Page 191 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

“Oh, fame is deeply unhinged.”

She stares at me in horror while I grin.

“It gets worse,” I continue. “One time a woman mailed me her own tooth.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fan mail was a weird era.”

A horrified laugh escapes her. “Julian.”

“I’m serious.”

“That’s the most upsetting thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I didn’t know what to do with it,” I admit. “So I gave it to Gabe.”

That breaks her. She doubles over laughing, one hand clutching the fountain edge. “Oh, wow.”

“He was furious.”

“You’re horrible.”

“Correct.”

Her laughter softens gradually, becoming smaller after that. But she’s still smiling, and I realize, with a kind of terrifying clarity, that I’d do pretty much anything to keep her looking that way.

The truth about people assuming I’m carefree is that eventually it becomes easier to let them. Funny guy, easy guy, no real depth beneath the surface.

It keeps things uncomplicated.

No one expects much from someone who jokes their way through everything.

But Willow sees too much. Even now I can feel her studying me.

“You’re doing it again,” she says softly.

I blink. “Doing what?”

“Deflecting.”

I point at her accusingly. “You’re becoming perceptive. I liked you better when you just insulted me.”

“I still insult you.”

“That’s true.”

The alarm explodes through the compound.

Willow jumps hard beside me.

Every muscle in my body locks instantly.

Red lights flash along the exterior walls of the house as the security system activates.

“What the hell?” Willow gasps.

And just like that, I’m twenty-six again.