Page 119 of Coast

“I couldn’t help but notice his devastatingly good looks.”

“He’s alright. For a suit.”

“He’semployed.”

“I’m aware. I’m footing the bill.”

“He has a sprawling house.”

“It’s a little cold for my taste.”

“It has a great pool.”

“I prefer a darker liner.”

“He loves his daughter.”

To that, she had to soften a little.

“She’s a sweetheart. My girls adore her.”

“He looks at you like you’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.”

“Oh, stop,” she said, waving me off.

“Weren’t you the one rooting for me with Coast and Tasha with Carter?” I asked.

“Yes, but that’s different.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. It just was.”

“Not every man is like your ex.”

“I know that. But I just got my life in order. I don’t need another man messing it up again. You know how bad my taste is in men.”

“I get wanting your independence.”

I mean, after all, I was starting up my dance videos again.

Zo3.0 was definitely getting views. Enough of them, in fact, that my own asshole ex came crawling out of the woodwork, trying to say he was going to sue me.

I wish I could have captured the face he made when I showed up at his house with my lawyer to remind him that he owned my old profile, not me. Not my name. Not freaking dance videos as a whole.

He was in a spiral because that Sadie girl I’d seen at his house when I went over for help had done a fifteen-part video exposé of Travis and his abuse, both professionally and personally.

I didn’t think the negative press would last. Cockroaches survived everything.

But Coast made sure that we had all our stuff in sealed containers. And bug spray at the ready.

And, let’s face it, if Travis ever tried anything crazy—like taking my baby from me—Coast would do anything necessary to stop it.

“I mean, I am doing these silly videos so I have an audience to reach out to when I open my studio,” I told Brooke. “I want something of my own. But even so, it’s nice to have a man to come home to, to help share the load, to curl up with at night.”

“God, I miss sex,” Brooke said, exhaling hard, gaze far away. “I didn’t get three babies fromnotenjoying getting knocked into the headboard.”

“God, I love you, Brooke,” I said, beaming at her.

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