“Whose car is this?” I ask, as Ben opens the passenger door of a sleek black sports car for me.

“She’s mine. My buddy offered to drive her up here from L.A. last week. She’s been chilling in the garage, begging for me to ride her hard.”

I cock an eyebrow. “I think you might need to ease into her. She’s been in that garage a while.”

He laughs as I slide into the passenger seat. “I’m sure she’ll do just fine. She likes it rough,” he says, closing the door on me.

I sigh as I try to adjust my skirt and relax my muscles before Ben drops into the driver’s seat. “Do you know where we’re going?”

He smiles as he presses the ignition button and I’m blasted with hot air from the air-conditioning vents on the dash. “You text me the address for the dentist’s office.”

“Right,” I reply sheepishly, doing a very bad job of not appearing flustered by the sudden feeling that I’m on a date with my ex-boyfriend.

He lays a hand on my bare knee and gives it a shake. “Relax. We’re just having lunch, right?”

I nod, but I don’t say a word. Just having lunch. Sure.

He uses the Bluetooth on his phone to put on some music before he pulls out of his driveway. The song has a crisp high-hat and rhythmic beat familiar to many of the pop songs released these days, but this is one I’ve never heard. As soon as the vocals come in, I recognize Ben’s voice.

He glances at me as he turns on Highway 1. “Have you heard this one?”

I shake my head and focus my attention on the road in front of us. “I haven’t listened to it.”

“Not even once?” he asks, clearly disappointed.

“I haven’t listened to any of your songs for almost three years.”

He’s silent for a moment. “You mean, you haven’t listened to any of the songs on the Blink album?”

I shake my head again.

He lets out a sharp breath through pursed lips. “Wow... I wasn’t prepared for how much that would hurt.”

I sigh as I turn toward him again. “You have to understand why. I mean, people kept telling me, ‘You have to listen to this song or that song. I’m pretty sure it’s about you.’ Or, ‘It seems like all the songs are about you.’ I wanted to listen. So badly. But I thought if I listened and realized they were right, I would have to explain to them that you only did that to boost record sales. And I knew if I listened and the opposite happened, if I realized the songs weren’t about me, I would be devastated.”

He nods, straightening his posture as he refocuses his attention on the road. “Yeah, I get it. It’s just... I wrote that whole album for you. Well, Holder and I wrote it.”

I stare out the window for a moment before I respond. “How’s Holder these days?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.

“He’s Holder. Still crazy as ever, but still the best songwriter I know.” He taps his phone a few times and a piano ballad plays from the speakers. “This is the only song I wrote without Holder. It’s called ‘How About Us.’”

My stomach clenches like a white-knuckled fist as I wait for Ben’s voice to kick in. Each breath is measured as I try not to blurt out a command for him to turn it off. And when the first few words flow out of his expensive speakers, my body begins to tremble.

I clench my jaw and squeeze my eyes shut to keep from crying when the chorus kicks in and I can feel the pain in his voice. It takes a few seconds for me to realize, the music has faded away. Ben has turned down the stereo and is singing the chorus to me.

“Stop,” I whisper. “Please stop. I just… I just want to have lunch. I can’t rehash what went wrong every time we’re together or… Or I’m either going to hate you or fuck you and I’m not ready to do either of those.”

He smiles. “I’d rather you fuck me, but I don’t want to take my chances with you hating me again. So I’ll stop…for now. If you promise me you’ll listen to the album just once. That’s all I ask.”

I lean my head back against the headrest. “Okay. Just once, though.”

Ben drops me off in the backlot of the dentist’s office in the San Francisco Financial District. “What time should I pick you up?” he asks, grabbing his phone out of the cup holder.

I reach for the door handle. “I’ll text you when I’m ready. We’re having lunch with Michelle and Allie at two o’clock at Homage.”

He narrows his eyes at me for a moment as if he’s thinking hard about something. “Is Homage a popular place or is it pretty chill?”

I smile as I realize he’s asking what the paparazzi situation will be like. “It’s popular, but mostly with hipsters who will actively pretend they don’t know who you are because you’re way too mainstream. Plus, the restaurant’s tucked away in the back of a tiny alley. It will be busy because a lot of people have the day after Fourth of July off, but we have a reservation and I’ve asked them to seat us away from the windows.”

A huge smile spreads across his face. “That’s why I love you,” he replies. “Now go get your teeth cleaned, young lady.”

“Yes, papa,” I reply, pushing the door open.

“Have on me,” he says, shaking his head as he adjusts the crotch of his jeans. “Don’t say that kind of stuff at lunch. I really don’t want to have to play hide-the-boner in front of our friends.”

I roll my eyes and slam the car door shut, but I walk toward the back entrance of the dental office with a huge grin on my face.

Once I’ve checked in with the receptionist in Dr. Wahl’s office, I take a seat across from a redhead who’s reading a tabloid magazine. My stomach drops when I see a picture of Ben on the cover. It looks like he’s walking through an airport and the headline reads, “Ben Hayes Walks Off Set!” I tear my gaze away from the picture and find the girl staring at me.

“OMG. Did you hear about this?” she says, pointing at the cover. “Apparently, he walked out on that new Marvel movie they’re filming in Iceland, and…” She looks around to see if anyone else is listening to her, then she leans forward. “His engagement to that one chick whose name I can never remember was a sham.”

“Becca,” I mutter.

“What?”

“Becca Kingsley. Her name is—Never mind, can I see that?”

“I don’t know how she could even do that. If I had the chance to be with him, I would take it in a heartbeat. He gives snap backs and tattoos a whole new meaning,” she says with a chortle, then she narrows her eyes as she slowly reaches forward to hand me the magazine. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

“Not unless you’re from Nebraska. I’m just visiting,” I reply, holding the magazine up to hide my face as I flip through the pages in my search for the article about Ben.

I roll my eyes at the mention of Frank working with DC Comics, which obviously has nothing to do with why Ben walked off the set. Of course, they’ll say anything to sell magazines. I skim a few more paragraphs until I see Becca’s name.

I close the magazine and stare at the cover for a moment. By the peeved look on his face, Ben is obviously fighting the urge to punch someone as he’s surrounded by photographers at Santa Rosa airport. Is this the life I want? I shake my head as I realize that I may have no say in the matter.

With Ben living next door to me again, I’m going to be in the tabloids and all over the internet whether we get back together or not. Until I can afford to move out of my parents’ house, I’m going to have to be on my toes, always looking out for camera lenses and camera phones pointed in my direction.

I pull a pressed powder compact out of my purse and look at my face, disappointed when I see a new pimple sprouting on my chin and dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. I need to do better than this. As I begin applying a fresh layer of powder to my face, I peel my lips back to look at my teeth. Maybe I should get my teeth whitened.