“Thank you,” she says quietly.
“For what?”
She smiles, soft and certain. “For being someone worth blowing up my whole life for.” Doubling back, she kisses my forehead. “Would you get that? I’m going to go put on pants.”
“How about you answer the door and I go put on your pants?”
She snorts in laugher. “Eventually you’ll learn that Sage is on our side.”
“Doesn’t make her any less scary,” I mutter as I stand up, my eyes following Charlie as she disappears down the hallway to safety.
The doorbell buzzes again, but I double back to my writing pad to jot down one more note before I forget.
I love you, Charlie Riley.
I fold the note carefully, add it to the pile, and head toward the sound of voices.
Time to face the music.
chapter 26
Taio
The bathroom door is cracked open, steam curling through the gap like an invitation I’m not sure I should accept.
It’s the morning of the first Atlanta show, and Charlie has been in that bathtub for over an hour. She’s probably decompressing. Sage didn’t leave until the evening, after they’d spent six hours arguing about social media strategy. Or rather, Sage argued. Charlie just kept saying no.
No statement. No spin. No feeding the beast.
“People need to hear your side,” Sage insisted, pacing the living room like a caged animal. “Silence looks like guilt. It looks like you have something to hide.”
“I don’t have anything to hide anymore,” Charlie replied, calm as still water. “The truth is out. Taio and I are together. Grayson and I were never real. If people want to believe his version, that’s their choice.”
Sage looked at me like I might be able to talk some sense into her client, but I just shrugged. Charlie made her choice, and I’m not about to undermine it. Even if part of me wonders whether silence is really the best approach when Grayson is out therepoisoning every well he can find. The man has been relentless—new posts every few hours, each one more passive-aggressive than the last.
But Charlie’s done performing. And honestly? I think that’s the bravest thing she could do.
I push the bathroom door open slowly, announcing my presence. “Hey.”
Charlie is submerged up to her shoulders in bubbles, head tipped back against the rim of the tub, AirPods in. Her eyes are closed, but there’s nothing relaxed about her. Her jaw is tight. Her shoulders are creeping toward her ears. One hand grips the edge of the tub like she’s bracing for impact.
Whatever she’s listening to isn’t helping.
I crouch beside the tub and touch her arm gently. She startles, eyes flying open, then relaxes when she sees it’s me.
“Sorry.” She pulls out one AirPod. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
“I noticed.” I settle onto the bath mat, back against the wall, close enough to touch her if she wants but not crowding. “What are you listening to?”
“Nothing. Just white noise. Rain sounds. Trying to drown out my own thoughts.” She pulls out the other AirPod and sets them both on the edge of the tub. “It’s not working. My brain is louder than any rainstorm.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Charlie.” I say her name like a gentle push. “I can see you spiraling from here.”
She sighs, sinking deeper into the bubbles until they reach her chin. “I’m fine. I just need to get through today. The first show after is always the worst.”
