Warmth spreads through my chest, slow and stunned. “Yeah? I was scared it sounded… weird.”
“It sounds likeyou.Not Rebel June. You.”
I swallow.
“Good,” I whisper. “Because that’s who I want to be now. Lucky Vale. I think I want to stay up here indefinitely. Work on the new music. Let Lucky Pinkrest in peace.”
Another long silence.
Then Banks exhales, defeated but proud.
“Wow.Lumberjack Manmust have had one hell of an influence on you.”
I snort. “I like him. A lot. Maybe he inspired me. Maybe he sprinkled some fairy dust on me.”
Banks wheezes.
“Yeah, I’m sureLumberjack Manwould be thrilled to hear he’s a fairy.”
“He’s not a fairy,” I laugh. “More like a… stoic, emotionally constipated, sexy murder-wolf who fixes things whenever he feels feelings.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“Shut up.”
Banks’s voice softens. “I’m glad you’re happy, Lu.”
I blink at the window. Morning sun. A peaceful lake. A hopeful chest.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’ve got the man… and I’ve got my music. What the hell else would I wish for?”
“Well, don’t get too poetic on me. I’m fragile.” His tone shifts. “Check in every so often, alright? For my heart’s sake.”
“I will.”
“I’m turning around. Going back to L.A., talking to a legal team. And Lu?”
“Yeah?”
“Get a new number. Jett’s relentless about your whereabouts. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague.”
I roll my eyes so hard they click. “Great. Add him to the list of men who don’t know how to emotionally regulate.”
Banks chuckles. “Talk soon, Lu.”
“Yeah. Soon.”
I end the call with Banks, and turn around—
—and nearly scream.
Ethan’s leaning against the doorframe in nothing but his boxers, arms folded, smirk firmly carved into his annoyingly perfect face.
“Jesus, Ethan,” I gasp, hand flying to my chest. “How long have you been standing there?”
He tilts his head, totally unbothered. “Long enough. So…Lumberjack man?”
I groan, my cheeks heating. “It’s no one special.”
