“No chance. I was eating all the time, I started stacking on weight. I’ve got that kind of body. I should really have a beer gut.”

Eden laughed. “I can’t see that at all.”

“Good.” Willow’s grin faded. “I almost fucked myself though. I knew I was getting out of shape, but I could still run and my game was good, so I didn’t take it seriously. Then my coach told me I had two months to get back down to my draft weight or I was dropped.”

“Your draft weight? Like what you weighed when…?”

“I first started playing?” Willow’s smile was grim. “Yup. Me and the coaches are never best mates, but I’m pretty sure this one wanted to get rid of me.”

“What happened?”

“I got a wellness officer, Bridget. She was a backup dancer for Prince. Anyway, she was great. I told her I wasn’t going to quit drinking or eating cheese and she just laughed. Said nothing big had to change. And she was right. I followed what she said and dropped a tonne of weight.”

“How did that work?”

“Just better scheduling. Eating before I went out, sleeping more during the week, cutting out sugar. It all added up.”

Eden put her elbow on the table. “Huh.”

“Yeah, anyway, what about you? You’ve got managers and people looking out for you, right?”

Eden snorted. Kieran, Cheryl, and Andy were lovely, but they weren’t her parents. If she showed up to gigs on time and didn’t snort Ketamine directly off the turntables, everything was A-okay by them. Cheryl might nag her about getting more sleep, or laying off the vodka, but not too much. Probably because she’d be opening herself to criticism about her crazy workload and pack-a-day smoking habit.

“No, I’m kind of on my own, health-wise.”

Willow’s brow furrowed.

“That’s my choice! I didn’t get into the music industry because I wanted to drink hot chocolate and be in bed by 10.”

“I get that, but who looks after you?”

The air around her stilled. “I… What?”

Willow leaned forward, blue eyes shining in his stupid face. “Who looks after you?”

Eden wanted to cry. She wanted to press her face into her hands and howl like a little dog tied up outside a supermarket. Then the misery turned like a whip, snapping into fury. What a dumb fucking question. No one looked after her. No one looked after anyone. When you were done needing a packed lunch and a ride to piano lessons, you didn’t need to be looked after. She sat back in her chair, hating him. “Dude. Don’t worry about me.”

Willow shook his head. “Okay.”

But he wasn’t saying ‘okay’ like he was sorry. He meant ‘okay, I guess I’ll look after you.’ Eden’s stomach lurched. “Doctor Williams, I’m fine.”