My favorite movie star on the entire planet.
The man whose movies I can recite by heart.
Number one on myfreebie listthat I only mentioned one time to Chandler, who got so offended at the joke—who actually meets their number one celebrity crush?—that I didn’t even tell Sabrina and Laney that I’d made a list. And the three of us don’t—didn’t—dammit.
Apparently wedokeep secrets from each other. If we truly didn’t, I would’ve known what Chandler did to Theoyearsago, and I wouldn’t be the world’s most notorious runaway bride right now.
But more important in this exact moment?
Jonas Rutherford ishere.
Moaning and grabbing his head on the porch of the tropical villa where I’m hiding from the entire world.
Nope.
Nope nope nope. This isn’t real.
I flip the lights off again.
This is a job for resort security. Not for me.
“I thought we were happy,” the man who looks and sounds like Jonas Rutherford, but cannot possiblybeJonas Rutherford, says outside.
And my stupid, vulnerable, gullible heart wells up and sheds a tear for the sadness in his voice.
Ifthat’s really Jonas Rutherford, and not some reporter dressed up to look and act like him in some elaborate scheme to get to me—paranoia is my new BFF—then I know what he’s talking about.
You basically can’t get on the internet without seeing the viral video of my failed wedding right next to the reports that Jonas’s movie star wife left him mere months after their wedding last summer, and that their divorce was recently finalized.
And now public.
Withallllllof the details that mean this man shouldnotbe on myfreebie list.
“Crap,” he mutters.
Crap.
Like that’s the worst curse word he knows for waking up hungover on a porch after someone tripped over him.
And does he even know I’m here? Does he realize he wasn’t alone?
There’s a shuffling on the other side of my door, and then the glass door rattles.
My heart freezes in my chest.
What is hedoing?
The lock holds though.
“Are you freaking kidding?” he mutters.
The door rattles again but doesn’t budge.
He groans, mutters, “Forget this,” and then all goes quiet.
I peer into the darkness.
Can’t see a thing, and pre-dawn is when I most like taking the short path down to the beach. I’m hardlyJonas Rutherfordfamous, and thisisa gated resort with limited other guests in the half dozen or so other villas, but I still felt like I got funny looks my second day here.
