“Like what?”
“Like you,” I suggest. “Are you worried now that Billie Rae is out of rehab?” After months spent under the radar, Dorian’s equally famous ex-wife made her grand return to the social scene this week, and the internet had a field day. “Think she’ll come after you guys again?” The pop singer created trouble for them last year when she discovered they were together and Dorian had moved on from her.
Josie sighs, her gaze fixed on the same cityscape I’m pretending to study. “No, not really.”
“Not even after that song she released? ‘Lost Your Love’?”
Josie’s face pinches. She’s quiet for a long moment. “Dorian said it was Billie’s way of saying goodbye. Nothing more.”
“Was it a blow for him?” I ask.
The lyrics are heartbreaking, not angry. A one-eighty from the diss song she wrote last year about them. But it could also be a different way for Billie to poke at Dorian.
“He listened to it in private,” Josie admits. “Disappeared into his studio for a day afterward. That’s what he does when he’s upset.”
I reach out and massage her arm. “And how about you? Are you okay with it?”
Josie’s shoulders rise and fall in a heavy sigh. “Billie Rae will always be a sore point for me.” She turns to face me, her expression serious in the dim light. “She was his wife, Lily. I spent too much time despairing over that relationship, thinking it was solid, that they were forever. I’ll never be able not to be wary of her.” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I trust Dorian, so it’s okay.”
“Do they talk?” I can’t help asking. “Dorian and Billie?”
“No.” Josie shakes her head. “But he sent her his best bodyguard, Nick, the moment she got out of rehab.”
I frown. “Why would he do that?”
“He said Billie will be vulnerable after their label dropped her. That she needs someone decent around to protect her not just from stalkers but also from the vultures Hollywood is filled with.” Josie can’t mask the lingering uncertainty.
“How does that make you feel? That he’s still looking out for his ex-wife?”
Josie turns to face the view again, her fingers tracing patterns on the metal. “It hurts,” she admits quietly. “But he wouldn’t be the man I love if he washed his hands of her.” She glances at me, a small smile playing on her lips. “I love him so much because he isthatgood. He was hurt by this person, cheated on, berated, and still has enough care in him to forgive her and wish his ex to be safe and happy.”
I return her smile, warmth replacing some of the anxiety that’s been churning in my stomach. “You played a big part in his being able to move on,” I tell her. “His last song, ‘Learn to Love Again,’ is an ode to you.”
Josie smiles. “It’s an ode to anyone who has lost a great love and then found another.” She stares at me pointedly.
“Well, he’s lucky to have you, and you him,” I deflect. “Men with hearts of gold like that are rare.”
Josie bites her lip, studying me with that too-perceptive gaze that makes me feel like she’s reading my mind. “Josh seems to be one of the rare ones, too.”
My face hardens. “We’re not talking about Josh.”
“Okay. But not dating him doesn’t matter if you’re falling in love with him anyway.” Josie’s tone is gentle, but the words land like a punch to my solar plexus.
“No one is falling for anyone,” I snap. Falling for Josh terrifies me so completely I can barely breathe. “We should go back, or the others will finish the tiramisu without us.”
I push away from the railing and head for the patio, but Josie’s words follow me, echoing through the empty cavities in my body.Not dating him doesn’t matter if you’re falling in love with him anyway.The thought is a splinter beneath my skin, impossible to ignore now that she’s put it there.
The words I flung at Josie—sharp, certain, final—echo back empty. They rattle around in my head, not as solid as they should. They’re hollow.
No one is falling for anyone.
If only saying it could make it true.
22
JOSH
The air up the mountains is so clean it burns my lungs. It reminds me I’ve been breathing LA’s special cocktail of exhaust and baked concrete for too long. I take another deep breath, letting the pine-scented mountain oxygen fill my chest as I trek up the dirt trail, following the swish of Lily’s ponytail ahead of me. After three weeks of planning this camping trip, we’re in the woods near Big Bear. The forest expands around us, sunlight filters through a canopy of tree branches, and birds chirp all over. It’d be perfect if Penny wasn’t six yards behind, huffing louder with each step, sending off “Most Dramatically Exhausted Child in the Wilderness” vibes.
