Breaking Stars Page 2

  My anxiety level escalated as one car shot ahead, closing the space between us, the driver with a camera in one hand and gripping the steering wheel with the other. This was so dangerous, and I never understood why the police seemed to allow it. One of these days someone was going to get killed, and I silently prayed it wouldn’t be me or anyone I loved. A quick turn off the main highway and into what Malibu considered a neighborhood with a view, I slowed my reckless pace and attempted to regain some self-control.

  The chase cars screeched to a stop as I pulled up to Quinn’s privacy gates. A group of men jumped out quickly to get to me before I could escape inside. I leaned out my window to quickly punch the pass code into the keypad, and breathed out in relief as the gates swung open before any of them could reach me.

  My heart thumped as I maneuvered my car into the driveway and shut down the engine. As I stepped outside, the camera-wielding madmen lined up outside the iron gates of my best friend’s house, shouting random questions at me as they shoved their equipment between the bars and snapped the shutters repeatedly.

  “Paige, have you seen Colin?”

  “Is it true?”

  “We’re sorry, honey. He’s a jerk!”

  “Has he cheated on you before?”

  “How many times has it happened?”

  “What about the woman in Vegas? Is it true she’s pregnant with his baby?”

  I paused for a millisecond at the pregnancy bit, but forced myself not to interact with them as I bit down on the inside of my cheek while I rushed to the front door. The paparazzi were rarely ever cruel to me, but then again I didn’t normally give them anything to talk about. I stayed out of trouble, didn’t get sloppy drunk in bars, and never put myself in a position where I might be photographed getting into—or out of—a car without wearing my underwear.

  They called me America’s Sweetheart for a reason, and to be honest, I liked being thought of that way. It suited me far better than something like America’s Next Addict or Super-Slut. But I’d seen on more than one occasion how cruel and unforgiving the paparazzi could be, and the thought of being the target for their gossip terrified me.

  Quinn sprinted through the front door, her blond hair swaying with her haste. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a pained look as she bit down on her bottom lip.

  “Don’t do that. Please don’t do that,” I begged, squeezing my sunglass-covered eyes closed briefly before reopening them.

  “Do what?” Her eyebrows pinched together.

  “Don’t look at me with pity like that. I’ll break down right here on your front lawn if you look at me like that again,” I warned.

  She sucked in a quick breath. “Fine. I’ll just project my feelings somewhere else.” A sly grin spread across her lips before she narrowed her gaze and turned to face the firing squad of reporters. Quinn hooked her hands on her hips and her voice rose to a near shout as the shutter clicks and questions died down.

  “Leave her the hell alone. Don’t you have anything better to do? Give the girl a damn minute to deal with her life before you all do your best to make it worse for her. Why can’t you focus on all the good things Paige does instead of trying to kick her while she’s down? Go harass that asshole ex-boyfriend instead. He’s the one that deserves this shit storm. Not Paige.”

  I tugged at her arm as my comfort level shrank to virtually nothing. “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered before she cut me off.

  “Yes, I do. Screw them. They’re vultures. They love to see any one of us in pain. Especially someone as good as you who never does anything wrong. It makes me sick and I can’t stand it.” She reached for my hand, pulling me into her house, then slammed the front door, shielding us from prying eyes.

  “What would I do without you?” I breathed out.

  Quinn grinned. “Be way too nice to everyone in your life, including all the assholes outside who don’t care about you and only want to make money. You know, the usual.” Then she grabbed my bag from my shoulder.

  “I can carry my stuff,” I started to complain, knowing it was futile. Quinn was hardheaded and strong-minded, two things I absolutely admired about her. They were also the two qualities I believed I lacked the most, which was why we probably bonded so quickly as teenagers. We balanced each other out. She was definitely the yin to my yang, and our opposite natures only made me love her more.

  “So can I. Come on.” She headed down her naturally lit hallway toward one of two guest rooms. Quinn had them professionally decorated in themes: the Jungle Room and the Goddess Quarters. I wasn’t allowed to stay in the Jungle Room, even though I loved the rich greens and dark wood that dominated it. She always said, “The Jungle Room is for boys, Paige, and you’re not a boy.”

