"Okay, fine. We kissed." I said it with my back to her, pulling a t-shirt over my head.
The sound that came from behind me was muffled by a pillow. When I turned around she was clutching it to her face, eyes huge over the edge.
"ANNA!" She fell back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. "This is the greatest night of my life and it didn’t even happen to me."
"I can’t fall for him, Miley."
She sat up so fast I thought she’d pull something. "The word love just came out of your mouth."
"I said fall. Not love."
"Same neighborhood. Adjacent zip codes." She pointed at me. "Also, Jace Hunter is extremely hot and I fully support whatever is happening. If I had handsome men throwing necklaces and dresses at me, I wouldn’t be sitting here in my pajamas questioning it. I would be leaning in."
"It’s not that simple."
"It is that simple. You like him. He likes you. This is not complicated, Anna. This is like a movie."
"It’s not a movie. He’s a billionaire CEO with a germ phobia and I’m his assistant who can’t afford new shoes. The gap between us is not a gap, Miley. It’s a canyon. Men like him exist in magazines and on screens. They don’t date women like me."
"Women like you? You mean beautiful, smart, talented women who happen to be temporarily broke? That’s not a category that disqualifies you from being kissed or being loved. Also, plenty of rich guys date normal people. Singers, actors, all the time. Look at Tobias Hart. The man dates regular women and he’s one of the most famous people on the planet. And by all accounts he’s genuinely a good person."
I sat on the bed, fingers closing around the edge of the mattress beside me.
Miley was still going. "I mean, his last girlfriend was a teacher or something, and he was totally normal about it, no drama, no…"
"He’s not a good person."
Miley stopped.
"Tobias Hart." My voice was stronger, bottled with something I’d never been allowed to say.
"He’s not a good person. It’s all fake. Every interview, every red carpet smile, every charity appearance. All of it. Lies."
"How would you know that?"
"Because he’s my ex!"
Miley’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. I’d never seen that happen. I didn’t think it was physically possible for Miley Torres to run out of words. She sat there on my bed staring at me and the quiet lasted long enough for me to hear the neighbor’s TV through the wall.
"Tobias Hart," I continued. "Fourteen months. In secret, because he wanted it that way. Because keeping me hidden meant keeping me controlled and I didn’t see that until it was too late."
"In secret," Miley repeated, like she was testing the words to see if they'd make more sense coming out of her own mouth. They didn't. I watched them land and break apart on her face.
"He said it was to protect me. The paparazzi, his fans, all of it. He made it sound like a favor." I pulled my knees up and pressed my arms around them. "And I believed him because I was in love with him and he was very, very good at making his choices sound like gifts."
Miley hadn't moved. Her eyes were locked on me.
"It started small. He didn't like me going out without telling him where. Then he didn't like certain friends. Then he didn't like me working late because he said the people at the gallerywere a bad influence." I stared at the candle on the nightstand. The flame held steady. My hands didn't.
"He never yelled. That's what made it so hard to see. He'd just get quiet. Disappointed. And I'd feel like I'd done something wrong, so I'd fix it. I'd cancel plans. I'd stop returning calls. I'd shrink a little more each time and tell myself it was compromise."
"Anna." Miley's voice was barely above a whisper.
"By the time I realized what was happening, I didn't have anyone left to tell. He'd cut every line without me noticing."
Miley's hand found mine. She didn't squeeze. She just held it there, steady, and waited.
"Then he hit someone with his car."
