Page 7 of My Three Billionaire Rockstars

I stop before I make it worse, because smearing napkins across an expensive jacket while I panic is somehow not going to improve this situation.

I pull my hands back so fast it’s like I touched a hot stove.

“I’m really sorry,” I say again. “I’ll pay to have the jacket cleaned. Whatever it costs. I mean it.”

Which is going to hurt.

A lot.

There goes the money I was trying to set aside.

Maybe there goes food that isn’t ramen for the next two weeks, too.

Gabe moves first, grabbing extra napkins and handing them over, while Julian looks like he’s trying so hard not to laugh that it’s actually making me angrier.

Which is unfair, probably, but I’m humiliated and standing in the middle of my own public execution, so I don’t feel especially committed to fairness right now.

Xander slides out of the booth and stands. The scrape of his fancy shoes against the floor sounds absurdly loud in the silence. He shrugs off the jacket, then holds it out to me.

I take it automatically, clutching the clean part of it against me like it might explode.

“I’ll have it cleaned,” I say quickly. “I promise. Somewhere good. Not just the cheap place on Main. Unless that’s where you want it done, I mean, but I can find somewhere else, I just…”

I stop because I’m rambling, which means I’m panicking, and I know that. Worse, I know he knows that.

And the man has the nerve to look at me like this is the most interesting thing that’s happened to him all week.

“It’s fine,” he says.

It isn’t fine.

“It’s really not,” I tell him. “I just committed aggravated breakfast assault.”

That does it.

Julian laughs. Actually laughs, full and unhelpful. Gabe shakes his head, smiling into his hand.

Xander never takes his eyes off me. “It’s a jacket.”

“It’s a very expensive jacket.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I absolutely do.”

Nothing happens. Then the corner of his mouth lifts, just slightly, and I understand with sudden, inconvenient clarity why women probably do stupid things around him. That expression isn’t even a full smile, but it still hits like a problem.

“I’m still having it cleaned,” I say, tightening my grip on the jacket. “That part isn’t optional.”

He looks at me for another long second before finally nodding. “Alright.”

I exhale so hard my shoulders drop with it. “Thank you.” Then I look down at the disaster on the table and feel a fresh wave of mortification. “I’ll get you another meal. On the house.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Gabe says smoothly.

“It is necessary,” I shoot back. “Because I just ruined his.”

Julian leans back against the booth, still far too entertained by all of this. “For what it’s worth, I was enjoying the show.”