  The decor of my gender-appropriate room was gorgeous, however. Filled with rare and collectible Disneyland art, its classic symmetry and beauty was modeled after one of the suites at the theme park’s hotel. A stunning four-poster bed was the focal point of the room, its heavy silver curtains tied off on all sides, revealing crisp white bedding and oversized pillows. Silver and blue accents swirled throughout the room and into the private bath, where Italian hand-crafted marble and a fairy-tale theme combined to create a heavenly escape. Whenever I stayed here, it was like being in a dream. Everything down to the knobs on the dresser had been carefully chosen for maximum effect.

  Quinn tossed my bag onto the bed and then turned to face me. “Do you want to be alone, or are you hungry or anything?”

  “If I wanted to be alone, I wouldn’t be here,” I responded with mock snarkiness, and she snarled back at me.

  “Don’t try to sass me. It doesn’t work on you.” Her upper lip curled as she shook her head, and I held back a grin.

  “Where’s Ryson?” I asked, assuming her live-in boyfriend had to be around here somewhere.

  Her eyes lit up. “He’s in the office on a conference call. The boy never stops working, I swear. He has so many things he wants to do, Paige. It’s so hot.”

  Quinn always swooned as she talked about her boyfriend of the last four years. They met on the set of a movie where they each played the lead, and sparks instantly flew both on and off camera.

  Ryson had a rough past, though, and Quinn had resisted dating him at first because of it. But he wore her down eventually after proving he was worthy and insisting that his reformed bad-boy ways were now all in fun. He liked to go out with the guys, get pissed drunk, and get into fights. That hadn’t changed, and as far as I knew, Quinn never cared about those types of things. As long as he wasn’t cheating on her, she not-so-secretly liked that bad-boy side of him.

  “He wants to start directing, doesn’t he?” I asked.

  She waved her hand to shut me up. “Among other things. He’s written a couple of movie scripts, and he has an idea for a reality show. I don’t know how he has the time to do everything he does, but he’s a maniac.” She laughed. “Anyway, let’s go grab some food and sit out back by the pool.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, wishing it would help the ache in my heart. “Sounds good.”

  We walked back down the hallway and into the kitchen where Quinn opened the door to her fridge. She grabbed a smorgasbord of food and slapped it all down onto a large tray.

  “Okay, I grabbed us some ice cream, and I made brownies and chocolate chip cookie dough.”

  “You made brownies and cookies already?” I asked in disbelief.

  “You know how I am in the kitchen!” she said, glaring at me.

  Quinn couldn’t cook at all, and I knew it quite well. “A disaster?”

  She swatted my shoulder. “Fine! You know how I am with baking.”

  “A master,” I said with a slight grin.

  Quinn solved problems with junk food. If she couldn’t bake it, she’d order it or buy it. She always said there wasn’t an issue that couldn’t be fixed with sweets and treats.

  She shrugged. “I figured ice cream, cookie dough, and brownies were good breakup food
.”

  I nodded instead of responding. My brain stuck on the word breakup and as if on cue, the video started replaying in my mind’s eye.

  Quinn placed a hand on my arm, pulling my focus back to her. “I’m sorry, Paige. I’m being insensitive. I don’t mean to be so harsh with my words.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No, you’re not. It’s the truth. I just…it’s not that I can’t believe we’ve broken up. I just can’t believe the way it’s happened.”

  “He’s a loser. And a disgusting pig. He doesn’t deserve you, obviously. But mostly, you don’t deserve any of this.”

  “I’m too shocked, stunned, and numb to process that he’s a complete waste of oxygen, but I’m sure I’ll get there. Eventually.”

  “We’ll get there together. I’ll put all this together, and you get outside and get some vitamin D. Drinks are in the outdoor fridge,” she instructed with a nod of her head, and I realized my staying inside was not up for discussion.

