Resist: Gavin

by Heather C. Leigh

  Mitch stands up as well, finishing his beer. “Right. And we have to find a new place to live.” He shoots me a side eye, but I can tell he’s not angry. Maybe annoyed, but not angry.

  “Sorry.”

  “No worries, Gavin. Let me make a few calls.”

  Mitch limps from the room. I hear his bottle clatter into the recycling bin in the kitchen. Without the work my assistant was bringing, I decide to get my laptop and Skype her so we can coordinate my schedule.

  Hopefully it will be enough to distract me from the fact that I’m now sharing a house with one of the hottest, most intriguing men I’ve ever known. Oh yeah, did I mention he’s straight? But after that look he just gave me, I’m thinking it’s possible he’s a little bit bent.

  Mitch

  “Is it necessary?” I demand, pacing the length of the back deck of the rental house.

  Ross snaps back in a clipped tone. “Yes, it’s necessary. It’s the launch party for their next album, Mitch. I wouldn’t make Gavin go if it weren’t important. You know that. He has to be there.”

  I brace one hand on the railing, drumming my fingers, and look out over the city. When I asked Ross to get a rental house, I should have known it would be a ridiculous mansion in the Hollywood Hills.

  “Fine. We’ll be there.”

  “Great. The car will pick you up at three,” Ross instructs.

  “No car. I’m driving him from now on. I don’t want anyone else knowing where we are or coming to the house. We’ll meet you at the studio and go with you from there. And three o’clock, Ross? The event isn’t until six!”

  Ross huffs. “There’s wardrobe, makeup, photo sessions, meet and greets—”

  “Whatever. Fine, fine, we’ll be there at three.” I disconnect the call before Ross goes off on another tangent.

  Christ. I never knew how much work it was to be a celebrity. There are more pointless meet and greets and photo sessions than I ever thought possible. It’s not surprising Gavin is ready to snap. He has people tugging on him from a million different directions. It’s the contact with so many strangers on a daily basis that makes me nervous. You never know if one of them is about to attack.

  “Gets old, doesn’t it?” Gavin quips from behind me, bringing with him the faint scent of that damn coconut body wash. “The nagging and expectations everyone has?”

  I laugh. “Yeah. And it’s only been a week. How you don’t snap and go out of your mind is a mystery. I’d be in the loony bin by now.”

  Gavin flinches and his mouth presses into a tight line.

  What did I say?

  “So,” I hesitate. “We’ll be leaving at two-thirty.”

  He nods, leaving the deck in a cloud of unexplained fury.

  Spoiled brat celebrities. Never again.

  Flummoxed, I call Sasha to vent.

  “Mitch, my gorgeous darling. Miss me?”

  I smile. “You always know how to cheer me up, Sasha.” I settle onto one of the comfy deck chairs and close my eyes, letting my skin soak up the sun.

  “That’s because I’m brilliant. And because I know you, Mitch,” she purrs.

  “You do.” I agree.

  “Uh oh, is there trouble in Hollywood paradise?”

  I snort. “You could say that. I’m saddled with a client who’s either bipolar or has a split personality. I haven’t decided which.”

  Sasha giggles. “Don’t say that. You know he isn’t either of those things.”

  “How would you know? You’ve never even met the man,” I challenge.

  “Because, Mitch. You would have diagnosed him already and told me as much. It wouldn’t take you an entire week to figure out something so obvious.”

  “Hmph.” She’s right.

  “You two don’t get along. That’s the problem,” she says with certainty.

  “We do sometimes. Then it’s like oil and water. I swear, Sasha, my head can’t keep up with his mood swings.” I flex my sore knee cautiously. It feels much better today, but not one hundred percent.

  “It’s like living with a whiney girlfriend, huh?”

  “Exactly.” I exhale and kick my feet up in the chair. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

  “I wonder why that is?” Sasha murmurs.

  “What?”

  “Oh, Mitch. You’ll figure it out when you’re ready. For now, just keep that boy safe.”

  “He’s not a boy,” I grumble.

  “Bye! Love you!” Sasha calls out.

  Before I can answer, she’s already hung up. Odd.

  I check the time and realize I have to get changed soon. Jesus, this suit thing is growing old. The thought of putting on a constricting tie has me gagging.

  There has to be another way to be part of Gavin’s entourage and not be the bodyguard or the executive. Since I don’t want any extra outsiders knowing where the house is, our entourage is small.

  When the idea comes to me, I spend a few minutes wondering if Gavin would be willing to go along with it. I spend zero minutes wondering why it has me growing hard.

  Nope. Not going there.

  ***

  “Yes. Of course, Ellie… I’ll see you there… I’m leaving in a few minutes… Okay… Bye.”

  I catch the tail end of Gavin’s conversation and come down the stairs in time to see him hang up his phone.

  “I need to discuss something with you in the car,” I mention as I hit the bottom step.

  Gavin whirls around and chokes at the sight of me. His eyes bug out of his head like a cartoon character and his mouth drops open. Then… he bursts into laughter. The little shit. Honest to god, full belly, tears-in-his-eyes laughter.

  “What?” I snap. If he hadn’t started laughing I would have sworn I saw desire on his face when I came down the stairs. Hell, his tongue practically rolled out of his mouth.

  “W-what on earth? I-I mean…” The laughter continues.

  I cross my arms and scowl, waiting for him to stop acting like a brat. “Are you done?”

