“Wait.”
I turn.
Really turn this time.
Look at him.
Not just at him—but at him.
The tattoos.
The confidence.
The way he holds himself like he’s used to being watched.
Recognized.
Wanted.
And suddenly, it clicks.
“Oh my God.”
My voice comes out way quieter than Bella’s.
“You’re DJ Mars?”
His mouth curves, just slightly.
Not cocky.
Not obnoxious.
Just aware.
“Uh, depends,” he says. “Am I in trouble?”
I stare at him.
At this man—this global superstar—who was just standing behind me while I flashed my Berenstain Bears underwear to the entire neighborhood.
He called me linda.
I backed into him.
Flirted with him.
Repeatedly.
My brain short-circuits.
“Are you—” I gesture vaguely. “—serious right now?”
Bella is practically vibrating beside me.
“I knew it! I knew it the second I saw him! Aunt Adrianna is going to freak out—wait until I tell?—”
She spins and bolts into the house like a missile.