When you are utterly distracted and have had several awkward encounters, it is a proven fact that the people around you think they are the reason you are acting weird and take it upon themselves to try and fix it, even though they don't know what the actual problem is.

So soon, you have a bunch of people being extra nice to you and hardly notice, because again, you are too distracted by the fact that either your co-star is being blackmailed, or you are being blackmailed, and you aren't sure which one it is.

The rest of the shoot in Hawaii was a blur, my scenes didn't include Luke, which gave me time to figure out how to handle the blackmail situation. Should I tell him about the note? Would he think it was his? Or would he assume it was mine, and distrust me again?

The heavy feeling inside grew stronger and stronger as the shoot days continued, making it impossible to think about much when the camera wasn't on me. Dustin has gotten me another phone, and Lavender had made a point of checking before barricading the door each night.

She had kept to herself, not ignoring me, but lost in her own mind, focused on getting through the shoot without having any run ins with Luke. We had that in common. We developed a silent companionship, eating snacks while watching old movies, neither one of us saying much in general and even less about the article that had splashed across social media since my hotel night in Luke's room.

The familiar font and logo burned me. I hadn't written anything about that night. Dawn shouldn't have known. The article shouldn't have existed at all. The post proved my suspicions that someone else was giving her information about me, and that made keeping secrets near impossible.

Dawn had changed our agreement in a flippant text that next morning, insisting I no longer had to write anything, so long as I kept causing drama as well as I was doing. She actually praised me, saying that purposefully pulling Luke into the pool, and tricking him into letting me into his room was brilliantly evil.

I felt sick, nearly breaking my new phone, angry and feeling trapped by a game with rules and players I couldn't see. So, trying to keep what little control I had left, I ignored Luke, determined to keep him and myself out of more articles. It was the only way I could think to protect Luke and Carter.

We finished shooting in Hawaii and instead of taking the jet back with Luke, I went back with the others, needing space and time to process, lost in thought, making a mental to do list of all the things I needed to do when I got back to reality, wishing I could continue pretending that a stressful world wasn't waiting for me.

...

"Then we ate dessert nachos!" Carter said, grinning widely as he set Bowser's terrarium back on the table by the window in our apartment. He had spent the entire drive from Katherine Dalton's house describing every meal they had eaten while I was gone, which had been a ridiculous amount.

I raised a brow as I dropped my bag on the ground, tired after lugging it up five flights of stairs. "What are dessert nachos?" It sounded like something Tate would invent.

It must run in the Dalton family if his aunt is inventing new foods.

"You make cinnamon and sugar tortilla chips, put vanilla ice cream on them, chocolate syrup and add any toppings you want!" Carter explained as he put a leaf of lettuce in Bowser's terrarium, waiting for him to eat. "It's like nacho toppings but sweet!"

Yeah. Tate totally inherited his love of food from his aunt.

Carter continued to rattle off all the toppings he added to his dessert nachos, probably still on a sugar high, as I made my way to the bedroom, dragging my bag after me. The smile in his voice was contagious. Hearing him breathless from talking so fast made me want to send Katherine a thousand bouquets of flowers for bringing my brother that kind of joy. His week had been filled with video games, books, star gazing, two new best friends in Aiden's sister Iz and Delle's sister Misty, and all the food he could ask for.

He had been safe and loved, the world of paparazzi scares forgotten. It made it hard to take him home, especially when the mob of paparazzi continued to surround my apartment building when we got back, shattering the illusion of peace we had scrapped together.

"I added chocolate chip cookies to mine!" Carter said, his voice growing louder.

Yeah, the kid is totally having a sugar high.

Carter's sudden scream as something crashed in the living room, stopped me cold. "EM!" he gasped. Running into the living room, I found him on the ground, clutching Bowser to his chest, eyes wide as he stared at our now broken living room window, shards of glass scattered along the ground around him.

I crouched before him, scanning for injury. "Carter? What happened? Are you okay?" My voice was surprisingly calm.

Carter wouldn't look at me, staring past me, towards our now broken window.

"Em..." he whispered, eyes wide.

A chill ran down my spine at the sudden sudden sensation of being watched. I spun, fear burning through my body, heart beating wildly.

Someone stood on the small balcony on the other side of the broken window, staring inside, camera in hand.

Carter scrambled back, face white as the figure took pictures, trying to get a shot of us inside. "EM! Look over here!"

Pulling Carter to his feet, I tucked him behind me, glaring at the person on the balcony, body shaking, too stunned to do anything. The camera flashed again. "Em! What can you tell us about the rumors that you spent the night in Luke's hotel room? Are you two dating?"

I took a step back, moving for the front door, doing my best to keep Carter out of sight.

