The valets sprang into action and assisted in keeping the crowd at bay and helped us to get over to our waiting SUV.

Once we were safely inside, Shelby let out a loud breath. “That was insane! I thought they were going to crush us.”

But Noah only had eyes for me. “Reina’s right. It’s time for me to get a bodyguard. The idea that someone might have hurt you . . .” His voice trailed off, and he kissed me as if to reassure himself that I was okay.

Meanwhile, he was the one I was worried about. We’d been happy in our little bubble for so long, behaving like normal people, that I’d forgotten myself. I’d forgotten who he was and how those pictures were probably going to end up on the ENZ website and in my favorite magazines with everybody wondering who I was.

But the thing that concerned me most was how he could have gotten hurt. I’d already seen a fan physically attack him in the name of adoration—what if the next one had a knife? Or a gun? “I definitely think you should look into getting more security,” I said.

Shelby added, “We can get somebody out to your house to install a state-of-the-art home system, too.”

As we drove to the airport, Noah’s arm around me and holding me tightly against him, I wondered if I could always live like this. Zoe Covington was doing it, but even she’d admitted it was hard.

I squeezed his hand. I could do it for him. I could find a way to cope with all of this craziness, if that’s what it took.

Problem was, I didn’t think I was going to get that chance. Not once I told him everything.

So I did what I’d been doing—I didn’t say anything. It was so much easier to pretend I didn’t have this secret looming over our heads and to just continue life like normal. Gladys came back and paid me the rest of my fee, and I realized that I was going to really miss Sunshine. I asked if I could come by and visit sometime, and she replied by shutting the door in my face.

I was also going to miss being so close to Noah. But me moving back to my now-empty apartment didn’t change much. Either I went to his place or he came to see me every night. Then about a week after Las Vegas, he asked me if I had plans.

“Depends. There’s this movie star I hang out with, and he might want to do something.”

“Forget that guy,” he said. “There’s this film festival I have to go to. I’m getting an award for Best Actor for The Last Goodbye. You should come hang out with me instead.”

“I could do that.”

“There’s going to be press. And fans,” he warned me.