24. BACK THEN – April
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
WILLOW MOORE
S omeone is following me.
I know I sound paranoid, and maybe it’s because of the intense paparazzi onslaughts recently.
Cameramen wait for me to leave Superheroes & Scones every single shift.
Without fail. I even slipped out the backdoor (the one that smells like weed) and still had this mustached man shove a camera three inches from my face.
He could have broken my glasses. That was one of my fears at least.
He did scream so loud and so close that his voice drilled into my head. “Willow! Willow! Do you know anything about Connor & Rose?! Is their marriage fake?!”
The accusations against Connor Cobalt and Rose Calloway have been horrible lately. The media discovered Connor has slept with men, before he dated Rose, and now they think his relationship with Rose isn’t real. Like he’s using her to hide his sexuality.
Thankfully some fans realize that Connor can be attracted to men while also being attracted to women. That both things can be true: Connor sleeping with guys in the past and also loving and sleeping with Rose in the present.
It just sucks that some fans aren’t louder than the media.
When the cameraman rushed me, I wasn’t brazen enough to scream in his face, but I felt like yelling. A big part of me regrets not saying anything. Not sticking up for Rose and Connor when they’ve been so kind to me.
Especially Rose.
But I’m also kind of glad I didn’t say anything. Opening my mouth probably would’ve made the situation worse. Anyway, Ryke and Lo are yelling enough for just about everyone these days.
I did write a few supportive Tumblr posts, and I reblogged cute Coballoway gifs from fan accounts. Garrison told me to send him the links, and he did the same.
I walk down the sidewalk towards my apartment building. With the parking deck under construction, I had to park a block away. A white Volvo slowly moves on the other side of the street and keeps pace with me.
That’s weird, right?
Paparazzi have never really followed me to my apartment. They lose interest in me as soon as I climb into my Honda. They couldn’t care less about abandoning Superheroes & Scones for Loren Hale’s boring “cousin.” I’ve been glad about that.
But this…
Changes things.
I tighten my hold on the backpack strap and quicken my pace. The apartment complex’s front entrance is inches from my fingertips, and a man jumps out of the Volvo. “Willow! I’d like to ask you some questions!”
I flinch, my pulse spiking.
I don’t know why, but he sounds more serious than the other paparazzi. Like a fancy news reporter. It makes me do a doubletake, and he quickly catches up to me.
“I’m with Celebrity Crush —”
Oh…no. Nope! Do not want to talk. Celebrity Crush has been known to spout off some of the worst and nastiest rumors about the Calloway sisters.
I mumble out an I’m sorry or maybe it was just unintelligible words. But I say something that my brain and mouth put together before bolting into the apartment complex. My hands shake as I dig for my cell. Just as I find it in the depths of my backpack, a text pings.
Garrison: made it to S&S. Thanks for the assist. Owe you like a million. Hey, did you know how comfortable the Millennium Falcon is? Who would’ve guessed?
I calm just reading his text. But my heart still thrashes against my ribcage, reminding me what I have to do.
I dial his number.
The line clicks. “Willow?”
“Lo, I have to tell you something.”
* * *
If I total all the days and weeks that I’ve been in Philly since I left Maine, it’s been around nine months, and I’d like to think that’s a long time.
Almost a whole year on my own. It makes me feel better knowing that I tried really, really hard to not be a burden on Lo.
To not accept more from my brother than I absolutely have to.
If I felt safe enough to live in my apartment, I think I could have even lasted longer than those nine months. But after the paparazzi followed me home, Loren asked if I’d like to move into his mansion-sized house in a gated Philadelphia neighborhood.
The same neighborhood that Garrison grew up in.
I couldn’t say no this time.
I really like the Calloway sisters, Ryke, and even Connor. They’ve accepted me into their lives without hesitation, and I know in the beginning that acceptance originated from their trust in Lo. But I hope that now it’s because they also trust me.
“We should decorate and make this space more Willow-y,” Daisy tells me, rolling around my new bedroom on a skateboard. All my stuff (which isn’t much) sits in the middle of the room, still packed in a couple boxes and a suitcase.
I’m officially “moved in” thanks to Lo, Ryke, and Daisy’s help this morning.