HE WILL NOT BECOME AN ARTICLE HEADLINE.

The idea of it sent bile crawling up my throat.

"Em?" Carter asked, his body shaking behind me. I chanced a glance back at him, only to see tears streaming down his frightened face. That was all it took for me to transform from terrified to infuriated.

When the figure attempted to climb in through our broken window, I picked up one of our lamps and threw it, hitting the figure square in the face causing them to stumble backward.

"Super soaker," I said, eyes still on the figure. Carter scrambled over to the kitchen counter and tossed me our ridiculously large water gun. One that I had allowed him to rinse off dishes with when he needed cheering up recently.

"You picked the wrong girl to mess with," I said to the intruder. Then I sprayed the person with water, sending them falling backward through the open window. They hit the balcony and dropped their camera, sending it flying onto the sidewalk below with a crash.

I pulled Carter towards the front door. "Stay with me," I said, tucking the super soaker into the back of my pants and pulling him out of our apartment with the speed of a girl living in the middle of the zombie apocalypse.

Throwing the door closed, I bolted for the stairs, hoping no one else would be brave enough to come after us.

"What's going on?" Carter shouted as we raced down the stairs.

I had no idea. Was their a second article I missed? The person had mentioned me spending the night in Luke's hotel room. They already knew that, so why act now? Why had it caused them to become so aggressive in getting answers?

"The paparazzo will follow us. We need to move." Carter struggled to keep up as we reached the third floor, but I kept us moving, my hand steady on his arm, ready to catch him if he slipped.

"But our stuff!" he said, his voice wobbly.

"Do you have Bowser?" I asked over the sound of our echoing footsteps on the metal staircase.

"Ye-es," he said, breathless as we reached the first floor.

"We can replace everything else."

Scrambling into the parking garage underneath the apartment, we dove into the car, gasping for breath.

"Where do we go?" Carter asked, his face in shadow, his eyes glistening with fear under the parking lot lights.

I have no idea.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed Katherine's number. A few seconds later, Tate answered. "Hey, Em! What's up? You okay?"

"Is Katherine there?" I asked, ignoring his question. I wasn't okay and I didn't have the time to delve into all the reasons why I wasn't.

Tate hesitated for a beat. "We are having a situation at her house. Someone broke in. Aiden got arrested when he pummeled the guy who did it. Needless to say, things are... messy over here."

"Is Katherine okay?"

Tate laughed. "Oh she's just mad that Aiden is getting in trouble. She scolded him all the way to the squad car."

I tried to wrap my head around it. "Um... is that a normal thing for you guys?"

Tate snorted. "Define normal."

"I was going to ask if Carter and I could crash there. We had a similar situation happen on our end. But I guess that answers my question." I glanced at Carter who had his head placed against the window, forehead drenched in sweat, brow creased. He didn't run very often, the risk of falling and getting cut too high.

The mere fact that we had to run away from our home left me near tears. Tate was quiet, tone dangerous for a moment, hinting to a darker side to the normally chipper guy. "They are getting out of hand. I don't blame Aiden for losing it on them."

With a quick sigh, Tate's more upbeat tone was back, determined to help. "I'd normally say to call Delle, but she's staying with Allie and her apartment is pretty full with all three sisters staying there. Let me think—"

His voice cut off for a moment and I heard him shout. "No, Aunt Katherine! You can't invite them over! We can't even stay here! It's a crime scene!"

After arguing with his aunt for a few more seconds, he came back on the phone. "Call Luke. The dude's apartment is huge. Me, my Aunt and Iz are bunking with Andrew or else I'd suggest you go there."

I opened my mouth to protest. But Tate continued. "Hey, I gotta go. Apparently I have to give a statement to a police officer about Aiden kicking that paparazzo guys butt. You have Luke's number right? You know what, I'll give Luke a call."

I shook my head wildly, my eyes wide. "That's okay, I—"

"It's no problem! Happy to help!"

"I'll just stay at a hotel—"

"Don't be silly, paparazzi are really good at finding hotel reservations and camping in hallways. I'll let Luke know you're coming."

Then the line went dead, and my list of potential places to stay went down to one actor, who I had been avoiding after he had made it clear that daytime kisses were a definite plus for our relationship.

...

Carter clutched Bowser tightly as he stared up at Luke's apartment building, the tallest building in Los Angeles. The contrast between Carter's wide eyed stare and Bowser's ambivalence was comical as I walked us through the front lobby door.

"What is this place?" Carter asked, eyes wide as he took in the fancy marble floors and large glass walls.

"Luke's place is on the top floor," I answered.

"I can see my reflection in the floor!" Carter replied, his voice echoing as we walked.

The man in the slick black suit at the reception desk watched us approach from behind the front desk before his eyes landed on Bowser, narrowing.

