Page 126 of Fame and Obsession

“Guys?” Ty says, grinning. “Do you have something to tell us?”

“Phoebe?” Julian arches an eyebrow in a silent question.

There’s no escaping it now. That columnist will make sure the world knows. Chloe will know. Everyone at Ralston Media will know. Hell, the bitch trying to kill me already knows.

“Is nothing you people do private?” I pout.

“Jag, you stupid motherfucker. What’ve I always told you? No glove, no love. You don’t listen for shit, do you?” Zane shakes his head and throws his leather jacket on the couch as he heads into the kitchen. Jerking the refrigerator open, he grabs a beer and pops the top, giving us both the side-eye.

Julian sits up, all but throwing me to the floor. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know damn well what it means, brother. We had this talk right on that deck out there. You fucking laughed and we toasted over it. Remember? No risk of a fuck up when you wrap up?”

I turn and eye Julian. “Oh, you did, huh?”

“Fuck, we were talking about him, Phoebe!” He runs his hand through his disheveled hair. “He fucked some random chick in the bathroom at the club.”

“Then we talked about Viv being all over your dick.” Zane smirks.

“You’re both dicks.” I stand, glaring at both of them.

“Phoebe…”

“Don’t!” I warn, walking away. “Just leave me alone for a minute. I need time to regroup.” Wisely, he remains seated as I step out on the deck to escape the overwhelming testosterone in the room.

Closing the glass door behind me, I stare out at the lawn, the chaos and upheaval making me miss my mom. I’ve spent so much time protecting myself after moving to the city, I forgot to make friends. An oversight that’s now glaringly obvious—especially now that I’m pregnant.

With my mom gone, who’ll give me advice? Certainly not Chloe. She’ll just give me an itemized breakdown of how much “my mistake” is going to cost her.

“They’re just being dicks, you know. They don’t mean any harm. Even Zane, believe it or not,” a voice says behind me.

Tanna. Great.

I don’t turn around. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Walking up to the railing, she leans over and peers out at the grass. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

“Thanks.”

“Planned?”

What an odd and extremely personal question. “Not in the least.”

“Oh.” The mood quickly turns awkward. She fidgets, neither of us having anything to say. Finally, she lets out a breath and turns to face me. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, don’t hurt him,” she repeats, cracking her knuckles one by one. “He’s special. He can be a dick sometimes and act totally irrational. Sometimes, he even makes you want to kick his ass. But he’s a good person, and he cares about you. I’m telling you not to hurt him.”

“I’d never hurt Julian on purpose.” I can’t stop staring at her. Why won’t she blink? I’ve counted at least twenty seconds since her eyes have moved.

It’s freaky.

“But you have.” Biting her bottom lip, she twirls the silver pendant on her neck.

“We’ve hurt each other, but never intentionally.” Holy crap, she still hasn’t blinked. Is that normal?

“He’s been hurt a lot,” she continues as if she didn’t hear me. “He’s been hurt, like me. Losing someone is hard.”

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