I watch as my manager leaves me alone with the two behemoths.
They’re both kind of scary-looking, but apparently my dick likes that.
Who knew?
“I’m gonna take off too,” Brix says. “But I’ll be back soon.”
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Getting my life in order if I’m going to be away from it for months.”
“Sorry for taking you away from your real life,” I say. It comes out a little sarcastic, but I don’t mean it to. It’s annoying that I have to interrupt someone else’s life so I can feel safe.
“He has no life,” Iris says. “You’re not taking him away from anything.”
Brix doesn’t even give Iris the satisfaction of reacting to his jab. He turns on his heel and says, “I’ll be back in a few hours,” as if Iris never said anything at all.
As soon as he’s out the door, I feel Iris’s gaze from across the room.
Nothing says awkward like facing the guy you were pointing a gun at not five minutes ago. Unloaded or not.
“So, how does this full-time bodyguard thing work, anyway?” I ask.
Iris shrugs. “You tell us. We’re not exactly … trained in protecting.”
I frown. “What are you trained in?”
“Killing.”
My eyes widen, and Iris breaks into laughter.
“We’re all ex-military at Mike Bravo.”
“Mike Bravo,” I repeat.
“The company we work for.”
“The security firm?” That’s what Gideon said they were.
Iris smirks. “Sure. Look, we’ve faced a lot scarier situations than your break-in. We’ll have no problem making sure no one gets to you, but this will go a lot smoother if Gideon has instructions or protocols for us to follow.”
“Umm, I don’t think he left anything.” I search the kitchen countertops and then the coffee table in the living room, but there’s nothing.
“We could come up with our own protocol,” Iris suggests.
“Shouldn’t Brix be here for that?”
The look in Iris’s eyes worries me. He’s way too into this idea. “Oh, trust me, we’ll write everything down to give to him.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re doing this to fuck with Brix?”
“Me? Never. I’m totally serious and professional at all times.”
I don’t believe him in the slightest. “Mmhmm.”
“Besides, don’t you want payback for him tackling you?” He blinks at me with an innocent look on his angelic face.
“You’re either really good at manipulation or terrible at it because I can see right through your act, but I still want to do it.”
He winks. “Already discovered the whole extent of my charm.”
I don’t yet know what to make of my new bodyguards, but they’re definitely not what I was expecting.
This could either be fun or a nightmare of sexual frustration.
Brix is all hard lines and strong features, and even though he tackled me, it oddly gives me faith in his ability to protect me, which kind of turns me on. Iris, on the other hand, has a slightly smaller build than Brix and is more typically attractive, but he’s still a bulky meathead.
And I have to be reading into it, but Iris is a little flirty. Or it’s been so long since I’ve had sex, I have no idea what social cues mean anymore.
That’s where the problem lies. I can’t find the guys who’ll be watching my back for the next few months attractive. That’s a distraction I don’t need.
“Let’s bang out some details.” Iris heads in the direction of the living room. “You got a laptop?”
“Uh, no. I have my phone.”
“Old-school pen and paper, it is.”
“I have an endless supply of that.” I write out my lyrics on paper. I’ve tried typing them out before, but there’s something about pen and paper that connects me to the emotions in the songs better than staring at a screen or tapping away at a keyboard.
I have stationery hidden everywhere in the house like an addict hiding their stash.
Pulling open the drawer of the coffee table, I pull out blank paper and an array of pens.
Iris takes them from me. “First thing we’ll need is your routine. Oh, and to organize getting a new security system. The one you have now is complete bullshit.”
“No more unlocking my house with an app?”
“Aww, you want a gimmick or, you know, to not die? You pick.”
“Good point.”
“I propose we put code pads on all the doors with automatic locks so you don’t have to remember to lock them.”
“Deal.”
“So, routine?”
“Right. It, uh, changes constantly. I’m usually not told until the day of because if Gideon tells me beforehand, I get confused.”
“So, Gideon will have a more detailed schedule for you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have a daily routine, like going to the gym or, I dunno, like, singing lessons or something?”
I snort. “Singing lessons? You mean vocal coaching? I’m offended you think I need it.”
He winces as if he knows he’s done or said something wrong. “It, I, uh, no … you don’t need it … Uh, my girlfriend totally loves you.”
“Oh, your girlfriend totally loves me.” And yep, it doesn’t matter if he’s flirty, because as suspected, he’s straight.
“Hey, at least I knew who you were.”
“Brix didn’t?”
Iris blinks. “I figured you guessed that when he tackled you.”
“I’m so going to keep that in my back pocket for when I need it.”
Iris smiles.
“By the way, I do have a vocal coach. I just wanted to see what you’d say if I put you on the spot.”
Iris seems surprised. Or amused. Maybe both. “Working with you might be more fun than I expected. No, wait, correction. Watching you work with Brix will be fun.”
“I get the sense he’s a bit … uptight?”
“Uptight is a better word for stubborn, so sure, let’s go with that.”
Hmm, what happens when two stubborn men are thrust into living together? I guess we’re going to find out.
Fun times.
Before I prod Iris to elaborate, he changes the topic.
“So, you go to see your vocal coach. What other places do you frequently go to? Gym? Which grocery store do you use?”
“Umm, Angela—my vocal coach—comes to the house once a week. Twice a week when I’m cutting an album. I have a personal trainer who comes three times a week, and we work out in the gym downstairs, and my groceries are brought in by my chef who does my meal plans for the week.”
“You never leave your house?”
I don’t miss his condescension. “Only when I need to.”
“What do you do for fun?”
My mouth opens to throw out answers, but they die on the tip of my tongue. “I work. That’s my fun. Performing in front of thousands of fans is fun.”
Iris writes something down I can’t see from where I’m sitting.
Then I truly think about my answer. A lot would argue that being famous is fun. Glamour, glitz, and extravagance. But if I really think about the last time I went out with friends and had actual fun …