Startled, I pull back, glancing over Briar’s head. Thom Petty is standing a few feet away, eyeing Matt and Kenta. He doesn’t look good; there are dark circles under his eyes, and his face is pale.
Briar’s hand stops moving as she twists to look at him, and I take the chance to grab my water glass and glug half of it down. It doesn’t do much to quench the heat under my skin.
“Hey, B,” Petty says, flashing her a weak smile.
Briar sighs, reluctantly sliding her palm off my lap. “You know, I’ve already got one stalker. I don’t really want a full collection.”
Petty shifts. “Yeah, I, uh… heard about that. Sorry.”
“How did you know she was here?” Matt barks.
Petty startles and looks at him. “I just asked the paps, man,” he says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the door. “We have a few pap contacts, they hook us up with info.”
Matt’s eyes blaze. “There’s paparazzi outside?”
“Yeah,” Petty looks confused. “Like, fifty of them. She wasn’t hard to find.”
Kenta rubs his temples. “This makes nosense,”he mumbles. “We checked the car for tracking. No one followed us.”
Briar apparently doesn’t care about the paparazzi. “What do youwant,Petty?” She snaps. “I’m kind of on a date, here.”
My face reddens.
Petty’s eyes widen. “Uh.” He turns and points at Matt, who stares back at him, his face stony. “Weren't you dating that one, last time?”
“I like to keep a few guys on retainer. I’m a massive slag, remember? Have been since I wassixteen years old.” Her voice is bitter.
He winces. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He looks around again, like he’s expecting someone to jump out of the shadows. His nervousness is making me edgy. I slip my hand under my jacket, curling my fingers around the butt of my gun.
“You wanted to talk about my childhood sexual reputation?” Briar asks flatly.
He sighs, shifting uncomfortably. “Look, can I sit?”
“No,” Matt and I say immediately.
Briar rolls her eyes. “Get him a chair.”
Kenta stands and pushes his own seat up to our table, waving for Thom to sit down. He does, with a nervous nod of thanks. Kenta waits for him to get settled, then braces his hands on the back of the chair, leaning casually over the smaller man.
Thom licks his lips, studying the white tablecloth. “I just want to apologise,” he mutters. “For what happened when we were sixteen. I’m—” He takes a deep breath, fixing his brown eyes on Briar. “I’m really, really sorry.”
For a second, Briar doesn’t say anything. Then she leans back in her chair. “You mean what youdid.”
He blinks. “What?”
“Not whathappened.That implies it wasn’t your fault.” She picks up a cherry and bites it off its stem, watching him thoughtfully. “You want to apologise for what youdid.”
“Yes,” Petty says, his voice low. “I do. I really screwed up. I want to make it right.”
“Why?” Briar demands.
He blinks. “I… I hurt you.”
“You ruined my life,” she agrees. “You were mybest friend, Thom. And you hurt me so bad, I spent years on meds and in therapy, fighting the urge to lay down in traffic. I’m surprised I got out of that shit alive.” I feel the blood drain out of my face. I’ve never heard about this. “But that apparently hasn’t bothered you for the last thirteen years. So why now?”
Petty’s cheeks flush. He looks down at his hands. Behind him, I can see Kenta gripping the back of his chair, anger pouring off him in silent waves.
“What is this about?” Briar presses. “Are your PR people trying to clean up your past? You need me to invest in your new cologne brand? IsHollywood Housedoing a reunion season, or something?”
