Page 214 of No Headlines Please

With a short laugh, Maddox replied, "Hell no. That was a byproduct. And as far as the drama, I figured it would burn out eventually."

I spoke up. "But it didn't. She wrote that book and everything."

He gave me a wry smile. "I know."

I studied his face. "So…was that the final straw? The book?"

"Nope."

"So, what was?"

His gaze locked on mine. "When those vultures started going after someone else." His eyes softened. "I cared. A lot."

And just like that, my heart went all gooey. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. What if he meant someone else – like his brother or his mom?

Boy, wouldn't that be awkward?

Especially because I'd fallen for him.

Hard.

Suddenly, I just had to know. "You don't mean…because of me?"

"Who else would I mean?" He moved closer and reached for my hand. "Delaney?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Those three simple words hit like a tidal wave, nearly knocking me off my feet. I loved him, too. I'd known for a little while, but thought of him actually falling for me was nearly too much to fathom. And now, I couldn't stop smiling. "I love you, too."

His eyes warmed. "Yeah?"

With a laugh, I fell into his arms. "Oh, yeah. Completely."

79

You Just Watch

Delaney

As the TV blared loud enough to fill the house, Maisie gave the air a tentative sniff. "Wait…is that popcorn?"

Tessa glanced toward the kitchen. "Probably."

Maisie shifted on the loveseat. "I think I'd feel guilty, you know, munching on popcorn while somebody's life spirals like that." She brightened. "Although…if there's butter, I'm not saying no."

The three of us were gathered in the living room, where we'd spent most of the day glued to the nonstop coverage of Sloane Hayworth's spectacular flameout.

Griff had called it a shitshow. Ryder had called it hilarious. Maddox had called it a problem of Sloane's own making – which, honestly, was probably the most accurate take.

By now, it had been nearly eight hours since the news broke, and the story just kept getting worse.

According to the talking heads, Sloane had staged her own disappearance to promote her new book. The original plan had been to disappear for only a week and come back with some dramatic story about locals rescuing her and nursing her back to health.

Except there were no nursing locals – except Hannah Callahan, that student nurse in Indiana, who'd spotted Sloane hitting a coffee shop in disguise. Unfortunately for Sloane, Hannah had the cellphone photos to prove it and was turning a tidy profit by selling them to all the media outlets who wanted them.

And then there were Sloane's friends from the yacht, who had already started talking, selling her out one by one to grab a little of the spotlight for themselves.