Wesley kisses my lips one more time before leaving the room. He stops outside, chatting to Flynn before the main door closes shut.
Flynn steps inside my room. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wesley.”
I sit on the bed, tying my shoes. “You don’t talk to me. Anyway, it’s a bit more than that.”
“You’re banging him?”
“No!” I grab my cell and purse. “Why does everyone assume I’m some whore who just sleeps around?”
“Calm the fuck down. I like Wesley. He gets this crowd. Liam left?”
I fall backward onto the bed, allowing the tears to fall. “I hurt him. I didn’t mean to. Everything is so different. He says I’ve changed. I’ve become one of them.”
Flynn sits beside me smelling of stale beer. “C’mon, it’s hard. They just don’t get it. He’ll move on. You guys just weren’t on the same page despite what I said earlier. Sorry, Mills.”
My brother giving me relationship advice is odd. When did he turn into this mature man? Back home, he was the boy who sulked in his room while playing emo beats on his drum.
“You think?”
“Wesley will be good for you. The thrill-seeker to bring you out of your shell.”
“I’m not in a shell. I’ve already lived that crazy life. You were too young to remember. I’m happy this way.” I don’t sound very convincing, and if anyone can see through me, it’s my baby brother.
He laughs, slapping my knee. “You’re one step away from joining a pottery class.”
“You know, pottery students around the world will take offense to that. Wesley is different. He invited me to some event. I have to go buy a dress. I really don’t want to buy anything, I have to send some money to Mom.”
Flynn leaves the room, coming back moments later. “Here.” There are a few hundred-dollar notes in the palm of his hand.
I sit up, cautiously eyeing the pile of money. “Where did you get this from?”
“Gigs.”
“I can’t take this.” I push his hand back toward him.
“You can. It’s the least I can do for being a pain in the ass.”
“Okay.” I take the money with a thankful smile. “But just promise you’re not doing anything illegal.”
He places his hand on my head, purposely messing my hair, much to my annoyance. With the pillow by my side, I grab it and whack him with it, just like old times.
“I promise.” He winks, before walking away and singing the lyrics to Gold Digger, just to rile me up.
***
Three in the morning is by far the deadliest time of the day. My thoughts make this loop of chaos as I lay wide awake thinking about yesterday’s events.
I’m in a relationship with Wesley Rich.
That moment of elation is gone, and panic slowly seeps in.
I have so many unanswered questions.
This isn’t going to be a standard run-of-the-mill relationship. Wesley is a Hollywood superstar. Paparazzi follow his every move, which means sooner or later, I will be their target.
He also has baggage—a ton of it.
I have Mama and Flynn to think of.