It’s the song I hear in my head now as I look at the headline on this story. I really shouldn’t be reading it, but it’s hard not to.

The headline reads: Is he really going out with her? And there’s a photo of us leaving the hospital, my hand in his as he helps me into the back of the limo. I’m leaning toward him, my head against his shoulder. It’s actually a really nice photo of me. I bite my bottom lip as I open the image in a new tab and save it as Josh’s wallpaper.

The column’s written by some nasty, bitter gossip columnist who probably wants a piece of him for herself. And I could let it drag me down, but I’ve already learned I need to harden myself against the bad stuff. It’s hard when it’s right in your face.

“What are you looking at?” Josh walks into the room, towelling his hair dry. The humidity is pretty high today, and we’ve both been trying to cool down. Not easy when we end up tangled in the sheets right after showering most times.

“This lovely photo someone took of us.”

He leans over my shoulder to look at the computer browser. “What the fuck? She’s got your name and everything.”

“You know, you did just fire Mac. He doesn’t like me.” The words are out before I can stop them, but Josh just nods.

“You’re probably right. I’ll get my publicist onto it. I thought we might have more time to ourselves before the world caught wind of us. I’ll ask her to watch out for stories about Amelia.”

I turn in my seat, looking up at him. “I’ll call Pania too. She’ll keep Amelia safe.”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of her glares. I have faith in her.”

This was what I always feared, but at the same time, I knew it would come at some point. “Are you okay with this? I mean, if they go digging …”

He leans forward so his face is inches from mine. “They’ll find a pair of teenagers who just had some things to work out before they got their lives together. And they’ll also find a pair of adults who don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks because they’re crazy in love.”

I grin.

“Where’s your phone? You have social media, right?”

I nod. “Mine and the diner. Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.”

“You should turn off all your notifications. There’ll be people who have already tracked you down. I wanted to protect you from all of this.” He sighs. “There’ll be some nasty messages and posts aimed at you.”

“I’ll turn off my messaging everywhere. Facebook’s already locked down to friends only.”