Page 48 of You Rock My World
The words glare at me from the screen like flashing warning signs, piling up in the comment section of Billie’s post, multiplying by the second.
They’re not true, but that doesn’t matter.
Not to the people who are eating this up, dissecting every frame of the kiss, every lyric Dorian has ever written, every moment of his marriage to Billie.
The narrative has already run away from us, and I’m sitting here, watching it slip further out of reach.
I don’t know what terrifies me more—the world discovering us or Dorian realizing how scared I really am.
Because I know how these things go.
Once the internet gets its teeth into something, it doesn’t let go.
* * *
Hours later, once everyone but me has left, Dorian’s house is quieter than it’s been all day.
The constant stream of meetings, crisis calls, and statements to be drafted has finally ended.
I should be exhausted. Instead, the adrenaline keeps my pulse jacked too high, the excess blood fizzling under my skin.
In the big living room, I curl up on the couch, taking a second to breathe.
A massive Christmas tree stands in the corner, glittering with ornaments and warm white lights.
It’s the third one I’ve counted so far in his house—one in the foyer, another outside in the garden, and now this.
Because why stop at one when you can have three? Dorian doesn’t do anything halfway.
He flops down beside me, stretching his arms across the back of the couch, too relaxed for someone who has spent the day putting out fires. Dorian nudges my foot with his. “You look like you could use a distraction.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Mmm? What did you have in mind?”
He smirks, all lazy charm. “I bet I can make you laugh in under ten seconds.”
I cross my arms. “You absolutely cannot. Not today.”
“Oh, that’s cute. You think you have a say.” He clears his throat, straightens up, then looks me dead in the eye. “Picture me with baby bangs.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. “Damn it.”
He grins. “See? Too easy.”
The tension isn’t gone, but it’s softened under his ridiculousness. He knows what he’s doing, peeling my mind from the spiral I’ve been stuck in.
And it works.
I shake my head, still laughing, and somehow my knee ends up brushing his. Dorian registers the change and he’s not teasing anymore as he scoops up my legs and moves them on his lap, pulling me close so that I end up nestled against his side.
I don’t resist the shift as his fingers hook around my ankle, his thumb circling over the bone and shooting tingles up my leg.
Above, with the hand still draped over the couch, he catches a lock of my hair.
He twists it once, then again. He keeps twisting my hair as if he isn’t aware he’s doing it.
I wet my lips, and his gaze drops, tracking the movement.
His fingers unwind from my hair only to skim lower, his knuckles grazing the side of my face, light as a breath.
When he looks back up at me, a silent question swirls in his irises: Will you stop me if I kiss you?
I won’t. I can’t. Not now that I know what he tastes like, how his mouth moves.
I don’t mean to, but I lean in closer. And so does he. His grip tightens over my ankle as if to say, Stay .
I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I keep still as his nose brushes mine. His lips part, and I tilt my head, ready to claim his mouth—when his phone rings.
Loud. Obnoxious. Crashing through the moment like a wrecking ball.
Dorian groans but doesn’t pull back. His forehead drops against mine, with a frustrated, “Seriously?”
I bite my lip, exhaling. “You should take it.”
“I’m a little busy right now.”
“How many people have your personal number?”
He sighs, eyes half-lidded, mouth an inch from mine. “Only a few.”
“Then shouldn’t you answer, in case it’s something urgent?”
“They can leave a message.” The phone stops ringing, and he smiles. “See? Problem solved.”
He hasn’t even finished speaking when the ringtone starts again.
Dorian closes his eyes and curses under his breath. “This better be fucking life or death.” Then he smacks a chaste kiss on my lips, and mutters, “Later.”
Dorian grabs his phone off the coffee table, barking, “What?”
I hear Tessa’s voice on the other side of the line, urgent and clipped, even before he puts her on speaker. “Billie just dropped a new single.”
Dorian straightens, his face darkening. “So what?”
“It’s a diss song. You should listen to it.”
I stiffen.
“Okay, Tess, thanks. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
Dorian and I exchange a look before he pulls up a streaming service. While he presses play, I pull up the lyrics to read them on my phone.
(Oh, you thought I was done?)
You traded fire for smoke, baby, look where you landed.
A shallow spark that fizzles—barely worth being branded.
Tried to paint your new picture, but it’s cracking at the seams,
Your frame’s all shiny, but it’s holding broken dreams.
You said you found your better, but the better’s all fake.
Keep telling yourself it’s love—it’s more like a mistake.
I leveled up while you’re still stuck in the past,
With your just-see life—it’s never gonna last.
She got a name that says just fine,
But I’m the rare find that you left behind.
Whoo-ooh-ooh
Whoo-ooh-ooh-ooooh
She got a name that says just fine,
But I’m the rare find that you left behind.
Just see through the lies you tell yourself now,
I’m the storm you couldn’t handle, she’s the drizzle you allow.
You’re playing it safe, but safe’s so dull.
Keep chasing shadows while I’m running the world.
She’s a paperback story—nothing deep, nothing real.
An empty shell with a bargain-bin feel.
You put her on a pedestal like she’s your queen,
But your crown looks crooked, and your kingdom’s routine.
I’m the plot twist you never saw coming.
She’s your quiet night; I’m the fire that’s stunning.
So go ahead, settle down, play your role.
But you’ll never find me in her paper-thin soul.
She got a name that’s easy to rhyme,
But nothing about her’s worth my time.
Just see through the lies you tell yourself now,
I’m the storm you couldn’t handle, she’s the drizzle you allow.
You’re playing it safe, but safe’s so dull.
Keep chasing shadows while I’m running the world.
This ain’t me bitter; this is me free,
Living my best life while you’re stuck on repeat.
Keep the drama, keep the games,
I’ll keep shining while you throw out names.
So just see me now, higher than you could dream,
No regrets, baby—I’m the one and only queen.
You settled for average, but that’s not my style,
I’m the one you’ll remember, mile after mile.
Just see—oh, you’ll see,
I’m the lesson you’ll never be free.
When the song ends, Dorian shakes his head. “This is pathetic.”
I don’t respond. Because I’m too busy panicking.
“She knows,” I whisper.
Dorian frowns. “What?”
“Billie knows who I am.”
“Josie, it’s just a bad pop song.”
“No.” I shake my head hard. “The title. ‘Just See.’ It’s basically Josie. ‘Your just-see life’?”
He blinks.
“And the pre-chorus—‘She got a name that says just fine’—it’s basically a different spelling of Josephine.” I wave a hand. “Even if the pronunciation is different. She knows.”
Incomprehensibly, Dorian smiles. “Wait. Are you telling me your real name is Josephine ?”
I groan. “Dorian.”
His lips twitch. “How did I not know that?”
I swat his arm. “Be serious.”
He bites back a grin. “Okay, Josephine ,” he says, voice teasing but eyes soft. “I’m being very serious.”
“No, you’re not. And I’m worried. What is your ex-wife going to do?”
“Nothing.” Dorian pulls me close to him in a side hug and kisses my temple. “I won’t let her do anything to you.”
This time, my phone goes off with an alarm, a reminder that I have to go pick up Penny from ballet practice.
We stand and Dorian walks me to the front door. “I’ll call before bed.”
I smile, the panic in my chest easing a little. “Okay. I’ll text you when I’m home.”
I turn to leave, but before I can go, he catches my hand.
“And Josie…”
I glance back.
He tugs me closer, his grip gentle but firm as he whispers, “I almost forgot this.”
And then he kisses me. Thoroughly, unrelentingly, turning me into a wobbling, shaking mess as I walk to my car.