Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

“I’m sure you can figure that out,” I teased gently, hoping to lighten the mood and sway her toward my side, even if just a little.

“Well, it’s about time you showed up. I mean, seriously, how long were you planning on going without talking to her? Not even a single text? Who does that?”

I burst out laughing. “Bossy and direct. I don’t have any excuse other than the fact that I’m a complete idiot.”

“We can both agree on that. Hold on,” she warned before turning the wheel sharply to the right. We cruised through a residential neighborhood and pulled up to a house unlike anything I’d ever seen before in my life.

The large iron gates swung open as she pulled her car inside, then ground to a halt before shutting with a groan when she pressed a button on her rearview mirror.

“This is your house?” I asked.

“Mine and Ryson’s,” she said offhandedly, as if I should know who she referred to.

I followed her inside as reporters gathered outside the gate, shouting our names as cameras click away.

“Babe, that you?” a guy’s voice shouted from somewhere deeper in the house.

“No. It’s a robber,” Quinn called out with a giggle as I followed behind her, unsure where we were headed.

“Do you have him?”

I stumbled to a halt as Ryson rounded the corner, his face instantly familiar, and I wanted to smack myself for not realizing who Quinn had been referring to. Immediately, I sized him up, unsure of what was about to happen. He stood about an inch or so taller than me, but we had a similar build. If he threw the first punch, I was fairly certain I’d be able to get the next one in.

He extended his hand toward me and I automatically reached for it; a gentleman never shies away from a handshake, no matter what.

I sucked in a deep breath as we both squeezed hard enough to break the other’s fingers if we truly wanted, which made us both break out into a fit of laughter as we pulled apart. I stood there, shaking out my already swollen hand as Ryson glanced at it, noticing the bruising around the knuckles.

“You need ice,” he said with a chuckle.

“What the hell are you two laughing at?” Quinn stomped her foot, and we both straightened up.

“I’m Ryson. It’s nice to meet you, man. It’s about time you got your Southern ass out here.” He cocked a grin at me as he pulled open the freezer and tossed me an ice pack. “Beer?”

“Definitely. After the way this one drives.” I jerked my thumb in Quinn’s direction, and she snarled at me.

“Tell me about it,” he joked. “We don’t let her out of the house much.” When she smacked his head in response, he shot back, “Woman! Don’t hit me.”

“Don’t call me a bad driver. You know how hard it is to drive on PCH with those assholes trailing me like hunters,” she said with a little pout, and he leaned down to kiss the top of her nose.

I shifted my weight, feeling a little uncomfortable at the PDA since we’d all just met.

Ryson pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and popped the tops, handing me one.

I took a swig and swallowed it hard. “Thanks.”

“No problem. What happened to your hand?”

“Colin.”

“Did you hit him?” he asked, and I nodded. “I’ve always wanted to hit him. I’m so jealous.” He smacked me on the back, and I almost choked on my beer. “What’d he do?”

“Said something shitty about Paige.”

Quinn sneered. “I hate him so much.”

“Did you tell him why you kidnapped him?” Ryson brought the conversation back on track.

“I haven’t told him yet.” Quinn tried to glare at me, but I could tell she was already warming up to me. I was convinced that her boyfriend accepting me so easily might have something to do with it.