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I grinned and kissed her cheek. “I promise. Now, you go back to college and kill it. Become the video game designer you always wanted to be. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, reluctantly releasing me.
I headed into departures, going through security before flying to LA. Cash was waiting for me when I arrived, but he wasn’t alone. I frowned, looking at him before glancing through the glass doors where a bunch of photographers stood, flashing their lights.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how it happened. They’re normally here to see who’s arriving, but they’re here for you today,” Cash explained.
A shock of cold went through my system. “What do you mean?”
“I guess—I don’t know. My emails got hacked, and somebody found the plane ticket I bought you. Somehow, they put two and two together that you’re the girl who claimed Roman got you pregnant.”
I stared at Cash in horror for a moment as I processed what he was saying. Slowly, my eyes drifted to the glass again, where the photographers shouted my name. “Is this real life?”
Cash nodded. “Unfortunately. Listen, do you have a pair of sunglasses and a hat? This will cover you.” He held up a blanket he’d brought. “It’s not a perfect disguise, but at least they won’t be able to get any pictures of how far along you are, which is what people are trying to figure out. I’m going to have my lawyer get in touch with your OB back in Pleasant Lake and make him sign an NDA. That way, he can’t disclose any information about the pregnancy to reporters. I knew this was coming, but I’d hoped we had more time to prepare.”
I dug out my sunglasses and hat, putting them on. Cash wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, carefully covering my belly before grabbing my bag.
“Alright, follow me.” He nodded to a man standing not far from us, who led the way through the glass doors, pushing back the photographers with his arms and allowing Cash and me to make it out to the curb where a black SUV waited.
All around us, people were shouting questions.
“Are you pregnant with Roman’s baby?”
“Are you sure it’s Roman’s?”
“Are you doing this for the publicity?”
“Do you have any proof?”
On and on, they shouted, questioning my integrity. Cash grabbed the door, pulling it open for me when a photographer broke free, pushing his way toward us.
“Are you trying to exploit Cash since Roman denied the baby is his?” He shoved the camera in my face before Cash grabbed the lens and pushed him back.
“Fuck off!” he growled before grabbing my arm and pushing me into the car. He slid in beside me and slammed the door shut. “To my place,” he commanded before looking at me. “Are you okay?”
I probably looked stunned as I nodded slowly. “Yeah, this is—” I paused, glancing out at the sidewalk where all the paparazzi were still congregated. I chewed on my bottom lip until Cash’s hand landed on my thigh, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Yeah, it overwhelmed me at first, too. Fame springs on you overnight, so it’s a lot to deal with. You go from living your life peacefully to not being able to have a shit without somebody watching.”
This broke the tension as I laughed and looked over at him. “Please tell me that didn’t happen.”
He made a face. “Oh, yeah. He stood outside my stall door and talked to me while I was trying to go.”
A snort escaped, and I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, still giggling. “Oh, my God, that’s horrifying.”
He nodded. “Yeah, not my finest moment. But really, are you okay?”
I licked my lips. “Yeah, I guess in the back of my mind, I knew something like this was bound to happen. I’m asking for fame by telling people Roman is my baby’s father and doing it at the meet and greet … It wasn’t like there weren’t other people around who would be contracted to be silent about these things. That was my plan, you know,” I glanced at Cash, “I hoped having an audience would force him to talk to me and quiet me away somewhere where we could have a conversation. I never pictured what happened.”
Cash grunted as the car pulled into the LA traffic. “Roman is spectacularly good at avoiding things he doesn’t want to deal with.”
My eyebrow lifted. I sensed there was a story there. “Is everything okay?”
Cash had punched him a few weeks ago in the hotel room, so their friendship must be on the rocks.
Cash glanced at me. “Yeah, it looks like the studio album is on hold for now. Roman says he needs to take a couple of weeks for ‘mental health reasons,’ but I suspect you, me, and this little one—” his hand rubbed along the hump of my stomach, “have something to do with that. My guess is he’s using it as an excuse to go and drown his sorrows without justifying why he needs to drink. What better than a life-changing event.” He snorted with disapproval.
My eyes drifted out the window, watching people walk by. If only drinking away my problems were the answer. But I didn’t even have that, I only had Cash, and as I glanced at him again, I wondered what that even meant. Here he was, letting me stay with him for the week, making this a temporary situationship. But at the end of seven days, maybe Logan would be wrong, and I would be all alone.
