Page 94 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

I instinctively step in front of Lila, shielding her with my body.

“Care to comment on the rumors about your breakup with Crystal Davidson?” the reporter asks, eyes gleaming as she shoves the mic toward me. “Sources say it wasn’t mutual. That she’s devastated. Care to set the record straight?”

I clench my jaw.

Of course, they’d spin it that way.

Crystal could probably be sunbathing in the Maldives right now, sipping a martini and not giving a damn, but the press will make her out to be some kind of tragic, scorned woman just for the drama of it all.

Lila stiffens beside me. I can feel it—the way she takes in every word, the way her fingers tighten into fists.

I exhale slowly, keeping my expression neutral. “No comment.”

The reporter doesn’t let up. “What about your new girl?” She turns her attention to Lila, zeroing in like a predator sensing fresh blood. “The woman you’re with tonight—so soon after Crystal. Areyou two—“

“That’s enough,” I cut in, my voice firm.

The reporter barely has time to react before chaos erupts behind her.

A rowdy group of fans stumbles out of the hotel bar, loud and drunk, already buzzing with the high of seeing us in person.

“Luke! Oh my God, it’s Luke Sterling!” one of them calls out—a woman in a slinky dress, her voice slurred as she practically drapes herself over me. “Can I get a picture? Please? Just one?”

Before I can answer, another girl grabs my arm, her grip way too tight. “Damn, you’re even hotter in person.”

Lila takes a small step back, her expression shifting from mild discomfort to something sharper.

The third fan—clearly drunker than the rest—turns to Lila with a sneer. “And who’s this?” she slurs. “Are you his new plaything?”

Lila freezes.

My blood boils.

“Back off,” I say, my voice calm but dangerously low.

“Come party with us.” The girl laughs, eyes flicking between us like she’s enjoying the show. She turns to Lila. “What? You don’t like sharing?”

“We don’t mind sharing—do we girls?” The first girl giggles, leaning forward.

That’s it.

I move, gently but firmly untanglingmyself from their grips, and pull Lila closer, shielding her from the pandemonium.

I hear the lounge door behind us open.

“Girls,” Nate’s voice cuts through, his tone easy but warning. “I think maybe you’ve had enough for one night.”

The drunken girls pout, then huff, clearly annoyed, but they stumble back to the hotel bar.

The reporter, still lurking, leans in again. “Quite the scene, don’t you think?”

I glare at her. She smirks.

I grab Lila’s hand, not giving a damn who sees, and guide her down thehall.

The elevator feels like a sanctuary when we finally reach it. We don’t speak until the doors slide shut, trapping us in silence. Lila’s silent beside me, her face pale.

“I’m so sorry,” I start, but she shakes her head.

---