  After grabbing a lemon water and a diet soda, I plopped down on one of her oversized lounge chairs next to the pool. The sun immediately started soaking into my pores as I tipped my head back and sucked in a long cleansing breath. Closing my eyes, I silently thanked God for the eighty-degree warmth. It didn’t seem right to feel so broken during such a beautiful day, as if my mood and the weather were a complete contradiction. I decided that if the sun had the ability to heal my broken heart, I wished it would hurry up and do it already.

  Quinn maneuvered herself onto the chair next to mine and placed the tray of food between us on a small table. “Eat,” she ordered, turning it in my direction so I could view the selection.

  I grabbed some crackers and cheese, and made a show of nibbling at them. My appetite had disappeared somewhere between the time the news broke and Colin’s pathetic attempts at reaching out to me.

  “Has he tried to call you?”

  I nodded, wishing we could avoid all things Colin, but knowing the reality of that would never happen. Sometimes I wished my life had a fast-forward button and I could skip ahead to the time when this was all in my past. But life didn’t work that way.

  “You didn’t answer?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and nodded my head again.

  “You’re my hero,” she practically sang in response. “Remind me to take lessons from you if Ryson ever breaks my heart. I don’t think I could stop myself from answering. That’s some serious willpower.”

  I pushed up, folding my legs in a yoga pose as I turned to face her. Searching for the right words, I said nothing as the tears started to fall.

  Quinn noticed what was happening and jumped to my side immediately, then wrapped her arms around me. “He doesn’t deserve your tears—” she started to say, but stopped. “But I know you’re hurting. And I’m so sorry for that.”

  I sniffed. “Me too. I feel so stupid.”

  “He should feel stupid,” she snapped.

  I leaned my head against her shoulder. “He made me look stupid, Quinn. It’s one thing when your boyfriend is cheating on you and all your friends know. I mean, that’s embarrassing enough, but he made a fool of me in front of the whole damn world. It’s mortifying on top of everything else I’m feeling.”

  “No.” She leaned away from me and grabbed my shoulders to square them. “He made a fool of himself. He made himself look like a complete douche bag asshole. He didn’t make you look like anything.”

  My pride longed to believe her. But it wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. I knew in my heart that no matter what Colin had done, or how badly it looked, he had included me in his actions. No one would ever think about his indiscretion without attaching my name to it. I didn’t want to be associated with this, and I hated the way it made my stomach ache.

  “He made me look like a fool, Quinn. People will look at me with pity in their eyes. With sadness. It’s embarrassing. I’m mortified that I look like a stupid, weak, and pathetic girl who didn’t know her pop-star boyfriend was cheating on her with silicone-injected strippers. I’m like a walking cliché.”

  “No, you’re not.” Quinn’s voice was firm. “I know you don’t believe this because right now you’re hurting, but you’re not a damn cliché, Paige. If anyone in this scenario is a cliché, it’s him. Oh, you’re a singer and you cheated on your perfect girlfriend with strippers?” She snorted. “How shocking. He’s too stupid to even get creative about it.”

  “If he’s so stupid, what does that make me?”

  “Damn it, Paige! That’s what I’m trying to get through that skull of yours. He is not you. His actions do not define you. They define him. HIM!” she shouted at me, her frustration rolling from her in waves. “They make statements about his character, not yours. How you handle yourself and how you react to all of this shit will speak volumes about you.”

  The glass door behind us slid open and Ryson called out across the yard as he walked toward us. “My two favorite ladies.”

  “I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I know you’re hurting right now, but I just really hate him and I want to kick him in the balls for being such an asshole.”

  I sucked in a quick breath and then slowly released it. Quinn’s theory was most likely right, but that didn’t stop me from feeling like complete crap. No one could deny the fact that when one half of a relationship did something tabloid-worthy, the other half usually got dragged through the mud as well.

  Ryson leaned down and planted a kiss on Quinn’s mouth before giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “How are you doing, babe?”

  I tried to force a fake smile, but failed, so I shrugged my shoulders instead.

