Page 75 of Wardrobe Malfunction

“Vaughn, look this way! It’s been a while since you were out partying. Have you missed it? Who are the girls?”

“Julian, where’s your costar tonight?”

“Gabe, is it true you and Marti Shaw are together?”

“Vaughn, are you still bitter about what Piper and Cain did to you? I hear they’re getting married. Will you be at the ceremony?”

The questions are like bullets firing at us.

The sad thing is, it’s fucking normal for me, Gabe, and Julian.

We all bundle into the car, shutting the door on the vipers. But they still have the cameras to the windows, trying to get pictures.

“Aiden, get us the fuck out of here,” I tell him.

He nods from the front, and then the car is moving slowly, his horn honking to move the fuckers out of the way.

I slump back in the seat, feeling pissed off. Not about the Piper and Cain comments. I couldn’t give a shit if they were getting married or not.

It’s just the fact that I can’t go out to a bar with my friends without getting hounded by the press.

It was probably a good thing that I didn’t get in the car with just Charly. That would have been spread all across the Internet within minutes, and any chance of keeping me and her on the down-low would have been blown out of the water.

I look at her sitting on the seat across from me, a drunk Ava half-asleep on her shoulder and Logan sitting on the other side.

She gives me a soft smile, and the annoyance instantly just ebbs away.

I can’t wait to be alone with her.

“The pictures are already online,” Julian says from beside me, showing me his phone.

“Fuck, they’re quick,” Gabe says from my other side, leaning over to help himself to a whiskey from the minibar in the limo.

“The power of technology.” I sigh.

“Love ’em or hate ’em, they keep our name in the press and keep us relevant,” Gabe says.

He’s right. But it doesn’t make it any easier.

Sometimes, I just crave privacy. To not have to hide whom I’m sleeping with.

I couldn’t even take Charly out on a date if I wanted to because we might be seen.

It’s fucking ridiculous. And it’s my life.

“Where am I heading?” Aiden calls back to us.

“Is it still okay to drop off Ava first?” Charly checks with me.

“Of course. Just let Aiden know her address.”

Charly turns to Aiden and tells him where Ava lives.

Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up at Ava’s. Logan and Charly get her out of the limo. I’m pretty sure she’s asleep.

“We’ll just get her inside, and we’ll be right back,” Charly tells me.

“No worries. Take your time.”