TAMING HOLLYWOOD'S BADDEST BO- Max Monroe Page 0,68

a fucking gossip magazine’s eyes.”

When she doesn’t say anything, I start to fear the worst, that my sister is in some kind of trouble or going down a similar path as I did. I squeeze Billie’s hand. “What’s going on with Rocky?”

“Actually…” She frets her lip again.

“What?”

“I kind of feel bad telling you like this, but…she’s pregnant. Due pretty soon, I think.”

Holy fucking shit.

Ever since I left Hollywood, I’ve ignored anything related to it. Newspapers, the internet, award shows—all of it. But I’m not surprised my sister’s acting career is still going strong. I am, however, surprised as fuck to find out she’s expecting a baby I don’t even know about.

I’m going to be an uncle. Or, well, if I were still a part of her life, I would be an uncle.

My chest squeezes tightly.

“Pregnant?” I whisper.

Billie nods. “I’m sure I haven’t followed it as closely as the rest of the world, but it was front-page news pretty much everywhere when it was first announced.”

Christ. This is something I should’ve known about.

Something a big brother should be a part of and supporting his baby sister in…

“Who’s the father? Is she married?” I ask, a guilty knot in my throat about being so out of touch that I have to ask these questions, and I find it difficult to breathe.

“I can’t really remember his name,” she says with an apologetic shrug. “Somebody from outside of Hollywood. New York, maybe?” She bites her lip with a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I wish I could give you more.”

I shake my head rapidly. It’s not Billie’s fault I don’t know what the fuck is going on with my sister.

But the news of her finding someone outside of all the bullshit…someone to ground her, maybe… Well, it makes the edge of my mouth curl up into a small smile.

God. I hope to fuck she’s actually happy.

Billie squeezes my hand. “You know, if I were her, I would want to hear from my big brother.”

“I wish it were that easy.”

“But it is that easy, Luca. It’s just a phone call.”

I wish I were better with this than I am. But it’s something I’ve been struggling with for a very long time now. It’s not something I can just change overnight.

When Billie yawns three times in a row, I welcome the distraction and press a soft kiss to her hair. “You should sleep.”

“So should you,” she teases. “Or, you know, if you don’t quite feel like sleeping, maybe you could do a little reading by flashlight to help you relax.”

I smirk. “I don’t have anything left to read.”

“Uh, yes, you do.”

“No,” I answer. “I don’t. I read both of those stupid magazines you brought with you, and I finished the screenplay at Lou’s.”

“You, what?” she asks and starts to turn on her side, but I keep her firmly in place.

“I did read it, all of it, and I agree with you. It’s going to be an amazing movie,” I whisper into her ear. “Now, go to sleep because that’s all I’m willing to say about it for tonight.”

“Thank you for reading it,” she says, and her voice is already fading.

“You’re welcome,” I whisper. “Good night, princess.”

“Good night, Lucky.”

A soft, amused giggle leaves her lips, and I roll my eyes. Lucky.

It’s a ridiculous nickname, but for the first time since Lou started calling me that, with Billie in my arms, I actually feel like luck might be on my side.

Billie

There’s a reason toilets are nicknamed thrones; they should be treated like freaking royalty. From now on, I will speak only good things in their presence.

At a little after noon, we arrived at Luca’s house, and the first thing I did was plop my ass down onto his leather sofa in the living room. The first thing Luca did was take all of his shit upstairs and start unpacking. And, Bailey… Well, he was one-hundred-percent focused on re-marking his territory on every damn tree surrounding the cabin’s perimeter.

I’ve never had a dog, not even as a kid, but this dog’s funny personality and sweet demeanor make me wish I did.

Sadly, though, with my small-ass LA apartment and busy work schedule, a dog isn’t in the cards. But one day, I hope to find a sweet boy just as good and ornery as Bailey.

Once he’s at the deck doors whining like a big baby, I force myself off the couch and let him inside. He makes a show of lapping up water from his bowl before sprawling out on a