Taking the risk, he glanced over her way again. She held the cheery red snowflake mug cupped between both hands, her gaze going past him to the snowy scene on the other side of the bay window. She looked completely out of place in the country winter wonderland kitchen with her ripped black jeans, oversize black sweater with its ragged edges on the sleeves, and detailed leaf tattoo climbing up her arm, visible beneath her pushed-up sleeves.

But that wasn’t what made his muscles tense all the way from his toes to his shoulders. It was that she had that little bit of a lost look in her eyes that he had to steel himself against. This wasn’t just a person in the kitchen—this was the woman who’d blasted his life apart.

“Haven’t you already said enough?” he asked. “I realize you’re just trying to build your reputation even more, maybe snag the opportunity to renegotiate your brand new contract for more money, but I’m not now nor am I ever going to open myself up in front of the world.”

She closed her eyes, her jaw flexing, and let out a huff of frustration.

“Counting to ten?” he asked. “Or twenty?”

“Neither.” She glared at him. “I’m reminding myself why I should bother to apologize to you.”

“Oh yeah?” He snorted. “You gonna butter me up and then pump me for how I’m feeling, so you can sell that bit of information off for fun and profit?”

Wouldn’t that just be the poisoned cherry on this shit sundae. Everyone wanted to know how he was feeling, how he was dealing with the news. Fucking angry and by getting drunk—hopefully soon—were the answers, but he sure as fuck wasn’t sharing that with the world.

“You’re a real jerk,” Shelby said, her voice quiet and a little bit trembly.

He shrugged. “What can I say, apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For my dad’s wandering dick and my lying best friend? How sweet of you to share. Can we go back to absolute silence now?”

“No, I’m sorry that I was a giant chicken and took my mom’s call so I wouldn’t have to walk into that media room, that I didn’t better check to make sure no one else was in the bathroom because my mom is a very loud talker, that when Maddie overheard my mom, I didn’t have a Men in Black memory destroyer thing to zap her with, and, most of all, I’m sorry that this is how you found out.”

He froze. Mom. Overheard. Bathroom. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s how the news got out and I’m sorry, but I had no idea what my mom was about to say or that her friend was even telling the truth.”

“You didn’t tell the Post on purpose?”