Page 114 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

She looks up, a small smile playing at her lips. “What are you going to say to her?”

“I have no fucking clue.” I run a hand through my hair. “But I need to see her. Need to make this right. Fix it—if I can.”

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time on the plane to figure it out, “ she says, showing me the confirmation on her phone. But you barely have time to make it to the airport. Your flight leaves in two hours.”

I nod, then pause at the door. “Emily?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For showing me those emails. For ‘not minding your own business’—for ... everything.”

She waves me off. “Just don’t screw it up this time. And Nate?”

I turn back, arching an eyebrow.

“When you see her? Lead with your heart, not your pride.”

I nod once, and then I’m out the door, taking the stairs two at a time. My phone buzzes—it’s the flight confirmation from Emily. This is crazy. Impulsive. Possibly too little, too late.

But as security flags down a taxi and I slide into the back seat, I feel more alive than I have in weeks. Because for the first time since she left, I’m not just stewing in my regret.

I’m finally doing something about it.

I just pray I’m not too late.

Thirty-Seven

Lacey

The Los Angeles heat shimmers mercilessly around me as I step out of my car and walk toward my apartment, another round of press interviews finally done. As I put my key in the lock, I’m already dreaming of a long, hot bath and—

“Lacey.”

My heart stops.

That voice. Deep, rough, achingly familiar.

I freeze, unable to turn around, unable to breathe. Because he can’t be here; he’s supposed to be in Miami with the band. He’s supposed to be...

“Look at me. Please.”

Slowly, I turn.

Nate stands there, looking devastating in worn jeans and a black t-shirt that clings to his shoulders. His hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and there’s several days’ worth of stubble on his jaw.

He looks exhausted. Beautiful. Real.

“What are you—“ My voice cracks. I try again. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a step closer, and I catch the scent of him—leather and… Nate. My traitorous heart speeds up.

“I saw the emails,” he says quietly. “About Family First. About what the exposure did for the program.”

I wrap my arms around myself as I lift my chin. “I told you I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“I know.” He moves closer still, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong, Lacey.”

“Nate—“

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