Page 8 of His Secret Addiction

“Is this some kind of a prank?”

“No.”

“Why am I the last person to find out that I am dating the most popular member of DC then?”

I can’t help a smirk, shutting the door behind me. “You think I am the most popular member?”

“Shut up.” she growls, heat climbing her cheeks, and she tries to hide it. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Whatever it is I am feeling is quickly replaced by humor as I push away from the door and approach the girl, fully conscious of the large king-size bed in the center of the room. I walk up to Lizzie and lean into whisper. “Do you want me to shut up or answer your questions?”

She visibly shudders, her breath hitching, and I can’t begin to dissect what that does to me. On the drive here, I questioned what kind of reception I would get from a girl I’d only ever known as my neighbor. Would she ask for money to keep the ruse a secret, or would she yell at me for putting out such a blatant lie on social media without her consent and possibly ruining her life?

Right now, I’m getting neither.

There is mild annoyance, but there is something else surprising. Heat. So strong, it sizzles between us in bright colors.

“Answers,” she breathes. “I want answers. Was the post a joke? Did James put you up to it?”

“No, it’s not a joke,” I say truthfully. Quite frankly, I want to play with her a little more just to get a reaction out of her, but I owe her the truth. What my record label did with that post crossed a dozen lines, and she deserves answers. “You’ll want to sit down for this.”

Her eyes turn alarmed. “W-what, why?”

“Let me explain myself, and if you tell me to lost afterward, I will. It wasn’t me who posted that picture or the caption that went along with it. But I am so sorry that it happened.”

She seems taken aback by my words, but she nods, walking over to the bed and sitting down. “Okay, tell me.”

“You may or may not have heard of this but DC has disbanded. The label terminated the contracts for everyone in the band except me. Now they want me to pursue a solo career.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

I’ve only ever been known as the frontman for DC. Losing my band could be the end of my career. I don’t have the fan following that those guys do.

“Sebastian,” she whispers, tapping the spot next to hers and against my better judgment, I walk over to her and sit down. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I know how hard you’ve worked on your career. Are you okay?”

Her brows are furrowed with concern, her voice soft, and she undoes me. Ever since the news broke of my own bandmates leaking the music and trashing me to anyone who’d listen, I haven’t had anyone show such concern over my failing career. Not so openly.

“I’ll be okay,” I assure her, and realize for the first time that I am, in fact, okay. Seeing Lizzie once more, I am reminded of my days locked in my room practicing my guitar or drums andcreating music by myself. Well, me and the girl who liked to spy on me from her window. A smile I haven’t felt in what feels like ages brushes my lips at the memory of the girl ducking under her window whenever I caught her spying on me.

“Where do I come in with all of this?” she asks, her voice soft. “Wait, are you using me as a PR tactic to divert attention from the band’s fallout?”

“Yes.”

She seems taken aback by my response. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“Look,” I start, raking my brain for a way to explain this to her but decide to go with the truth. “With the band done and the label forced to keep me since I didn’t violate my contract, they said I need to create a different image from the one I have, that I have to show more of myself to the fans.”

“And that requires having a girlfriend? Why don’t you just hire one? Aren’t most celebrities in contracted relationships anyway?”

I know a couple of high-profile celebrities in those kinds of relationships, and every one of them is miserable. “A contracted relationship is not something I have ever entered into, nor will I ever entertain the idea.”

“But you are fine with a fake one with some girl from your hometown,” she snarks.

It’s meant to be a jab, but it doesn’t quite hit the mark because I am not looking to have a fake relationship with Lizzy. From the moment my eyes connected with that photo, it felt like fate showing me what I needed in my life. And when Gary, on behalf of the label, acted without my permission and posted that picture of Lizzie my public social media profile, Idecided now was the perfect time to return to Valor Springs and attempt some damage control and maybe take advantage of the opportunity to get close to Lizzy.

I was pissed when I found out what Gary had done behind my back. I’d underestimated his ability to track down Lizzy’s picture after having seen it for only a second. But he managed to not only find her profile, but also convinced the label’s PR team that this was the best plan, never mind the fact that Lizzie had no knowledge of it. After realizing what he’d done, I was going to demand he take it down and issue a retraction immediately, but I couldn’t find the little weasel. He obviously knew how angry I’d be and is avoiding me. But then I realized that Gary had inadvertently offered me the exact opportunity I needed.

She is exactly what I need in my life right now and not just for publicity. This girl has been there, quietly watching from the background, for all major milestones of my life, though she may not even realize it. Growing up, my household was chaotic. My parents were constantly running from one activity to another, never slowing down. Music was how I relaxed, how I caught my breath. And every time I played, little Lizzie from next door would show up in her window, an audience of one. She might have been a kid, but her reliable, quiet presence helped calm me. Lizzie was predictable in ways nothing else in my life was. Heck, even I didn’t realize it until I was thinking back over my memories of growing up in Valor Springs on the drive here.

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