Fandom (Famous #3) - Eden Finley Page 0,17
his way.
If I were going to even consider going back to Eleven, I’d need Denver and me to be okay again. Even if it means swallowing my hurt and trying.
Yeah, this whole trying to convince myself I’m doing the right thing is not working.
I turn on my heel to head back for my truck when Denver’s Maserati pulls into his drive. The headlights blind me, and I hold up my hand.
He doesn’t drive into his garage. The car door opens, and his tall frame appears in a silhouette, hidden by the lights. “Mase?”
“I need a place to crash.”
Silence. Denver stands stock-still. Maybe it was a mistake coming here.
“Or I could go somewhere else. It’s fine.”
Denver leaves his car door open, the engine running, and rounds the hood to approach me. He looks exhausted again. Or still. I thought it was because he was hungover when he came to Montana, but he can’t be hungover now at nine o’clock at night. I hate my first instinct is to coddle him and make sure he’s okay, but I refrain.
He steps in front of me. “Don’t go anywhere else. You can stay here as long as you want. I, uh … This is not what I was expecting after …”
“Yes, well, after you guys visited me and made your presence known, paparazzi followed the story and found me. I don’t have many other options.”
He stares at me. The vibe between us never used to be like this. I don’t know if we can get back what we once had, but I hate what we have now—strained tension.
“I’ll go put the car away and show you the guesthouse.”
That should fill me with relief—staying with him but technically not—but I’ve stayed in his guesthouse before. It’s a small hut out by the pool that has a bed, a TV, and a single bathroom. If I want anything to eat, I have to go to the main house. It’s no different than giving me the room right next to his because we will inevitably still run into each other.
You’d think the long-ass drive down here would have prepared me for this, but it hasn’t. I’m torn between wanting to hug him and yell at him.
I still think we can’t come back from the last few years, and I hate that I’m here having to swallow my pride because I have nowhere else to go, but there’s a part of me who has missed Denver so much, it’s already made peace with him.
I already know it’s going to be a constant fight with that side of me to stay mad.
Denver parks the car in his garage and goes through the house to meet me at the front gate.
He leads me inside, through his expansive foyer and living room that’s filled with more god-awful trinkets and “art” than last time I was here, and as he passes that horrible duck he’s owned forever, he pats his head. “Good boy.”
“I can’t believe you still have Bill.”
“He’s my good-luck charm.” Denver goes out to his back balcony, and I follow.
His house is built into the side of a hill, so his entry level hides the whole underneath part of the house where he has a gym and a music room.
We go down the stairs and walk across the grass to the standalone square hut I guess I’m calling home for a while. At least until everything blows over.
Denver slides open the wooden door and lets me in. “Umm, so I’ll be on set again tomorrow all day. We’re pulling long hours on this stupid reality show, so you’ll have the place to yourself.”
I read he’d signed on to be a judge on a reality talent show, and I’d wanted to call him to congratulate him but knew it would go unanswered.
So, I don’t congratulate him now either. “Okay.”
“’Kay.” He spins on his heel but pauses. “I’m really happy you’re here.”
I wish I could say the same, but maybe I’ll get there.
Is there a self-help book for that? Forgiveness for Dummies. I’d buy it.
Chapter Seven
Denver
Having Mason in my guesthouse is weird. Especially because I’m gone from sunrise to way past sunset throughout the week, so we haven’t run into each other.
Every night I get home from the set, I can’t help looking out at the light streaming from his window. It’s tempting—so tempting—to go out there and talk to him, but my days are long, and I’m too mentally drained to muster the energy. Or the courage.
Offering him a place to