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)
Having that constant eye on me made me self-conscious.
Brix follows me past countless people who all follow me with their gaze but don’t bother to approach. I probably know half of them to some degree, but everyone knows you don’t go crazy fan on people at these parties. You’re supposed to be cool and used to being around celebrities.
We make a move to greet Denver—real name Denny—who’s in the middle of his living room talking to some actress I recognize from the latest teen franchise.
Age is weird in Hollywood, and these two are the reason.
Denver is taller than me and toned but not buff. He’s not skinny either. But his face? He is the youngest of us Eleven guys at twenty-four now, but he still looks fifteen—how old he was when we signed to the label. He has a baby face that is both adorable and disturbingly young-looking.
The actress, Heather someone, is almost thirty, but she’s playing a sixteen-year-old heroine on the big screen.
“Hey, you came.” Denver clasps my hand and brings me in for a man-hug back-slap.
“You thought I wouldn’t?”
“I suspected you might change your mind.”
“Fair call. I probably would’ve bailed if not for this guy.” I point next to me. “This is my friend-slash-bodyguard. Brix, this is Denver. Also part of Eleven. You may or may not have heard of him seeing as you thought I was an intruder in my own home and tackled me to the ground.”
Brix scowls at me, but Denver bursts out laughing.
“Shit, did that really happen?”
Brix goes to open his mouth to verify some details—probably to tell them I was holding a gun—but I beat him to it.
“Yep. He tried to attack me, so it’s something he will never live down. Ever. Even after he stops working for me, he’s going to be known as the bodyguard who crash-tackled his client.”
Brix turns to Denver. “I’ve only been working with him for a week. Is he always this dramatic?”
“Always. I don’t envy you, brother, but nice to meet you.”
The traitors ganging up on me shake hands.
“Ignore them. Clearly, they’re both insane,” I say to Heather Whatsherface. “I’m Harley.”
“I know who you are. Heather Walsh.”
“I know who you are.” Last name not withstanding.
“Is Evah here with you?” she asks. “I love her YouTube channel and would so love to meet her.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her to contact your people, but she’s at home tonight. Her fragrance launch is tomorrow, so she wanted to rest. Maybe I can get you a ticket.”
Her eyes light up. “Really? That’d be amazing. Thank you so much. Can I get a selfie with you?”
Denver cuts in. “And I think I’ve lost her for the night. Thanks.”
I chuckle. “Sorry, man.”
“Not the first time it’s happened with us. I’m going to go get a drink. Come find me later, okay?” As he backs away, he gives me a smile because he knows I’m not actually trying to steal anyone from him.
Heather looks at me with a confused scrunch in her brow. “Was that come find me later for me or you?”
I shrug. “Both?”
We take the selfie, she gushes about Evah some more, and I ask about her movie career.
Brix’s big body leaves my side at one point, and his hand subtly brushes over my lower back. He tilts his head in the direction of the bar, and I give him a nod in acknowledgment.
It’s hard to take my eyes off him, especially when he turns and smiles at me as if he knows I’m watching him walk away.
I force myself to break eye contact and lose myself in conversation, not noticing that he hasn’t come back. It’s not until we’re interrupted by a guy I don’t know pushing his way into our conversation that I realize Brix is nowhere to be found.
“Is it true a fan tried to kill you?” the guy asks.
Here we go.
I start scratching my ear while I talk in case Brix is in the bathroom and comes out to find me.
“Oh my God, what happened?” Heather asks.
“It was nothing like that.” I pull on my ear harder.
His big looming presence appears beside me and holds out a cup, and a grin splits my face. “Drink?”
“Thank you.” I go to take a sip but pause.
“I already took a sip of it for you,” Brix says in my ear quietly enough no one else can hear. His warm breath on my skin has my body responding in a way it really, really shouldn’t. Especially in public.
It makes me think about what it could be like to be with a man at a party like this and not care about reaching for his hand or kissing his cheek.
I know it would cause a big reaction, but in my fantasy, no one would blink an eye if I reached for Brix—wait … not Brix. It’s not the first time I’ve dreamed about being out, but it is the first time the faceless stranger beside me has an identity.