Page 204 of Rush

“‘In exclusive photos obtained by StarScene Weekly, Elena can be seen holding hands with an unidentified companion, the two leaning in close during the evening’s festivities…’”

“Unidentified?” I mutter. “He’s six-foot-four and built like a house.”

“Exactly,” Riley says, scrolling. “‘The definition of tall, dark, and delicious.’”

Well. At least they gotthatright.

I grin into my coffee.

“Sources say the pair looked like they wanted to skip the party and get a room, which”—Riley raises a brow—”is honestly generous. They didn’t know about the coat closet.”

I chuck a napkin at her. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

I sip slowly, heat curling behind my cheeks. “Does it say anything else?”

She holds out the phone, screen turned toward me. A photo. Blurry, half-obscured, but unmistakable. Me in that emerald dress. Broderick beside me. His face turned just enough to shield his identity, but our fingers are laced. My head tilted up toward him.

That look on my face.

Soft. Stupid.Seen.

“They’ll figure out who he is.”

“They always do,” Riley replies, gentler now. “But maybe it’s time?”

“Time for what?” I ask staring at the screen. At his hand in mine. The look of happiness on my face.

“Time for you to admit that maybe there’s more here than just the sex?” she says.

Was I ready to admit that—to him, to the world…to myself?

My conversation with Riley replays as Luca drives me to the airport. The sky hangs low, buildings half dissolved behind streaks of rain. I pull my coat tighter around me, sunglasses perched low—even though no one can see me in the back seat.

I can’t stop thinking about last night—how we couldn’t get enough of each other, how easy it is between us, the banter, the laughter, the sex.

How he peppered kisses along my shoulder, one for every day we’d be apart, before he left

My phone rings.

Kylie.

I sigh and answer, “Hey.”

“Don’theyme,” she snaps. “Is there a reason I’m waking up to a headline about you and some mystery man at the gala?”

I stare out the window. “Do I really have to divulge every detail of my life to you?”

“Only when it comes to protecting you and your image.”

“Right. And I feel like a songbird in a gilded cage.”

“Elegant metaphor. Love that for you. But with the shit Alex is pulling on social media, and now this—thelastthing we need is another wild love-triangle to derail things. Not happening. Not again.”

“I’m not planning aPeopleexclusive,” I mutter. “We’re not even—” I stop myself.

Kylie exhales like she’s been holding in an entire monologue.