Willow
THIRTY-THREE
It turns out emotional breakdowns are just as unglamorous in mansions.
Who knew.
I stand barefoot in one of the giant guest bathrooms at Hawthorne House at two in the morning staring at my reflection like she is a stranger.
I look awful.
My hair is a mess, my eyes are swollen, and I’m wearing one of Xander’s shirts because somewhere between the panic attack in the kitchen and Daisy refusing to settle down unless she sat directly on top of me, I lost ownership of my own clothing.
The shirt smells like him, too. Which feels manipulative at this point.
I splash cold water over my face and regret looking at my phone again.
I do it anyway.
Obviously. Like a complete idiot.
Even after everyone told me not to.
I grip the marble counter hard and squeeze my eyes shut.
Why her?
That one keeps replaying in my head, not because it’s the cruelest comment—the internet has managed much worse—but because it’s the one that hit the deepest.
Why her?
Like I’m some confusing mistake. Like I couldn’t possibly be enough for men like them.
I know I shouldn’t care. I know strangers online don’t know me. But that’s the thing about insecurities. They don’t have to be rational to hurt.
A knock sounds softly against the bathroom door. “You alive in there?”
Julian.
I exhale shakily. “Debatable.”
The door opens, and his dark head appears around it.
His expression softens when he sees me. “Hey.”
“I look like I got hit by a truck.”
“Nah,” he says easily. “More like emotionally hunted for sport.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
“You should sleep,” he says gently.
“You should mind your business.”
“I would if you weren’t currently my business.”
Why do they all say things like that?
I lean back against the counter. “Is everyone else asleep?”
Julian makes a face. “Xander’s pretending to work, Gabe’s pretending not to stress, and I’m pretending I wasn’t absolutely about to steal the emergency cheesecake from the kitchen.”
Despite everything, my mouth twitches.
Julian steps fully into the bathroom then, leaning one shoulder against the doorway casually.
The tension between us still feels strange now. Everything feels heavier. Especially knowing they’ve all seen the comments too, seen people tear me apart, seen the comparisons.
I fold my arms tightly over myself without thinking.
Julian’s expression changes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Willow.”
I look away.
Big mistake. Because Julian might seem carefree, but he notices everything when it matters.
His voice softens. “You read more of it, didn’t you?”
Silence answers for me.
He sighs and steps closer. “I told you not to.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I enjoy suffering.”
“That’s Xander’s thing, sweetheart.”
Another reluctant laugh. Then tears burn behind my eyes again because my emotions have fully unionized against me now.
Julian’s smile disappears. “Oh, honey.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re crying in a bathroom at two in the morning wearing another man’s shirt.”
“Okay, rude.”
He reaches for me carefully, giving me enough space to pull away if I want to.
I don’t.
His hands settle lightly on my arms. “People online are insane,” he says. “You know that, right?”
“They’re not completely wrong.”
His entire expression hardens. “Don’t.”
I shrug weakly. “Look at you guys.”
“What about us?”
I laugh. “You’re all ridiculously attractive former rockstars who could literally have anyone.”
“And?”
“And I’m…”
I stop.
Because saying it out loud feels worse somehow.
Julian waits.
I stare at the floor. “I’m just me.”
Silence.
Then his fingers tighten against my arms.
“Willow Jameson,” he says, “do you genuinely think we’re all sitting around losing our minds over you for no reason?”
Heat rushes into my face. “That’s not what I—”
“You think this is about convenience?” he cuts in softly. “Or sex?”
I don’t answer. But part of me does think that. Or, at least, part of me worries it.
Julian exhales. Then he tips my chin upward gently until I’m forced to look at him. “You have absolutely no idea what you do to us, do you?”
The sincerity in his voice almost hurts.
Before I can answer, movement appears behind him.
Xander pauses in the doorway when he sees us.
His gaze moves over me. Taking in the tears, the oversized shirt, Julian touching me. Everything in him tightens.
“You good?” he asks.
No.
Not even remotely.
But I nod anyway because lying about my feelings is still one of my favorite hobbies.
Xander watches me for a long second like he knows exactly how false that answer is.
Then his eyes flick toward my phone sitting face down on the counter. “Read the comments again?”
I hate how easily he reads me.
I look away.
His jaw flexes once. “Jeez, Willow.”
“What?” I snap, emotion finally spilling over. “You guys are used to this!”
Silence slams into the room.
Julian steps back. Xander goes completely still.
“I’m not,” I continue shakily. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to wake up and have thousands of strangers talking about my body and my life and… and…”
My voice cracks.
Humiliating.
“I’ve spent my whole life trying not to take up too much space,” I whisper. “And now everyone’s looking at me.”
The confession hangs there. Too honest, too vulnerable.
Xander’s expression shifts. Like he just broke a little. “Come here.”
The words come out rough. Instinctive.
I should probably say no. Instead, I walk directly into him like an idiot.
His arms wrap around me, solid and warm enough that my entire body shakes once in response.
I’m so tired.
Xander rests his chin lightly against the top of my head. “You listen to me carefully,” he says. “None of those people know a fucking thing about you.”
“But—”
“No.”
The single word cuts straight through me.
His hand slides up and down my back.
“You’re not embarrassing,” he murmurs. “You’re not temporary. And you sure as hell aren’t something any of us settled for.”
Emotion climbs hard into my throat, because he sounds angry about it, like the idea itself offends him.
Julian leans back against the counter beside us with a softer expression now. “He’s right, you know.”
I close my eyes tightly. “I hate this.”
“We know,” Julian says.
Daisy trots into the bathroom carrying one of Gabe’s shoes in her mouth like a prize.
The tension shatters.
Julian bursts out laughing. “Oh wow, she robbed him again.”
Even Xander huffs a laugh against my hair.
I pull back enough to stare at the dog. “Daisy, what’s wrong with you?”
She drops the shoe proudly at my feet and wags her tail like she just solved world hunger.
“She’s having the time of her life here,” Julian says.
Daisy loves the compound. The sprawling grounds, the trails, the endless people willing to throw tennis balls for her at all hours.
Earlier she stole one of the sound engineers’ sandwiches and escaped across the lawn like a tiny criminal mastermind while three grown men chased her.
It was the first time I laughed all day.
Everything in my life is imploding and my dog is thriving.
I eventually escape back to my room before things between the guys and me get even more complicated. Not that it helps.
The second I’m alone again, my thoughts spiral right back into ugly places.
I curl up on the massive bed beside Daisy and grab my phone again despite knowing better. Instead of social media, I open my texts with Nina.
Willow: Are you awake?
Nina: Obviously.
Willow: I think I ruined my entire life.
Nina: Dramatic.
Willow: Nina.
Nina: Willow. You didn’t ruin your life. You accidentally became internet famous for being hot and confusing.
Willow: I’m serious.
Nina: I know. And I’m serious too.
Willow: People hate me.
Nina: Some people. Other people are literally making edits of you walking in slow motion.
Willow: THAT ISN’T BETTER.
Nina: Okay, fair.
I stare at the screen, chewing hard on my bottom lip.
Willow: Do you think they’re embarrassed of me?
Nina: Willow, those men look at you like they’d set the world on fire if you asked nicely.
Willow: That sounds unhealthy.
Nina: Probably. Still romantic, though.
A fresh wave of happiness hits me unexpectedly hard.
Because despite everything, a small, horrible part of me still wants to believe her.