Page 94 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

“I’m not doing anything...yet.” I sank back in my chair. “While we’re on the topic of anonymous texters. I haven’t heard anything from my other one. I’m assuming Louise never answered your question, either.”

“No, but we have our answer. It was Gordon. We always suspected him, and Louise confirmed.”

“But my anonymous texter advised me to follow the money. How would that implicate Gordo?”

She shrugged. “Gordon pushed the image of five single, available lads singing songs directly to their fans—and made millions doing it. You guys were his cash cows.”

“I suppose.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “All these anonymous messages, DMs, random photos appearing on my phone—doesn’t anyone ever communicate face-to-face anymore, human-to-human?”

“With jobs, NDAs, careers, and reputations on the line, why would they?”

“It’s...soulless.”

Quinton dimmed the lights, and someone in the back pulled down the last open shade on the window. Rhys had fallen asleep in front of the TV, and the bus hurtled through the Chihuahuan Desert.

Noelle snapped her laptop closed and stuffed it into her bag. “I’m going up to my bunk to get some sleep. Do not...” she wagged a finger in my face “...follow me there.”

“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart. “I’m going to work on some music—just in case my reputation survives this onslaught and someone actually wants to listen to it.”

“I’ll make it work.” Noelle glanced around quickly and dropped a kiss on my cheek.

As she walked away, swaying with the motion of the bus, I pressed my fingers against the spot to preserve the feel of her lips a little longer.

A text from Toby came through, and I groaned when I read the words:

What the hell is going on out there?

Now I had my manager on my ass. This could end right now.

I navigated to my own anonymous email account—ironic how I was just complaining to Noelle about faceless bots behind keyboards. I’d become one.

I brought up PopWiz’s page for submitting tips. How many celebrities before me had used this page to control their own destiny? Did I have a tip for them—including the pics to prove it. They’d eat this shit up.

I drafted the message and brought up the incriminating pictures of Ashley and Tomo. Ashley would survive another scandal. Not sure Noelle would survive her first.

My thumb hovered over the Attachment button. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth.

One tap. One tap and I'd have my reputation back. The boos would stop. We could launch the reunion tour with all our fans behind us.

I switched back to the photos and eyed the trashcan. Another tap and the pictures were gone forever. Noelle could manage this in a different way, one that didn’t set her career on fire.

My thumb landed on the trash can. One last prompt. Was I sure I wanted to permanently delete 3 photos? Was my phone trying to torture me?

I stared at the screen until it dimmed.

Then I hit Delete.

Chapter 23

NOELLE

I woke with a start, my mouth dry. I lifted a corner of my sleep mask, and then I peeked between the slats of the blind over the window. The setting sun hovered over a landscape of rolling hills, not mesas, no buttes. We must be close to Hill Country and Austin.

From the sagging mattress above me and the steady breathing, I knew Conor had finally come to bed. I’d waited for him as long as I could keep my eyes open, but the drama—and the sex—of last night finally took their toll, and I drifted off before he made it up here.

My phone lay at the tip of my fingers on the bed. I turned it off earlier when the constant buzzing from text messages kept me awake and anxious.

I shoved my sleep mask to my forehead and turned on my phone. You’d think I’d just activated a vibrator, as the phone buzzed in my hand again and again. I didn’t even have to look at the display to know the sender—Dina.