecca begins. “No, we did not have sex on the beach. But we did in our suite. We fucked a lot. Then we went skinny dipping and got busted by a grounds worker, so we hung out on the beach and built a sandcastle and missed the sun coming up because we couldn’t stop kissing. That is why we’re covered in sand.”

I nearly choke on my spit at Rebecca’s confession to our entire night.

“And we’re not done yet, so if you’ll excuse us, we’re going back to our suite to fuck some more.”

She weaves her fingers with mine and we enter an elevator that just opened to unload hotel guests.

“I have so many questions,” Lana says. Her cackling laugh and Mylan’s shocked face are the last things we see when the doors close.

“Um...” I mumble.

She shrugs. “What? They were going to find out anyway. If we pretended nothing had happened, they would have forced us to confess. Now they can obsess over it at breakfast without us.”

The elevator arrives on the ninth floor. We exit and walk down the long open-air hallway, still holding hands. She didn’t even attempt to let go while talking to Lana and Mylan.

We reach our suite, and the door at the end of the hallway opens, startling us. A giggling woman stumbles out.

“Eloise?” I ask, amused.

The DJ from the wedding appears by her side, looking disheveled and well-fucked.

“Oh. Jensen and Rebecca. Hi.” Eloise smirks when she glances down at our embraced hands. “You two have a good night?”

“We did,” Rebecca purrs. “Looks like you had fun as well.”

The two steal a look and laugh, blushing wonderfully.

“Yes, last night was amazing.” Eloise clears her throat. “But Kelly—this is Kelly, by the way—has an early flight back to L.A. and they’re leaving me to go pack.”

Kelly, who has short dark brown hair with a constellation of stars designed into the side, wearing a black crop top and white parachute pants, brings Eloise in for a kiss.

“You have my number. Text me when you’re back in L.A.”

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