Page 237 of Fame & Chaos

“Thank you. And whatever game you think you’re playing, stop. Stay the hell away from me. If you come near me again, I’ll have security remove you.”

She scowls. “Whatever.”

Then she leans close enough for me to smell her perfume and whispers in my ear, “You’re throwing away a really good thing, Caleb. For what? Indi? I know you’re still seeing her even though you want everyone to think you’re not.” She kisses my cheek, and I physically recoil.

“Don’t you dare talk about her,” I snap. “You have no right. Stay the fuck away from me.” I turn and walk straight out of the VIP area before I completely lose control.

My blood is boiling. If Indi saw that photograph, it could ruin everything.

I shove my hands into my pockets while storming downstairs toward the exit, needing to get the hell out of there before I do something stupid.

Then realization slams into me.

My phone.

I left it on the fucking bar.

“Goddammit!” I spin around and race back upstairs into the VIP section. My cell phone’s gone. Panic immediately claws up my throat.

The bartender approaches cautiously. “Everything okay, sir?”

“Not really. Has someone handed in a cell phone?”

Relief floods me when he smiles and nods. “Yes, just a few moments ago. I’ll grab it for you.”

Indi

I’m missing Caleb like crazy, but thankfully the wait is down to only two weeks before I get to see him again. Thank God.

He calls, Zooms, and emails me constantly, sending photographs from concerts and random pictures of everyone on tour. His hair is getting ridiculously long now, and I can’t wait to run my hands through it again.

Something is exciting about having this part of Caleb all to myself. Being the secret girlfriend no one knows about except his family and closest friends is strangely thrilling. The paparazzi don’t even realize I exist anymore, and honestly, I like it that way.

I’m on break at work, scrolling through emails on my phone when a new one from Caleb pops up.

To: Indica Malone

From: Caleb McCormack-Slade

Subject: Having such a great time ;)

I smile automatically at the stupid winky face in the subject line. But the second I open the attachment, my entire world caves in.

My heart drops so violently it feels like it’s shattered on the floor, bleeding out while still pumping hard enough to hurt. Air catches painfully in my throat as I stare at the photograph.

Caleb with Sasha hanging all over him.

Her tits are practically falling out of her top while her lips are plastered against his.

We talked about this.

Sasha was a no-go zone—a hard limit.

And now he’s emailing me a picture like this with the subject line ‘Having such a great time ;).’

I feel physically sick.

I can’t understand any of this.