Page 23 of The Star in Room 7

“I know.”

“Would it help to talk about it? In more detail, I mean.”

I take a deep breath and nod. “Yes, I think it will. But do you mind if we go back to Halo House to talk? I’d rather not get interrupted mid-flow by a random jogger.”

“Of course, but we need to get back to the bottom of the trail first. Are we going to take it slowly, or…?”

“Race me?”

I grin. “Gladly.”

7

ZACH

Nate beats me to the car, barely, and then we drive back to Halo House. I don’t talk or sing, and Nate seems happy to let me be silent. I’m not sure why I committed to telling him what happened. Is it because he’s so open about his own life, or because he makes me feel safe? Or maybe I just need to get it out. If I speak it out loud, it’ll seem less scary, and I’ll realize I’m overreacting and laugh it off, and this whole nightmare will be over. Alternatively. I’ll feel even worse about myself than I already do.

The conservatory is free, so we go in there, shutting the door behind us. We sit on neighboring chairs, but almost straight away I get up and pace. It’s so hot in here. It doesn’t help that I’m hot and sweaty from the run. I should go and shower first, although I probably won’t come downstairs again if I do. Besides, there’s something oddly comforting about wearing Nate’s clothes. I have no idea what that says about me.

Talk. That’s what I said I’d do. That’s what I will do.

I take a deep breath, twist my fingers together, and face him. “Before I tell you everything that happened… I’ve been trying to figure out how she found out where I live.”

“Have you?”

“I think so, yes. A few days ago, I was photographed with my co-star from Confessions. Stacey? That’s the actress’s name. Her character was Melody.”

“Your on-screen girlfriend? I remember.”

“We went for coffee together. I have no idea why there were even paparazzi there, but one minute we were enjoying an iced coffee together, and the next, they were taking photos of us. It didn’t take long before they ended up online, and everyone started asking if we’re dating in real life. We’re not, obviously.” I put my hands in the pockets of the jogging bottoms I’m wearing. Nate’s jogging bottoms. “Afterwards, a reporter followed me home.”

Nate’s expression darkens. I assume the bodyguards he hires have to deal with overenthusiastic press all the time.

“They tried interviewing me, and they took photos, but I asked them—politely—to leave me alone. I didn’t mind running into reporters downtown, but following me home…” I shudder. “It was too much.”

“It’s not okay,” Nate agrees.

“My current theory is that they published some of the photos and that there was enough in them to identify where I live. It’s either that, or she’d been following me.” I shudder. “I don’t want to think about her following me.”

“I know.” Nate moves along, making room for me beside him, and holds his hand out. “Sit with me.”

I stare at him.

He smiles and waggles his fingers invitingly. The sunlight picks out golden flecks in his hazel eyes. They’re so beautiful. So kind. He promised he wouldn’t laugh at me or mock me. I have to trust him. I step close enough to take his hand and let him gently tug me onto the seat beside him.

He wraps his arm around me and pulls me against his side, stroking my shoulder. “Is this all right?”

It’s better than all right. It’s nice, comforting, and grounding. I nod and lean into him more, craving his warmth in a way I’ve never wanted anything before. I can’t explain it. Being this close to him just feels right.

We sit in silence for a while, Nate holding me, while I build up the courage to continue. Tears prickle my eyes. Why can’t I just spit it out? Why can’t I admit what happened? Admit how ridiculous I’m being?

“I was bullied for being a theatre kid,” I blurt out eventually, which isn’t what I meant to say at all. “That’s the real reason I bulked up. I was always tall for my age. Tall but scrawny. Between that and liking acting, singing, and dancing, I was an easy target. I bulked up so the bullies would be too scared to target me, but I told myself I was doing it because fit guys get cast more easily. It’s bullshit. But now I’m big enough and strong enough to stand up for myself. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was terrified.”

“What happened?” Nate asks, holding me tighter still.

I choke out a sob.

“Take your time.” He rocks me, whispering soothing sounds that make me want to press tighter against him.