  “I’ll kick his ass. He better not come anywhere near me, Paige, I swear. I’ll break his perfect little smug face.” He smirked as he said it and my mood lightened. The idea of Ryson beating Colin to a pulp was definitely enticing.

  “I appreciate the offer.” I hesitated, knowing he most likely meant every single word he said and that I really shouldn’t encourage him. “But he’s not worth it.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind. It would be my pleasure to teach Colin a lesson.” Ryson punched his left hand against his right palm. “Or twelve. Seriously. Just say the word.”

  “Oh Lord, Ryson. Stop. She’s had enough for one day.” Quinn kicked at him with her bare feet, and he grabbed one and started to tickle the bottom of it. She squirmed and screamed, begging him to stop.

  “Say you love me,” he teased, his fingers still prancing along her arch.

  Quinn’s lips pressed stubbornly together, and he only attacked her feet with more fervor than before.

  I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses and lay back against my chair, all too familiar with their antics.

  “Say it, Quinn, or I’ll never stop tickling you and you’ll die.”

  “You’re not the boss of me,” she huffed out between fits of laughter.

  “I beg to differ,” Ryson said, moving his hands up her sides.

  “You’re so stubborn, Quinn AmberLynn Johnson! Just say it!” I shouted as I turned my gaze in their direction and fought back my laughter.

  For as long as I could remember, Quinn and I made up fake middle names for each other and used them whenever we tried to get the other’s attention. The more ridiculous the middle name, the more fun it was.

  She bolted upright in an attempt to stop his fingers from moving and squealed to Ryson, “Okay, okay. I love you. Please stop.” Then she turned to me and said incredulously, “AmberLynn? Really?”

  I shrugged as Ryson planted a soft kiss on top of her nose and asked, “Was that really so difficult, AmberLynn?”

  Quinn frowned. “Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” he mimicked, and he wandered back inside just as my phone blared out the ringtone for Colin.

  “Ooh, give me the phone!” Quinn practically shouted as she reached for me. “Please! Please let me talk to him!” She reached toward me, nearly falling off her chair as she grabbed at m
y phone.

  “You’re not talking to him. Stop acting crazy,” I said, slapping her hands away as I pressed Ignore and breathed out in relief.

  “This isn’t acting, honey,” she drawled, waggling her eyebrows.

  I almost laughed. I’d done a lot of that today. Almost smiling. Almost laughing. Almost forgetting that my screwed-up love life was currently splashed across every tabloid and entertainment channel across the country. Squeezing my eyes closed, I couldn’t stop a few new tears that forced their way out. I sniffed and wiped them with the back of my hand.

  Quinn reached over and patted my shoulder. “Hey, don’t cry. Are you okay?”

  “I don’t want to talk to him. And as angry as I am at him right now, I’m also hurt. Is that stupid?”

  “He cheated on you, Paige. He took whatever trust you had for him and broke it. I think you’re entitled to feel hurt.”

  “I do. My heart hurts. As much as I don’t want it to because I feel so stupid about the whole thing, my heart is hurting. Every breath hurts,” I reluctantly admitted before allowing myself to let the pain flow.

  “Breakups suck.”

  “They do. Especially when you’re in the public eye like we are. Then they’re even suckier.”

  I leaned my head back against the lounge chair and let tears slide down my face as the sun continued to warm my body. The sound of water trickling in the gorgeous water feature tucked in the landscaping next to the pool soothed me, and the ocean waves crashing on the beach on the other side of the privacy wall helped me to relax.

  I had trusted Colin. Truly and completely. It made me sick to think about how wrong I’d been and how naive. My phone blared out Colin’s ringtone again, and I covered my eyes with a forearm and groaned.

  Quinn reached for it before I could stop her. “What do you want, asshat?” She scowled into the receiver, and I couldn’t help but stare at her as she spoke. “No.” She paused. “I said no. Because she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  She rolled her eyes, and her hand opened and closed in my direction as she mimicked a mouth talking. “I swear to God, Colin, if you show up here I won’t let you in. I’ll feed you to the vultures outside just dying for a piece of meat. You’ll be the meat and I’ll help them devour you whole.”