Page 190 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

“Willow, you’ve walked the same path so many times the grass is considering legal action.”

“That’s over the top.”

“It’s definitely an issue. I read about it online.”

“Ah, yes. The internet. Historically trustworthy.”

I glance sideways at her. “You eat anything today?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Chips.”

Daisy barrels between us at full speed, nearly taking out my knees before skidding dramatically through the flower beds.

“Your dog is a menace,” I tell her.

“She’s thriving.”

“She stole one of Gabe’s socks earlier and buried it near the koi pond.”

Willow actually grins now. “Good for her.”

For the last few days, she’s looked so overwhelmed. She’s carrying around a weight too heavy for someone who never asked to be part of this world in the first place, so seeing her smile is oxygen.

Dangerous thought.

I take a sip of my beer, and we walk quietly for a minute after that.

The compound stretches around us, warm lights beaming through the windows, music faint in the distance from the studio wing.

Usually, this place feels alive to me. Safe.

Now it feels… tense. Everyone’s bracing for impact.

Willow slows beside the fountain, leaning against the stone edge. “I hate that I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I lean beside her. “The internet?”

She nods.

“I keep telling myself not to care.” She stares down at the water. “But then I remember what people said and it’s like…” She shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.”

I know.

Better than she realizes.

I spin the guitar pick in my pocket between my fingers.

“When I was twenty-four,” I say lightly, “someone hid inside a laundry cart outside our hotel room for six hours.”

Willow blinks at me. “What?”

“Yep.”

“That cannot be real.”