They had a few empty guest rooms on the east wing of the house, and Lo let me pick which one I’d like. He didn’t seem pleased when I chose the smallest of the three, but he didn’t push me to choose differently.
I like how quaint this one feels. Just a bed, tin desk, and white wooden dresser. That’s more than enough for me.
Daisy spins to face me as I unfold a box. She’s always moving. It’s kind of like watching a hummingbird flit around a space. “We could also paint the walls.” She abandons the skateboard and plops on my bed. “There’s a hardware store nearby, and we can buy some brushes and stuff.”
I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
I have new roommates. Six adults and two babies to be exact. I’m living with the Calloway sisters and their men.
If you’d told me that’s how all of this would have panned out months ago—I’d have said you were dead wrong.
More surprising than that—I’m comfortable here.
Not too nervous or skittish . I never thought I’d feel that way with people so famous and so much more interesting than me.
I know it has to do with Lo. He made a lot of effort to welcome me and make my surroundings feel like home.
He’s my brother, but he feels like family now.
I follow Daisy’s gaze to the walls and then I rip the tape off a box. “I have some posters in here too, and I love the new paint idea.” We exchange a wider grin.
Daisy rests her feet on the skateboard, swaying them back and forth while she sits. “What color are we thinking? First one that comes to mind. Go!”
“Aquamarine,” I blurt out, and then my face falls. Skin hot. Is it hot in here?
“Ooh, aquamarine. That also happens to be the eye color of a certain someone.” She wags her brows. “Anything new you wanna share?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, really.”
She sidles next to me with a pair of scissors, cutting open a different box. Her smile is softer and extinguishes the heat on my neck. “Nothing nothing . Or nothing something ? Because I have this theory that nothing is just seven letters hiding an unspoken truth.”
There are definitely unspoken truths when it comes to Garrison Abbey. But these truths aren’t mine to release into the world. He’s been so good about keeping my secrets from people—like anything I accidentally say to him about the Calloway sisters or Loren—that I wouldn’t even think to share his.
And there are a lot of secrets at the moment.
Flunking out of Faust.
Lying to his parents about the boarding school.
Breaking into Superheroes & Scones and sleeping there at night.
I’m a little surprised I aided and abetted that last act, but he’s my friend. And he needed my help. It’s really that simple.
“The unspoken truth is…” I tell Daisy. “Besides you, Garrison is my only other friend, and so he pops up in my head a lot.” I pale again. “Apparently, now with wall colors.”
Daisy smiles. “Aquamarine would actually look really pretty. We can go to the paint store in a few—” She cuts herself off as her husky bounces into the room. “Hello there, Coconut.” She squats down and scratches the dog’s soft white fur.
A few months ago, around Daisy’s 20 th birthday, Ryke brought home the husky to help with her PTSD. Coconut is a certified service dog and also the cutest fluffy thing in this house.
“So are there house rules?” I wonder, pulling out a stack of hangers from the box.
“It’s just…I’ve never lived with three couples and two babies before.
So I don’t know how this works.” Admitting my innocence causes my breath to shallow.
I probably sound like a fool. Quickly, I look away before I can meet Daisy’s gaze.
If I can’t see it, it won’t be immortalized in my memory.
“Hey,” she says sweetly.
I look up, and her eyes are kind and also vulnerable on me. Like she’s trying to show me the sadder pieces and not just happy-go-lucky Daisy.
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think many people have been in this living arrangement before.”
We both look around the bare room. But it’s not really the space we’re feeling. It’s the people, the fame, the wealth.
When our eyes meet again, Daisy says, “We’re like unicorns here.
Living out unique lives.” She stares off in thought.
“Not a lot of people will ever understand what we go through or even care, and that’s partly why we’ve been drawing closer to each other, living together.
” She hugs her legs. “I wasn’t always that close with Rose and Lily, but I really wanted to be. ”
“You weren’t that close?”
And she goes on to tell me deeper things about her childhood, about being the sister left behind, and Daisy asks me more about my life in Maine.
We talk for hours and hours, and we forget about paint colors. It’s a tomorrow project. Today, I just really like sharing her company. And I know I’m not going to regret moving in.