Page 241 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

“You should wear green more often,” he says roughly.

My stomach flips. Traitorous thing.

The Lamb is warm against the dark evening, golden light spilling through the windows onto the wet street outside.

The last time I came here with Xander, I ended up stomping out the door to escape women throwing themselves at him.

Tonight feels completely different. Maybe because I’m not alone.

Julian keeps his hand at the small of my back as we walk inside while Gabe stays close beside me.

And Xander walks ahead like he’s daring the entire world to become a problem tonight.

Heads still turn when we enter. Whispers follow almost immediately. But somehow, it doesn’t hit the same. Not with all three of them around me.

Martha Callahan looks up from behind the hostess stand and grins. “Well. This is either a date or a kidnapping situation.”

“Still determining that,” I tell her.

Julian gasps. “After all I’ve done for you.”

“You made grilled cheese.”

“Professionally!”

Martha laughs, leading us toward a private corner booth near the back. As we sit, I notice people staring less at me tonight. Or, at least, that’s how it feels.

The conversation comes easy.

Julian tells ridiculous stories about touring disasters. Gabe argues with Martha about wine pairings like he secretly enjoys being challenged. Xander mostly watches all of us with that quieter expression he’s had since he got back. And every now and then, I catch him looking at me like he’s relieved I’m here. Like maybe he wasn’t entirely sure I still would be.

The warmth in my chest at that realization feels dangerous.

Dinner arrives. Drinks follow, and I actually start relaxing.

Then the front door opens and my stomach drops.

Caitlyn West.

The tabloid writer spots us almost instantly, excitement lighting up her face like she just found buried treasure.

“Oh, wow,” Julian mutters. “Does she have bat-like hearing for scandal?”

“She probably smelled emotional instability,” Gabe says dryly.

Caitlyn’s already crossing the restaurant before I can decide whether I want to hide under the table.

Her phone’s in her hand.

Recording.

Fantastic.

“Well,” she says brightly as she reaches us. “This is cozy.”

Xander doesn’t even look up from his whiskey. “Go away.”

Her smile twitches. “The public is very interested in⁠—”