I didn’t flinch. "Yeah." I looked down at my hands. "I needed to close something, or at least stop reopening it."
"And?"
"I think I finally did."
He exhaled. "Good."
Hesitantly, I rested my head on his shoulder. He didn’t move for a long time, then he reached over and laced our fingers together.
Somehow, I ended up at his house. I hadn’t planned to stay over. I borrowed one of his t-shirts and curled up on the couch, smelling of sweat and music.
When he pulled a blanket over us and settled behind me, it felt like I belonged there. I let myself believe it. I ignored all the screaming alarms as I settled against him and closed my eyes. I was half-awake, head on his chest, when the buzz of his phone broke through the stillness.
"Shit."
I blinked up at him. "What?"
Asher sat up, already typing. "Vanessa. Twice. My publicist. My agent."
"What happened?"
He opened his email, and I watched his jaw tighten. "They want a statement about us."
Frowning, I sat up, staring at him. "About what?"
He turned the screen to me.
Sullivan Masters’ Ex In Hot Club Affair With Rival Star - Breaks Her Silencein Private Call.
I stared at it, stunned.
"There’s a quote from his camp. Someone’s decided to spin your call like a betrayal. You know how drama sells."
My throat went dry.
"Did you say anything to him that could be twisted?"
"I don’t know. I didn’t think it mattered."
His jaw clenched. "It shouldn’t, but they’re going to make it matter."
I stood up, beginning to pace. "This is exactly what I didn’t want. This is why I never wanted to do this in the open."
His voice was calm, but firm. "So what are you saying?"
My throat tightened. "I’m saying I don’t know if I can do this, under a microscope with strangers dissecting every glance and every word I say."
He didn’t speak right away.
"I thought I could handle the attention," I continued, pacing now, trying to outrun the weight of what I was saying. "I’ve done it before, but this feels different. They’re trying to turn me into a version of myself I’ve worked so hard to bury."
I stopped moving and looked at him. "I need space."
"From me?"
I shook my head, but it didn’t make what I was saying any easier. "I need space from everything, especially the spotlight, and this version of me the world keeps tryingto write without asking who I actually am." My voice cracked, but I didn’t stop. "I can’t lose myself again. I barely survived it the first time."
Asher looked like I’d peeled back something raw, something he didn’t know how to put back, and yet, he nodded.