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Still, I had planned to come out with this anyway. I was going to tell the rest of my family—my freaking grandmother—first and go from there. Now it feels dirty instead of prideful, and I can’t stop the burning in my eyes from tears I won’t let fall. Fuckers. Fuck this guy. What does he know about me? About my life or what I write?

Fuck him and his archaic, misogynist opinions.

My phone buzzes again, this time with notifications from my group chat with the girls.

Kenna: Keegan, what the motherfuck is happening? *Attached video*

I don’t have to click it to know it’s the one of us from the street.

Wren: Who the fuck posted this shit?

Me: Is it as bad as I think it is?

Sorel: I mean, it’s not good. It shows your encounter with Alden and Loomis calling you his girlfriend, and then you questioning it after.

Me: Fuck. I figured that’s what it was going to be. Anything about my author stuff?

Kenna: Your pen name is on another post with pictures and highlighted text from your books. They’re sex scenes with certain words scratched out. It’s linked to your real name.

Me: Well, that’s a total ass-fuck, isn’t it? Shit!

Katy: Breathe, Keegs. We’ll figure this out.

Tinsley: Has Loomis seen it yet?

Me: Not yet. We’re about to land, but I’ll show him.

My heart hammers as I open the link Kenna sent. Alden is standing over me, all six-foot-something of him vibrating with anger and Loomis is beside me in his ridiculous disguise with his hand on my hip telling Alden he’s my boyfriend. He cuts away, and then it’s just me and Loomis talking, but you can’t hear much.

Except for my question, “Boyfriend?”

Loomis’s response is muffled but he’s laughing.

Crap.

Bile climbs up the back of my throat, and my hands tremble. The Boston skyline sprawls beneath us, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy and so terrified to see it in my life.

“Loomis,” I manage, my voice a thin thread of sound beneath the engine noise.

He looks over, those gray eyes shifting from distracted to concerned in the space of a heartbeat. “What is it, love?”

I turn my phone toward him, unable to form the words. He shifts Fen tighter against his chest as he leans forward and takes the phone from my trembling hand so he can watch it. His face flickers with a million emotions—confusion, recognition, fear.

“Fuck,” he whispers, a word that sounds both more elegant and more condemning in his accent. My phone pings with a text that makes Loomis’s jaw clench. He tosses it back onto the seat beside me. “Alden is texting you.”

I pick it up and read it, ignoring his contemptuous tone.

Alden: Reporters are contacting me at work and are outside the building. What should I tell them?

God, this got out of control fast.

Me: Nothing. Say nothing. Please. And this person outed you too if they’re already contacting you and surrounding your building.

Alden: So it seems. Damn, Keegan, this is a real mess.

He’s not wrong. I read the texts to Loomis so he knows what’s happening.

“How bad is this for you?” I ask him.