Page 57 of She's the Star

“Excellent. How do you feel about gnocchi?”

“Extremely favorable.” We start debating what to get and the rest of our date is lighthearted and fun.

TWENTY-TWO

AMBER

The next week, we’re in Dallas when Teddy barrels onto the stage in the middle of my afternoon sound check.

“You’re going to kill me,” he says, gripping his side and breathing heavily. Two of the arena’s security guards skid to a stop behind him.

“Ms. Hope, I’m so sorry,” the shorter one says. “We told him he couldn’t come in, but he surprised us and took off at a run.”

The taller one wrings his hands while trying to catch his breath. “He knew where he was going, and he’s fast. I’m really sorry.” He grabs one of Teddy’s arms. “We’ll get rid of him. Please don’t let them fire us.”

“Relax. No one is getting fired,” I assure them.

I’m annoyed, but not with them. I glare at Teddy. Why is he crashing my rehearsal? Is it impossible for him to avoid wreaking havoc in my life?

Brian hurries over, steps in front of them, and frees Teddy. “We’re used to Teddy’s tendency to do whatever the hell he wants. We can handle things from here.”

Teddy winces but doesn’t apologize as Brian glares at him and ushers the two security guards away. One of my own security members steps forward and crosses his arms.

“Can I speak with you?” Teddy pleads with desperation.

He hasn’t been answering my calls since he barreled into the hotel last week. Brian has been in contact with his manager, and has been monitoring Teddy’s shows, which thankfully don’t seem as dire as Teddy made them sound. The fans appear to be enjoying themselves, and the press has been overwhelmingly positive thus far.

I turn to everyone who’s on stage. “Let’s take a break.”

They start to disperse with nary a comment. I catch a few eye rolls, and I’m sure the gossip backstage will be intense, but most of them remember when Teddy and I were dating so they aren’t surprised by his drama.

He chews on his fingernail as the stage empties. “Can we go somewhere private?”

I nod and lead him to my dressing room where Mina greets us with wide eyes. I’m still more annoyed than worried when I tell her, “We need a minute.”

She hesitates and then reluctantly trudges out of the room.

“Well?” I put my hands on my hips.

“You’re going to kill me,” he repeats.

“Teddy.” I sigh. “If I didn’t kill you when I found you with your dick in someone else, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to kill you now.”

He fidgets with the zipper on his jacket. “This is worse than that.”

What could be worse than him humiliating me publicly during our joint tour? I tap my foot as I wait for him to speak.

His face contorts. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“What did you do?” I ask sharply, losing patience.

He keeps his focus trained on the stupid zipper.

“Teddy. Answer me.”

His arrival was so dramatic that I assumed it was just another stunt, but now I’m legitimately worried as he squeezes his eyes shut like it’ll be easier to tell me if he doesn’t have to see me. “I was talking to Annabelle Singer, and I might have told her that we’re not getting back together.”

Annabelle is a sports reporter who is exceptionally good at questioning athletes until they reveal their biggest regrets, fears, and mistakes, but she’s never shown any interest in me other than asking Slater a few questions about our friendship and I don’t have a problem with her telling the world that Teddy and I are over.

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