Page 195 of Reverse

Frowning, I set the glass down on a linen-covered high top and pull my phone out to see the link Jonathan sent. Clicking on it, I sway in shock and fear when a damning picture of Jonathan and me out front of the gala pops up. Bracing myself on the high top, I take note of every incriminating detail—his hand on the small of my back, face inches from mine, not to mention the smile we’re sharing. Every point of focus condemning even before I scan the scathing headline.

Is the newlyCrowned media heiress already stepping out? An inside source reveals why being the wife of a rock star isn’t a fit for Hearst Media’s princess.”

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

Rushing toward the balcony doors adjacent to the ballroom, I feel the weight of the implication of the picture hit me as I continually study it. Jonathan and I look smitten. Dread circulates through me when another notification banner shows two missed calls fromEC. I immediately hit it, dialing him back while I glance around, thankful no one is in clear earshot. He answers on the first ring. The call seconds start to tick by without a word spoken from him as I jump right in.

“Easton,” I breathe. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I thought you were getting ready to go on stage.” I swallow as fear threatens to steal my words. “If you saw that picture—”

“Are you with him?” The accusation in his voice rips through my chest. His simmering anger last night has now turned to fury. “Answer me!” he growls.

“No, Easton . . . no,” I whisper. “How could you possibly believe that?”

“Have you forgotten, jealousy is new for me, and me and the green guy are not fucking getting along well at all.”

“Please don’t believe it,” I rasp.

“Looks pretty fucking believable,” he fires off, voice loaded.

“You know better than to play into headlines. I’ll admit, it’s a damning picture—”

“He’s touching you, and you’re fucking smiling at him. Is that part not true?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think.” I hear the distinct swish of liquid in a bottle and pause. “Are you drunk?”

“Working on it,” he snaps.

“Well, it’s not going to help anything and will only add to your paranoia. I’m not with him, or anyone else for that matter. You know that. You’re just angry and have every right to be, but the only man I want is berating me on the phone right now. I miss you every minute of every day. I was upset and trying to gather my wits in the limo, and Jonathan spotted me hiding. He lured me out and cracked a joke to comfort me before escorting me in. That’s all that was.”

“You’remineto comfort! Those are my goddamn lips, lips meant to smile formein that way. That’s my body, a bodynot meant for anyone elseto touch!”

“Stop it,” I defend. “I shouldn’t even have to say this, but Easton, he’s gay.”

“How convenient.”

“We promised we wouldn’t let this happen.”

“We promised a fucking lot, Natalie, but I seem to be the only one keeping them.”

“Easton, I know I haven’t been fair to you.” I manage to keep my voice even as I glance into the ballroom, thankful both my parents are distracted. “I was also tearful in that limo because Dad and I . . . we’re finally talking again. He apologized to me on the way here.”

Silence.

In the ballroom, Dad cracks a megawatt grin, Mom at his side as they chat with a crowd of people. It’s the first genuine smile I’ve glimpsed from him since before Sedona. With the sight of that, I see the possibility of renewed normalcy.

“There’s a plane touching down in twenty minutes. I want you on it.”

“What?”

“Come to me, Beauty. I’m asking you to come to me.”

“That sounded more like an order,” I fire.

“So, I guess we’re only taking them from Daddy, then?”

“Stop it. Stop it. You know I can’t come to you tonight. If I do, it will ruin every bit of progress we just made.”

He barks out a laugh full of sarcasm. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

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