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First thing she noticed when Julius entered was the position of his hat. The brim was pulled low over his eyes in a ticked-off, don’t-mess-with-me vibe. In one hand he carried a computer tablet. In the other, her morning cup of peppermint tea.
As he strode toward the bed, she reached out to take the cup. She had no clue when the daily ritual of Julius bringing her tea had started, only that he kept it up and she looked forward to it each morning.
His dark brown eyes fixed on her face. “Mornin’, Avalynn.”
She curled her fingers around the mug and brought it to her lips. “Hi, Julius. What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer her right away. He walked to the corner of her suite and dragged an armless chair over to the bed. The chair didn’t suit a big, masculine guy. As he dropped to the seat, she studied the set of his jaw.
Reading him this morning wasn’t so easy. Whatever was wrong, the firm line of his lips told her that he wasn’t ready to tell her, either.
With the tablet still gripped in one rough hand, he waited for her to lower her teacup before speaking.
“There’s a sex tape.”
His words didn’t immediately register. Her gaze met his. The very serious expression he wore drove those four words home.
She moved to set the cup on the nightstand. Tea sloshed over the side. She whipped back the covers. The T-shirt she slept in was long enough to provide enough modesty when she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Julius watched her with the same intensity he always did. Only this time, something moved in his eyes.
Worry.
Perched on the side of her bed, she stared at him. “A sex tape,” she repeated.
He nodded.
Her stomach bottomed out and her heart gave a painful squeeze. “Of me?”
He nodded again.
Her lips popped open on a gasp. How? When? With whom? There was no way she had a sex tape. The sweetheart of country music didn’t have sex, let alone film herself in the act.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Julius shifted forward in his seat. Close enough to reach out and lay a hand over hers. “A sex tape of you was leaked to the media late last night.”
She blinked at him, wishing he’d push his hat back so she could see his eyes better. “How?”
He shook his head. “The FBI’s looking into it. Tracing the path of the tape.”
“A physical tape recording? Of me?”
“Yes.”
Searing pain sliced through her chest. “There’s no way,” she whispered. “I…” All of a sudden, the cracks in her dam whose holes she always plugged whenever it came to rumors about her, burst. Tears spilled out, and she buried her face in her hands.
“Avalynn. I’m so sorry.” His soft, crooning voice didn’t offer the fix she needed. The water was flowing now, and there was no stopping it.
Her shoulders shook with a sob. “I can’t have a sex tape! I’m the sweetheart of country!”
“I know, honey.”
She dropped her hands and stared at him. Tears streamed down her face, and she was starting to form a snot bubble. “Do you understand this is going to ruin my career? I’m in the middle of the biggest tour of the summer! I’ve had sold-out venues for the last six months!”
He got up and walked into the bathroom. A cry broke from her, and then another. When Julius’s cowboy boots appeared in front of her vision, she stuck out her hand, and he pressed a handful of tissues into it.
She mopped at her face and blew her nose. He held out a wastebasket next, and she dropped the destroyed tissues into it. He passed her some new ones.
