“And where is here?”
“None of your business,” I huff out. Though, technically, he’s my boss. And I have his dog. So, it is his business. I soften, just a little. “I need this night away, Ryder. Give me that.”
He’s silent. “I…I worry about you.”
“I know. Like you would worry about an annoying little sister.” There’s a brittle edge to my voice now. “Well, I can’t come home because I’m about to get laid.”
Taylor chokes on his tea.
“Daisy,” Ryder growls. “It’s a good thing I can tell when you’re lying.”
“Or what?” I taunt. But some of the fight leaves me. “Fine. I’m at Taylor’s,” I admit. “And you already know I’m not his type,” I admit. “So no one is getting laid. But I’m not ready to come back. Not yet.”
I need the night to shore up my defenses.
“Take the night,” he finally says. “But I need you to message me Taylor’s address.Please. And tomorrow morning, we’re going to talk. This video changes things. My fans have calmed down from my Future Shock days, but I have some stalkers who are dangerous. I don’t want you wandering around without me or security. This is a small town. Anyone could find you.”
“I’m a big girl. I’ve been living on my own for years.”
“Daisy, don’t make me go down to Ed’s and ask every person there where Taylor lives. Do you want to add that to our video compilation too?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“And you callmea pain in the ass. Taylor lives above his shop, Closet Dreams. You can look it up,” I snap. “Archie and I will be back in the morning.”
“Promise?” Ryder asks. Sometimes I hate he knows me so well, even after all this time. Or maybe because of all this time. He knows I don’t go back on promises.
“Promise.”
“Good,” he grunts. “See you in the morning. And, Daisy…?”
“What?”
“Just… Sleep well. It will all be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
After I hang up the phone with Ryder, Chase calls. Taylor makes up the couch for me while I talk to my foster brother. I calm him down as best as I can and try to convince him to back off. He agrees to be patient for a little while, but only because he says that his PR company and Ryder’s are coming up with a plan.
When I’ve finally gotten my overprotective brother off the phone, Taylor and I spend the rest of the night doing face masks and taking turns imagining the type of fashion empire we would build if the world—and we—had no limits. Basically, doing everything but discussing my new life as an internet sensation.
“Good night,my love,” Taylor says before flicking out the light and plunging the room into darkness, except for the moon shining in through the large window.
“Good night, Taylor. And thanks.”
“Oh honey, thankyou. This is the most fun, drama, and intrigue I’ve had in years. And I can’t believe I was in the room with you while you were talking totheChase James. He’s so tall, dark, and delicious.”
“Nooo. I don’t want to hear that. He’s mybrother,” I say with a laugh.
The next morning, I wake to light streaming in and the deep blue of the Atlantic. I feel better after a giant glass of water and two pain relievers that Taylor hands me.
I attempt to do something with my wild hair and borrow an extra-large white button-down—linen, of course—from my friend’s closet. I turn it into a mini dress with one of his belts.I’m rocking the outfit, feeling very vintage-era eighties, slicking on red lipstick I have in my purse. I’m hungover and have puffy eyes from silently crying into my pillow, but I don’t look half bad. The red looks good with my blue eyes and tan.
“Not too shabby for a girl who has to do the walk of shame, even though there were no shameful shenanigans, sadly,” I say to the mirror.
Taylor pops his head into the open door of the bathroom. “Babe. I’m out of milk, so I’m going to the Café Corner to get two cappuccinos for us. And I’ll take the dogs to give them a quick walk.”
“Oodles of sugar for me,” I instruct. “Or if they have syrup, then three pumps of caramel.”
