I’d confronted Candy about the lie before leaving for the tour, ages ago now. I’d told her in no uncertain terms to back the fuck off and leave Kiera alone. I’d also found out where they’d spotted my tattoo. One of them had seen me exercising—shirtless—at the park. Them twisting that little-known knowledge into a fake story to hurt Kiera still pissed me off. But Kiera hadn’t mentioned Candy again, so I felt like she’d taken my warning to heart. I might have scared her a little with my intensity. I didn’t want to scare her now, or encourage her, so I kept my expression as blank as possible as she turned to face us. That became a little more difficult when I saw she was very pregnant. Thank all the fucking stars in the world that it wasn’t mine.

Candy looked really surprised when she saw us. She said something to her friends, then started walking our way. Kiera sighed, not looking forward to talking to her. She didn’t need to worry; I would put Candy in her place, if needed. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to.

There was a confusing amount of solemnness on Candy’s face when she stopped in front of us. Her eyes lowered to the floor, almost remorsefully. “Hey, I just wanted to apologize…for all the crap I used to give to you about Kellan.”

I was stunned to hear her say that. Candy had never seemed like the apologetic type to me. Or ever truly interested in me. She was just…possessive, like Joey had been. She looked up at Kiera, then me. “I guess I wanted attention.” Her gaze drifted back to her shoes. “I was pretty ignored in my high school and being with you gave me a certain amount of…clout…here.” She looked back up at me. “Sorry. That was pretty shallow of me.”

Any lingering anger I had toward her disappeared at hearing her apology, at seeing the sadness on her face, the guilt. I kind of felt bad for her. She still shouldn’t have tried to fuck up my relationship, but…I could understand wanting to be noticed, wanting to feel connected to people. It was fairly similar to what I’d done. I’d had sex with whoever I could to feel like I belonged. Candy had sex with me to feel like she belonged, or more accurately, she’d had sex with my fame to feel like she belonged. It had little to do with me, as a person. It was a good thing for both of us that that cycle was over with. It wasn’t healthy.