Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
But then he looked at me with something worse than disgust in his eyes. He stared at me with sympathy and pity on his face. My stomach did a backflip, and that’s the last thing I need.
No gross mushy feelings, please.
So yeah, professional distance is good.
Making him do silly things is even better. Not only do they provide me with entertainment, but he knows they’re complete bullshit.
Maybe that’ll keep him from feeling sorry for me.
That aside, knowing he was in the house made me feel safe enough to fall asleep and stay asleep.
For the first time since the break-in, I’ve been able to catch up.
Which is probably why at midday, I’m woken up by my bodyguard asking if I’m dead. He pulls my curtains open, letting the sunlight burn my retinas as I try to wake up properly.
I roll onto my stomach and shove my head under the pillow. “You’re a pretty shitty bodyguard if you have to ask if I’m still alive.”
The deep, warm chuckle from the overgrown man makes my cock twitch.
Damn him.
“I brought you a breakfast burrito. A peace offering after starting on the wrong foot yesterday.”
I was thinking—hoping—he was the thing that smelled like bacon. They should make bacon-scented cologne.
The promise of food is enough to get me sitting up.
I stare at the plate. “You haven’t taken a bite yet.”
“I’m not going to poison you. It’d be counterintuitive when I’m paid to protect you.”
“Counterintuitive, maybe, but until proven otherwise, everyone in my life is now a potential psychopath.”
Brix relents and takes a large bite. Melted cheese drips onto his chin, and my immediate thought is to lick it off. Luckily, I’m sitting, he’s standing, and I’m nowhere near his mouth to actually do it because that would be mortifying.
“You know,” he says, talking around the food, “you’re gonna have to get over your trust issues sooner or later. One break-in doesn’t make everyone else a potential attacker.”
“Oh, you sweet summer child. You think my trust issues come from the break-in? I’ve had trust issues since my momager took every cent of money I earned before I was eighteen. They got worse when the person I thought was the love of my life told me I was someone to fill the loneliness while on tour. Everyone uses me for something, only now, we have the added potential for homicide. Fun times.” I shovel the entire breakfast burrito into my mouth because I’m starving, while Brix watches on. “What?” A piece of egg flies from my mouth. Oops.
Brix shakes his head. “Sorry. Nothing. Not my place.”
I swallow the chunk of food. “If we’re going to be working closely together, and I have to spend one hundred forty-four hours with you a week, you damn well better say whatever you’re thinking or we’re going to be walking on eggshells around each other.”
“I was just thinking for someone who seemingly has everything, your life is kinda …”
“Sad. You can say it. My life is depressing as fuck.”
“Sorry.”
I shrug. “Hey, I chose it. And it’s not all bad. I have money, an awesome house …”
“Evah.”
My gaze flies to his. “Right. I have Evah.”
“How did you two meet?”
“It’s an adorable story.” I put on my public-ready smile because this is a bullshit story I’ve told the press a thousand times. “Back when I was living in Kansas and trying to make it as an artist, she’d come see my shows. Whether it was busking or school dances, she was always there. She was my first fan.”
“Huh.”
“Huh? That’s all you have to say? Everyone loves that story.”
“Everyone loves fiction.”
I frown. “How do you know that story’s not real?”
“I don’t want to give away my secrets.”
“Are you, like, some walking, talking lie detector?”
Brix smiles, and it softens his hard features. “No. But you have a serious tell. Your cheek kinda twitches, and a dimple appears on one side of your face.” His finger almost brushes over my cheek, but he pulls his hand back. “Same thing happened last night when you said Evah snores. Which she doesn’t.”
“How would you know?” My voice rises.
Brix puts his hand up to get me to calm down. “Before I went to sleep, I did a perimeter check and went through the whole house. No snoring.”
“The walls are thick. You probably didn’t hear her.”
“Mm. Maybe.”
There’s a reason I don’t want my new bodyguards to know the truth about Evah and me. I hate stooping to cheap celebrity publicity stunts, and I hate most of all that I’ve had to fight this battle ever since signing with Joystar Records.
Part of me thinks I should come out and tell everyone the rumors about me are true and let the cards fall where they may.
The other part, the business-oriented, music-loving part, reminds me that without my career, I’m nothing.
I’m no one.
I may hate being the Harley Valentine sometimes, but it’s all I have.