Page 153 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

Despite everything, a tiny laugh escapes me.

Julian looks pleased with himself, like he just pulled something fragile back from the edge.

Redemption Falls rolls past the windows in pieces as we drive. Trees. Old fences. The curve of the road that leads away from Hawthorne House and back toward streets I understand. Houses with porch lights. Mailboxes with names I know. The ordinary world.

Except, I don’t feel ordinary anymore.

I feel like I left some version of myself back in Gabe’s office, scattered somewhere between his desk and the floor, and then walked straight into someone else’s family trauma before I could put myself back together.

Julian drives one-handed, careful with my car in a way I didn’t expect.

After a few minutes, he says, “You okay?”

I laugh once. “That’s such a wildly unfair question.”

“Yeah. I heard it after I said it.”

I look out the window. “I don’t know.”

“That’s allowed.”

“I don’t like not knowing.”

“I’ve noticed.”

I glance at him. “Have you?”

“Oh, definitely. You like solid ground. Clear rules. Exit routes.”

“That makes me sound like a paranoid raccoon.”

“A hot, paranoid raccoon.”

I stare at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been told.”

“By who?”

“Many satisfied customers.”

I roll my eyes. “Julian.”

“What? You walked into that.”

We turn onto my street.

My little house appears ahead, porch light glowing, Daisy probably inside destroying a toy with the grim determination of a tiny wolf.

Home.

Julian pulls into the driveway and turns off the engine. Neither of us moves right away.

The car is filled with the ticking sound of the cooling engine and the faint buzz of nighttime insects.

I look at him.

Bad idea.