Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

“You enjoyed it a little,” she teased, and when I vehemently shook my head in disagreement, she hopped up and said, “I’m grabbing a water. You need anything?”

“I’m good.” I raised my already full water glass in her direction.

“We’re going to talk about all the press and stuff in a minute, but first I’m dying to hear about Tatum and all the red he made you feel,” she shouted from the kitchen as if she were a thousand feet away.

When Quinn mentioned Tatum, my heart seized. I flashed back to the conversation where I told Quinn that Tatum made me feel in color, just like a Taylor Swift song.

“A little louder,” I called out. “I don’t think the people on the street heard you.”

“I said,” she yelled even louder, then laughed at herself as she walked back into the living room. “Sorry, I’ve been an angry wife all day on set, so there’s been a lot of raised voices.”

“Can we not talk about Tatum?” Thinking about our last night together—his lips all over my skin, his strong body on top of mine—I couldn’t handle those feelings right now in addition to everything else. I was certain that if a body could short-circuit and spark out, mine would in this instant.

Quinn plopped onto the other end of the sofa and sipped at her water, eyeing me over the rim of the glass. “But I’ve never heard you talk about someone the way you talked about him. I know you said he made you leave, but you have to know that’s some stupid machismo boy bullshit,” she deduced with little effort.

“It absolutely was. I know it was, but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Meaning?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“Meaning, I’m not interested in a guy who needs to have a defense mechanism when it comes to me when things get tough. I can’t be pushed away like that. He tried to make me feel like I didn’t matter, like what we did didn’t matter. I would have never done that to him. I could have never treated him that way.” I sat up a little straighter, my inner decisiveness shocking even me as the words spilled from my lips.

“What you did,” she repeated. “Paige Nightingale Lockwood, did you sleep with him?” Quinn’s voice rose an octave as her jaw dropped open again.

I shut my eyes for a moment and willed the burning feeling that swirled in my stomach to subside. Nodding was the only answer I could give her.

“Well, I’m proud of you. I sort of love that Colin isn’t the last guy you’ve been with.”

“Me too,” I said with a weak smile.

“But I am sorry that Tatum treated you that way,” she added, the pain in her eyes reflecting my own. “That had to be really hurtful.”

“It was. Even though I know he didn’t mean it, doesn’t mean I have to accept it or put up with it. I’m mad at him. I deserve better than that.”

I let the anger fill me; it was easier to deal with than the pain of his loss. The sadness made me feel less alive, but the anger burned with a fire that reminded me how alive I still was.

Quinn stared at me in silence, and I wondered what exactly she was thinking before she spoke up. “You’re right. You do. You absolutely do.” She reached across the couch and squeezed my hand before letting it go. “So, no more red?”

“No more red. At least, not right now.”

“That sucks. I liked the whole color thing.”

I giggled. “We can still use it for you. Quinn, what color has Ryson made you feel today?”

“I haven’t seen him since this morning, so…green,” she said, drawing out the word.

“And with that answer, we’re done playing this game.” I rolled my eyes and looked away from my best friend’s grinning face.

“All right then, let’s talk about the press. Instead of you wading through that shit online, why don’t you ask me any questions you have? I’ll fill you in on what’s been said about you in your absence.”

I sucked in a quick breath. That I could handle. “That sounds good. Okay.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said, then took a long gulp of her water. “But are you really over Tatum? I mean, just like that?”

I huffed out a small laugh. “God, no. But I can’t focus on him right now. I’ve got to do damage control on my life and my career. Help me do that first. Please?”

“I get it,” Quinn said before she filled me in on the fact that the rehab rumors had only recently started to take life. The length of time I’d been out of the public eye just happened to correspond with a normal rehab stint by someone who was serious about kicking an addiction or getting mentally healthy. There really wasn’t much that I didn’t already know, except that Colin kept aligning his name with mine.

“He says you’re fine,” Quinn said, her lips curling as if she’d tasted something bad. “He speaks on your behalf any chance he gets, and tells the world that he’s in constant contact with you.”