Their waiter returned to ask if they needed anything else, but they declined and departed the restaurant.
Rhys was exhausted, though the night was still young. Jules wanted to wander through the resort until they had to report for stargazing duty.
Abigail looked ready for bed. “I’m heading back to the bungalow.”
“You look pale,” Jules said.
“Gee, sis. Thanks. I’m fine. Just… hot.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’ll probably be asleep when you get back.”
Rhys and Jules walked Abigail to her room.
“Want me to come in?”
Abigail waved her away. “No. My head hurts. I’m going to bed.”
“You’re sure—”
“Stop. Go…” Abigail waved them away again. “Do whatever Sloane tells you to.”
Jules faltered, as though she’d forgotten about their plans. Her cheeks pinked, and with a twirl of her long dress, she spun around. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he followed her. Why the hell had he agreed to Sloane’s project?
She twisted her hands into the side of her skirt. He was making this uncomfortable. He didn’t know how he was doing that, but Jules Lowry could act. This was a gig. A job. A stupid assignment. She didn’t fidget on set. He hadn’t often seen her during production, but he’d seen it enough to know the woman didn’t blush and fiddle as she did now.
“Look, Jules. We can change all this. Don’t worry about it, and I’ll deal with Sloane.”
“No.” She didn’t meet his gaze. “We’ve already soft launched.”
“You can soft launch a dozen men after what happened to you. No one will fault you.”
“Have you ever looked at the gossip sites—”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I don’t have to. I don’t look at any of those things.”
She side-eyed him. “Never?”
“Never. Why would I?”
“They’ve mentioned you sometimes. Don’t you want to know?”
Heat rose up the back of his neck.
“There have been posts guessing about us for years,” she explained. “You’re not even the tiniest bit curious?”
Now he was. He’d never thought about it before. There was always speculation about anything related to her. Him? Nope. Scarlett had once told him that her fanbase had learned his name. But that was that. She didn’t say it was a security issue, and he didn’t put any energy into it. He sure as hell didn’t search for why they wanted to know who he was.
Jules pulled out her phone, tapped on it for a moment, and handed it to him.
“What is this?”
“Every hit for #Rhules.”
“What is Rhules?”
