Page 217 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

Onscreen is a dramatic slowed-down edit of the four of us set to emotional music while comments scream crazy things:

THE TENSION???

and

I would die for this woman.

Willow groans. “Oh no, make it stop.”

“It has two million views.”

“I hate everyone.”

“Counterpoint,” I say, pointing at the screen, “the internet thinks you’re hot.”

“That has literally never improved a situation.”

She moves toward the coffee machine while Daisy trots after her hopefully.

The compound’s calmer today.

Music filters through the walls from Studio C. Someone’s laughing upstairs. A producer is arguing about drum compression somewhere down the hall.

Life goes on.

Even after public catastrophes.

Gabe walks into the kitchen mid phone call, already dressed smartly.

“Minneapolis still confirmed?” he asks me, covering the phone briefly.

“Yep.”

Willow pauses halfway through pouring coffee. “Minneapolis?”

I grin. “Funny you should mention that.”

Her eyes narrow. “I hate that face.”

“You wound me.”

“You look like a man about to create problems recreationally.”

“Not problems.” I point at her. “Adventure.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking yet.”

“I know enough.”

I lean against the counter dramatically.

“Willow Jameson,” I say solemnly, “how would you feel about accompanying me on an extremely important professional business trip?”

“Absolutely not.”

Gabe sighs softly into his coffee. “Just ask her normally.”