"You can't bring that thing in here."

Carter looked up at the man, clutching Bowser closer. "But... he's my pet."

"I don't care. That PET..." he said, looking down his nose at Bowser with a look of utter disgust. "...isn't allowed—"

I leaned forward, grumpy and tired as i stared at Suit Man, fingers splayed across the reception desk. "Look dude, this little guy is with us. He goes where we go and if you have a problem with that, I will lick this desk and cover your suit with more grease than any pizza you've ever seen."

Suit Man's eyes went wide, some of the color draining from his face at my threat to his clothes and personal space.

"That won't be necessary," a voice said to our right. I turned my head just enough to see Luke, leaning against the doorway to the now open elevator. "I'll make sure their vicious turtle doesn't destroy anything Bert."

Luke gestured to the elevator behind him. "Let's go."

Carter beamed. "Luke!" He threw his arms around Luke, surprising me. After a beat of shock from Luke, he scooped Carter up in a bear hug. "How you doing kid?"

"Terrible. Do you have food?" Carter asked, voice muffled by Luke's embrace, clearly having spent far too much time with the Daltons.

Luke laughed, placing Carter back down on his feet. "I ordered some."

The entire ride up in the elevator was filled with chatter. Carter proudly held up Bowser, showing him off to Luke, who was a captive audience. "He doesn't do much, but he gives the best annoyed expressions."

Carter offered for Luke to hold Bowser, and in between moments of bonding over the grumpy little turtle, Luke's eyes caught mine, checking in to see if I was okay without saying a word.

I looked away to keep from crying, embarrassed by how utterly rattled I was. I was far from okay.

...

This visit to Luke's home was a complete contrast to my last one. Not only was I an invited guest, but Luke wasn't half naked covered in marinara sauce and he wasn't glaring at me like I had broken into his house.

Carter walked around the living room, quietly inspecting each detail before holding up Bowser so he could get a closer look at something he found particularly interesting.

"So do you normally threaten to lick counter tops when people piss you off?" Luke asked, as he walked towards the open floor plan kitchen that sat off to the left.

I rolled my eyes, pushing off the image of broken glass, of Carter's terrified scream. "Just the special ones. The guy down stairs is a very special case," I answered in what I hoped was a light tone.

He opened the fridge, gesturing to several drink options. "Poor Bert. He's going to be terrified of you forever." I heard the smile in his voice, his back to me.

"Water please."

"Soda please!" Carter shouted from the living room.

"You probably have diabetes from all the sugar Katherine has been feeding you. Humor me and stick to water for a while."

Carter snorted as he gently placed Bowser down on Luke's coffee table. "Diabetes is the least of my health problems."

I sighed, sitting down at the stool next to the kitchen island, running my fingers through my hair, not finding his classic response to be remotely funny. I had hit a wall of emotional exhaustion and was trying to block out Carter's terrified face. The sound of shattering glass. The sound of his shaking voice as we ran down the stairs.

Luke silently pushed a water bottle over to me from the other side of the kitchen island before walking over to Carter with a water bottle and settling into an easy conversation with him. They went through Luke's pile of video games, ranking them from their favorite to least favorite, giving me a moment at the kitchen island to sink my head onto the cool marble top, and wrap my head around what had happened.

I must have dozed off, because when I lifted my head, Carter was snuggled into the couch, clutching a blanket, engrossed in a movie as several people shuffled around Luke's home, carrying bags— my bag and Carter's. The one's we had abandoned at home when someone had broken into our window. The men wore suits, following Luke's instruction as he motioned for them to take our stuff to different rooms down the hall and set up the rooms for guests.

Luke spoke with authority, a commanding presence that spoke of a polished upbringing. Every word taken as law. It was the first time that the name 'Walker' was evident in his very bones, in every gesture, in his tone. The movie star persona shucked and replaced with a man who had been born into wealth, dripping with it in every movement.

The men deferred to him with silent respect, melting into their tasks with ease, a choreography that they had done with Luke many times.

Someone else came through the elevator door and stopped, staring at me with surprise. Jake, Pizza Nerd's regular delivery guy's eyes went wide as he gawked at me sitting in Luke's kitchen, drinking a water bottle from his fridge.

"Um... Hi..."

"Jake. Over there." Luke gestured to the coffee table next to Carter and handed him several large bills before his focus went back to giving orders to the others prepping the guest rooms. Jake unfroze and dropped off the pizza, sending me a raised brow as he made for the elevator without a word, his face making it clear that he would hound me for answers later.

I offered him a shrug, unsure of how to even begin to explain why I was in Luke Walker's house. Then Jake and the men in suits were gone and the apartment fell into silence as Carter dove into the pizza, eyes glued to the television, Bowser nestled comfortably on his lap.

