Page 19 of Second to None

“What?” I asked.

“One of the fan accounts posted more pictures.”

“From yesterday?” I locked my phone, having successfully reassured my mum that yes, we were alive, and no, neither Emily nor I had been at risk of drowning at any point since we’d arrived. No matter how many continents I set foot on, certain things I would never outgrow.

“Yeah. Different ones, though.” Mason angled his screen so I could see it, colours darkened by the sunshine washing over his terrace. I’d have to wake Emily in just a bit—with rehearsals starting tomorrow, today was our best bet for visiting Disneyland. Although in hindsight, it might have been smarter to do it before alerting our fans to my presence.

Then the picture registered.

Cass and I in the water, so close we looked a breath away from a kiss—the angle, mostly. It was a bit grainy, likely taken with someone’s phone, and maybe it would have faded into obscurity if not for how the name of the yacht showed in the background, easily linking it to the pap shots.

“Swipe right,” Mason said.

I did, and there were more pictures—one of the other lads, one of Cass and me rejoining them, then all of us back on the boat with Jace’s back tattoo easily recognisable, a boldly shaded storm cloud with rays of sun breaking through. Not ideal, but not too incriminating either.

“It’s not too bad, is it?” I asked, glancing up at Mason.

“Bad?” he echoed.

“As in, you know.” I spread my hands. “The picture of Cass and me would have meant a whole load of damage control back then. But I guess there’s a bit more leeway now.”

When the rumours about us were at their fiercest, even small slip-ups had triggered a flurry of activity. No denial, nothing that obvious, but Cass would hit some fashion show and hug a few models while my fake girlfriend would fly out for some lovey-dovey pictures. I’d resented the situation but luckily not her—I was doing my job and so was she.

Well, that ship had sailed, what with how I was out to anyone who cared to dig a little. But with Cass in the picture—literally? I’d better steel myself in case he showed up with some pretty woman on his arm.

Also, none of my business. I’d long since lost my claim on him.

“A bit more leeway,” Mason echoed flatly. He set his phone aside, abandoning his cereal in favour of weighing me like an auction item he might want to bid on. “I thought you and Cass had a chat?”

“We did, yeah.” I hadn’t shared any details with Mason—hard to explain why Cass would apologise when we’d always declared our breakup a mutual decision.

“Seems there’s stuff you haven’t covered,” Mason said.

“Like Emily, yeah.” I sighed. “It felt right at the time—we hadn’t talked for three years. But now? Fuck, Mason. I think he’ll be hurt that I didn’t tell him.”

“Yeah,” Mason said, “he will be.” No sugarcoating, and I appreciated and resented it in equal measures. “But that’s not actually what I meant.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So you meant… what?”

Mason’s phone lit up. He glanced down at the screen, then back at me. “Why don’t you ask Cass if there are things he hasn’t told you yet?”

“Ominous.”

Mason shrugged. “Well, hey. He’s here, so?—”

“He’s here?” I cut in. Shit. I was unshaven, clad in boxers and a ratty sleep T-shirt that might have belonged to Ellis at some point. Not that Cass hadn’t seen me looking worse, but… not since then.

“Yup. Just entered his code for the gate.” Mason’s smile was beatific. Oh, the little shit.

“What’s he doing here?”

“How would I know? Ask him.”

“You are supremely unhelpful.”

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