Page 121 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

“You’ve been weird this week.”

I tighten my grip on Daisy’s leash as she makes a committed attempt to throw herself into a park bush like it personally invited her. “That’s not a measurable unit.”

“It is in this family,” Nina says, like she’s presenting evidence in court.

Daisy sneezes mid-lunge and nearly takes me with her.

“Great,” I mutter. “I’m being judged by both of you before midday.”

Nina smiles into the collar of her jacket. “You know I’m right.”

“I know you think you’re right, which is worse.”

Daisy finally gives up on the bush and redirects her energy toward a leaf that might be plotting something. I take a careful sip of coffee, mostly to buy time.

“Different weird,” Nina adds.

“That’s still not a unit.”

“It is when you’ve known someone your whole life.”

I glance at her. “You’re very confident for someone making things up.”

“I’m not making it up,” she says easily. “You’ve been distracted. And every time one of their names comes up, you either get moody or go weirdly quiet, and those are both suspicious reactions.”

I open my mouth.

Close it again.

Because she’s not wrong. I’ve been weird.

Which is what happens when you sleep with three complicated former rockstars and leave feeling like your life is one bad decision away from becoming a public relations nightmare.

“I’m not talking about it,” I say.

“That’s okay.”

“It’s not because I’m hiding anything.”

“Sure.”

I stop walking and look at her. “Wow. Your faith in me is inspiring.”

“It’s not about faith,” she says, calm as anything. “It’s pattern recognition.”

“That’s worse.”

She bumps my shoulder lightly as we start moving again. “You love me.”

“Debatable.”

Daisy chooses that moment to spot a squirrel and attempts to launch herself into orbit.

“Absolutely not…” I brace, coffee sloshing dangerously as she drags me two steps sideways. “Daisy, we have talked about this.”

The squirrel, predictably, survives.

Nina waits until I’ve regained control before she says, “So.”