I blinked, rubbing my face, self conscious of the mark along my cheek that falling asleep on the marble counter left behind. "What's going on? How'd you get our stuff?"

Luke gestured to Carter who burst into laughter as someone on the television slid into a wall before falling backward into a birthday cake. "He gave me your spare key. Had a few people pick up your things so you wouldn't be stuck wearing the same clothes tomorrow. Leads to less gossip talk."

I rubbed my eyes, chasing away the sleep. "I thought you didn't care about those things."

He settled down on the opposite side of the kitchen island, his eyes softening. "You do though." He gestured toward Carter. "He does."

When I didn't say anything, he searched my face. "How are you?"

"I can't answer that," I admitted, glancing at Carter.

Not when he needs me to be the strong one.

I swallowed hard, finally taking a moment to actually, fully look at Luke. "Thank you."

"You can stay as long as you need."

I shook my head. "I don't want to impose."

"You aren't," he said gently.

I looked towards the elevator where the men in suits disappeared through. "It seemed like a lot of work."

For the first time since arriving, Luke looked... self conscious. As if suddenly realizing how managing everything— everyone, must have looked. He pushed off of the kitchen island, somewhat guarded as he made his way towards the living room.

"We better take some of that pizza before Carter eats it all."

Carter looked tempted to horde the pizza box, but didn't protest when Luke plucked up a slice and ate half of it in one bite.

...

Carter burrowed deep under the covers of his guest room, looking tiny in the king size bed, grinning sleepily. "I like it here."

Settling down on the edge of his bed, I offered him a sad smile. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay long."

He looked up at me with a furrowed brow, fighting sleep. "Just tell him. I like him."

I was half tempted to sink into the covers and pretend I didn't hear him. To let him live in the illusion that this was a place he could count on long term. But that wasn't a good idea. It wasn't fair because my job, my past was going to ruin everything if I didn't keep us focused.

"It's not that easy kid."

"Well that's dumb," he said past a yawn. "It should be easy. You should let me be in charge of your life. I make great decisions."

I smiled. "Not a chance, Carter."

He blinked slowly up at me. "I'd be a great overlord."

I stood up and brushed his hair out of his face, fighting a laugh. "Not risking it. Night"

He turned onto his side. "Night."

Back in the living room, I plucked up the empty pizza box and water bottles, cleaning up after Carter.

"You've been ignoring me, Bermuda."

I pretended that Luke's nickname for me, which sounded almost obscene when it came out of his mouth, didn't send a tingle down my spine and continued cleaning.

"Not ignoring."

"Avoiding. Evading. Dodging. All words with the same conclusion," Luke replied, taking the trash out of my hands. "For the final days we were in Hawaii, you'd see me and make it your mission to go the opposite way." He shot me an unreadable look. "I can only assume that I made you uncomfortable."

"You do make me uncomfortable," I said, glancing up at him for a brief moment, taking in the way he looked in the moonlight streaming through his large windows before yanking my gaze away, searching for something else to clean up. "But you're not the reason I'm a little distracted."

He seemed surprised with my honesty, but remained quiet, seeing if I would offer more. I began to wipe down the coffee table.

"You don't have to do that."

"I do."

"Just sit," Luke said.

I shook my head, my fingers shaking as I continued to tackle the coffee table with ferocity. Luke watched, silent as I continued. Then he slowly reached for my hands, pulled them away from the coffee table and gave them a squeeze.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that today," he said softy.

I glared down at our hands, trying to push away the feelings that began to bubble up, coaxed forward by his kind words. "I've never been so scared. I've never seen Carter so—" My voice broke, my strength and steadiness finally running out.

With Carter asleep, and my futile attempt to stay busy, stolen, I burst into tears, sinking into the couch, no longer able to stand, too tired to feign strength. Luke's arms wrapped around me, keeping the pieces of me together.

The threads of my sanity that had begun to unravel stayed connected, frayed but linked. In a moment where I couldn't be strong anymore, he became an anchor, strong and steady in the storm of my life.

His gesture, the gentleness in his touch made me cry harder. I knew letting him be there for me was a mistake. I knew letting Carter get attached was a mistake. I knew every moment since I first walked into his house that first time was a mistake. And yet, I gripped him tight, selfishly needing someone else's strength, even if it was going to destroy everything so much more fiercely later.

---

Thank you for reading chapter twenty six! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

EM is staying with Luke and Carter is getting attached. Will Em follow Carter's advice and just tell Luke about her side job?

Who was the black mail note actually for?

How long will Em stay with Luke?

What will happen next?

CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever stayed at a friends house? How was the experience?