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“Don’t,” I say, stepping out of Ezra’s arms and right into Dylan’s. “Don’t start beating yourself up over it. I went out of my way to hide it. You couldn’t have known.”
Rock grabs my arm and pulls me out of Dylan’s, locking me in a tight bear hug as he drops his chin to the top of my head. He’s not a man of many words, but he has big feels, and they always hit the hardest. “I’m okay,” I promise him, both of us knowing I’m lying right through my teeth.
I pull back, wiping the stray tears from my eyes as I look at my three boys, desperately needing the attention to be off me. I can’t handle their broken hearts and helpless stares all at the same time. “Okay, so is now a good time to tell you that Dylan and Madds accidentally made a sex tape?”
Madds gasps behind me, and all eyes fly to her, including the eight security guards around us. “The fuck, Rae?” she demands. “I thought we were keeping that on the downlow.”
Dylan grins and steps toward her. “No, shit. Huh? A sex tape?” he says, excitement dancing in his tone. “I suppose it was only a matter of time. Let me see. I bet I fucking rocked it.”
Madds drops her face into her hands, embarrassment flooding her. “Oh, you did,” she mumbles into her hands.
Dylan loops his arm over her shoulders and drags her out of the dressing room with the rest of us. “So, what’s the deal? Are we doing this? Cause I need to get home. Apparently, we’re having a movie night,” he says, pulling Madds even closer, her cheeks flushing while looking between me, Rock, and Ezra. “You guys wanna join? We can have popcorn.”
I can’t help but laugh. He really does want to have a viewing party for his sex tape.
“No,” Madds laughs. “Nobody but you is seeing this tape.”
“Oh,” Dylan says, his face falling. “Is it not good? We can make a better one if you’re worried about angles.”
Her brows arch. “You wanna make another one?”
“Baby, I’ve never come so hard in my life,” he says, his voice lowering as his eyes dance with a wicked enjoyment. “I’ll make one every day for the rest of my life if it means getting to eat that sweet—.”
“Okay,” Ezra says, cutting him off. “Let’s go before we get roped into being the cast and crew for Madison Takes My Big Square Gardens, Part Two.”
One of the security guards snickers to himself before quickly trying to wipe the grin off his face, and with that, Ezra’s hand slips into mine, pulling me along. The security team crowds around us, and the moment the paparazzi see movement within the store, their blinding flashes start all over again.
There are more people crowded outside than I could have ever expected, all of them surrounding the three blacked-out SUVs that are parked outside the store. There are even more security guards outside, already working crowd control and making a path for us to get through.
“You okay?” Ezra murmurs, leaning into me as we approach the door.
I shrug my shoulders, quickly glancing back to make sure Dylan still has Madds. “Not really,” I tell him. “It’s not exactly a story I ever wanted to get out.”
“We’ll handle it. When you’re ready, we can talk it through with our PR team to see what the best way to handle this would be. You can say as little or as much as you want, set the record straight with a statement, or if you’re not ready, we can just lay low until it blows over.”
I shake my head. “Laying low isn’t an option, not with you guys heading back out on tour in two weeks. We need to handle it before we head to Portugal. We can’t have this shit hanging over our heads.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning into him.
His hold tightens around my waist as his security reaches for the door, pulling it open. “You ready?” he asks, looking at the mob ahead. “Just keep your head low and ignore everything they say. They’ll be brutal about it in the hopes of getting a reaction out of you, so just keep your cool, and then you can fall apart once we’re in the car.”
Fuck.
“Okay.”
With that, we make our move.
The security team falls out around us, shoving the fans and paparazzi back as they try to mob us. “MISS STONE,” someone screams right near my ear. “IS IT TRUE? DID YOUR FATHER RAPE YOU?”
Another voice comes from the opposite direction. “RALEIGH, OVER HERE. OVER HERE, PLEASE!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Tune them out,” Ezra says, clutching my hand, squeezing it tighter than ever as the flashes from the cameras blind me. “Just focus on me. I’m right here. I’ve got you, Rae.”
My whole attention becomes laser focused on the feel of his hand in mine, and as we slowly make our way through the mob, the noise around me turns into a distant blur.
