Oh no, she replied.This doesn’t sound good.
It’s nothing bad.It might actually be something good. I’m just not sure yet.
I’m calling you right now.
My phone immediately rang.
“What is it?” she demanded. “What’s going on?”
I thought quickly about how much to tell her, about where to start.
“At that after-party,” I started. “Do you remember how Zain was—”
I didn’t even have to finish the sentence.
“Oh my god, did you sleep with Zain Weston that night!?” she exclaimed.
“No!” I protested. “Not that night.”
“But you have slept with him since?” she probed.
I went silent.
“I should’ve known.” Lisa made a tsking sound. “I had actually sort of suspected. You wouldn’t tell me anything, even though he had eyes only for you that night at the after-party. I knew you were being tightlipped for a reason.”
“He tracked me down to a baking class. And he asked me out on a sort of date. And he invited me to one of his music industry events. And then we had sex,” I said the words in a rush, getting them out before I could change my mind. I had no one else to talk to about this, and despite her excited squealing, Lisa seemed to be taking it well.
“So what’s with the wholeI’m not sure yetthing?” she asked. “You’re banging a rock star!”
“I’m just not sure I want to get seriously involved with someone like Zain,” I said reluctantly. “You know, the wholesex, drugs and rock ’n’ rollthing.”
Now it was Lisa who went quiet. She knew what had happened with my sister; the broad strokes, at least.
“Are you worried about something happening?” she asked softly. “Something like before?”
“Not exactly.” I weighed my words. “I just have all these warning bells ringing in my head. We went to that event, and they were serving alcohol and…”
Did I want to go airing the band’s dirty laundry? Lisa was a fan. I was sure Finn’s friends and bandmates wouldn’t want me badmouthing him to fans. All he had done was act a little stupid, after all. Was it so bad, really?
“I think it just hit too close to home,” I finished.
“I’m not going to tell you that your worries are unfounded,” she said. “Everyone’s heard stories about trashed hotel rooms and raging parties. But it sounds like Zain Weston went through all that trouble to track you down, right? And he’s invited you out on dates. It’s not just some one-night stand with a groupie. He likes you. And you like him.”
It was more of a statement than a question.
I pressed my lips together and looked at the mug of discarded coffee. The mug I’d given Zain after he’d held me all night as I slept.
The mug he’d left, still full, after I’d told him to leave.
He’d been so good to me. And I’d kicked him out. I remembered how he’d looked when he left. He had tried to hide it, but I knew he’d been hurt. He’d been upset.
And I was the one who’d made him that way.
“I’m not going to lie,” Lisa said. “I’m freaking out about the fact thatZain Westonwants you. I mean, god, he’s sexy as hell, and an amazing guitarist and rich and famous and did I mention sexy?”
“Lisa.”
“Right, sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. But I can tell you this.”