“Mmahmm…”
I’m trying not to scare him awake. “This way, bro.”
“Mmah…Lun…Luna…”
Jack and I exchange a confused look. Why is my best friend muttering Luna Hale’s name in his sleepwalking haze?
He lowers his voice. “They’re just friends, right?”
I whisper back even softer since Akara and Banks are asleep in this apartment right now. “Loosely. The kind of friend you’d see in group settings and catch up with.” He has offered her condoms before, but as a wingman—not for his dick.
“…Lun…yeah…lemme help you, babe.” He’s about to run into the pull-out couch. I try to block him. He bumps me, then turns back towards the hall. “…best pussy…”
Motherfucker.
Jack frowns and mouths, they hooked up?
I shrug.
Seems like it. Unless it’s just his fantasy. Either way, all signs point to bad. So fucking bad. Luna Hale’s dad is a recovering addict.
Donnelly’s entire family are meth addicts. No way will Loren Hale ever want him involved with his daughter.
Too late.
“I’m going to pry for answers tomorrow,” I whisper to Jack, “when he’s actually coherent—”
A phone rings too loudly.
Donnelly suddenly startles awake.
“Fuck. Sorry.” Jack runs to the pull-out and searches for his cell twisted in the sheets.
“Donnelly. Donnelly. You’re safe, bro.”
He slips and falls on his ass.
“You were sleepwalking.”
“Huh?” He squints at the light.
I take a quick glance at my boyfriend. Wondering if the other execs are calling him about his job. But it’s 5 a.m.—early for a business phone call.
Jack puts his cell to his ear and races out of the apartment. Taking the call in the hallway, I’m assuming. My chest is on fire, but if he wanted me to follow him, he would’ve motioned me.
So I trust Jack not to pull a Charlie and disappear on me without details or warning.
I focus on my friend and squat down to Donnelly. “You need a water?”
“Nah.” He rests his forearms on his knees. “How’s the couch? Worth the price?”
“It’s worth 0 cents.” I sit down on the floor. “1-star rating.”
“1-star is better than no stars.” He massages his knuckles, reading my tensed features. “What?”
“Luna Hale?”
His face drops. “Farrow told you?”
I choke on surprise. “Farrow knew?”
“Shit.” He shuts one eye, then opens it. “So it’s a long story. But I’m not doin’ anything with Luna now.”
“But you did?”
“Once.” He glances towards the hall and then whispers so quietly I have to strain my ears. “I ate her out. That was it.”
I get most of the story and learn that only Farrow, Maximoff, Jane, and Thatcher know. Now me and Jack. Let’s keep it that way.
I’m still reeling. Going out of my ever-loving mind trying to process this. Donnelly and Luna.
Luna and Donnelly.
A science experiment?
I can’t believe he crossed that line. Mostly because Luna is Maximoff’s little sister. Maximoff was Farrow’s fiancé at the time. And Donnelly is loyal to Farrow. It’s a crossed friendship line.
“Do you still like her?” I ask.
“She’s cool,” he says nonchalantly.
Normally, I’d be grabbing a bucket of popcorn, but I have bad feelings. And Donnelly’s going through enough, so I’m not going to dig into it tonight.
I stand back up, helping Donnelly to his feet, and he heads to bed. Jack hasn’t returned. I reach the door.
Please still be there.
Please be in the hall.
I open the door, and I glance down the cavernous hallway. And I realize it’s empty.
My phone pings.
Had to go to my apartment. Sorry. Call later – Highland
This isn’t like him. Worry morphs into instinct to go. I grab my keys, put on pants, and I head out to chase after my boyfriend.
31
JACK HIGHLAND
I’m frazzled. The amount of attention on me is too new. Jesse is usually the one in trouble—and I’m not “in trouble” the way that a seventeen-year-old would be.
I’m not breaking a curfew, but to my parents, one of the worst life paths is possible career implosion. If I imploded it myself, that’s fine. My mom changed-up her nursing career. But if someone else is doing it—not cool.
So apparently, they flew here like I’m in need of saving. It had something to do with Jesse telling them my status as exec producer is on the line.
As soon as they called me, saying they arrived at my place in Philly, yelling, “Where are you?!”—like I’d already been sacrificed to the career gods—I didn’t think, I just left SFO’s apartment.
I left Oscar.
And I drove to The Walnut.
Immediately, I wanted to turn back around and tell him where I was headed. Ask him if he wants to join. But I couldn’t waste time knowing my parents were upset in my