  Gavin wipes his eyes. “I don’t know, Mitch. What the hell?” He points at me, waving his hand up and down my body. “What are you wearing?”

  I scoff. “We’re going to be late. Can I catch you up in the car?” Annoyed at the fact that Gavin is still giggling like a schoolgirl, I snatch my keys off the foyer table and stomp outside to wait on the front step.

  “Oh god,” he whispers in a husky voice as he follows behind me.

  “What?” I yell, whirling around until we’re nose to nose. I know I’m being unprofessional, but I can’t help myself. He’s being such a dick. “Am I too embarrassing to be seen with? Am I not good enough for the perfect Gavin Walker?”

  “No!” Gavin responds to my accusations, holding up a hand to keep me from crashing into him.

  I pull back, still furious. “I need to lock the door,” I snarl.

  “Jesus, Mitch. What the fuck?” Gavin backs away from the door, heading towards the car.

  I shouldn’t care what he thinks. This is work.

  After locking up and pulling the car out of the driveway, I feel like the world’s biggest jerk.

  “Sorry for yelling,” I say at the same time Gavin mumbles, “Sorry for laughing.”

  “Christ,” I chuckle. “Aren’t we a pair?”

  “Yeah,” he agrees. “So,” I can see Gavin check out my clothing again from the corner of my eye. “What is with the outfit?”

  “Is it that bad?” I ask, biting my bottom lip as I glance over at all six feet plus of beautiful blonde man reclining in the passenger seat.

  “No! Not at all. I’m just not used to seeing you like…this,” he says, waving his hand at my clothes again.

  “Like what?”

  Here we go again. I’m getting all offended. And why? Because he doesn’t like my clothes? Why the hell do I care?

  Gavin lets out a long, tortured breath. “All sexy, okay? Shit.” He looks out the side window, hiding his face. I see a crimson blush spread over the one visible
cheek and ear.

  “Oh.” I grin. “So I’m sexy?” I tease. That explains his mixed reaction.

  Gavin barks out a laugh, still staring out the passenger window. “Yeah, like you don’t know that.”

  He thinks I’m sexy? For some reason that has me inherently pleased. More pleased than I should be but hell, it’s not everyday you get your ego stroked by a rock star. A gorgeous one at that.

  Aaaaand, I shove that right back into the nifty little space in my brain that’s storing up all the thoughts I want to deny ever having.

  It’s getting crowded in there.

  I clear my throat. “Honestly, the outfit is because I just couldn’t bear the thought of even one more day in a damn suit and tie.” I shudder. Gavin tilts his head in my direction. He’s listening, so I continue. “I felt like I was choking to death. It was too much like being back at the bureau. I just…Let’s just say I didn’t want any reminders of my time there, okay?”

  “What does that mean, then? If you aren’t my bodyguard, and you aren’t management, who are you?” Gavin asks.

  I force a grin on my face, feeling like I might just twitch right out of my skin. Gavin might not be pleased with my solution.

  “I’m your date.”

  Chapter 5

  Gavin

  My jaw hangs open in disbelief.

  “Excuse me?”

  Mitch gives me his sexy, lopsided grin. “I’m your date. Your boyfriend. At least until we catch this guy.”

  I blink to clear what must be massive cobwebs out of my brain because I do not understand Mitch’s point. In fact¸ I’m still choking on the image of Mitch’s ass in those tight jeans, proudly displayed right in my face earlier as we walked out to the car.

  “I’m not out,” I remind him. “The studio will shit a brick.”

  “Exactly.”

  Oh. Okay. As if that explains anything.

  “What I’m saying is I can’t come out, Mitch.”

  “Does your contract specifically state that you can’t?”

  “Well, no. But—”

  “Gavin, do you want to be out?” Mitch asks sincerely, his voice quiet but supportive.

  I clench my fists. What would this guy know about coming out or staying in the closet?

  “It’s not as easy as that,” I growl.

  Mitch glances at me. “It’s exactly as easy as that. If you want to be out, you can be out. Today.”

  Do I?

  “How? Or I guess the question is, why?”

  “I’ve thought about it a lot. About this stalker, whoever he is. I can’t build a solid profile. He doesn’t make sense, isn’t consistent. That’s not how these guys operate. The only common thread in everything is that the threats are anti-gay. If you come out, he’ll either get so angry that he’ll stumble. Make a mistake. And we can catch him. Or it will take the wind right out of his sails and he won’t have any reason to contact you anymore.”

  “You still think it’s the record label,” I mutter.

  Mitch shrugs. “Honestly, Gavin? The evidence leads me to believe it’s more than one person or entity. That’s why I can’t come up with a solid profile.”

  He glances over again. “I do believe that you have a very dangerous, mentally unstable stalker. But is it possible that the executives at the label capitalized on that fact by throwing their own threats into the mix to keep you in the closet? Yes. That’s why the letters are inconsistent. Half are from an actual psychopath, half are not.”

  I mull that over for a few minutes, the car silent while I process everything.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine? Fine what?” Mitch asks.

  “Let’s do it. Fuck them. I’ve played their game for a long time. First one record label, then another. I want to be myself. It was never my decision to hide, Utah.”

  Mitch laughs and throws me a wink. “Does that mean we’re going steady?”

  I look him up and down, taking in the sight that is Mitch Hale. He’s wearing sinfully tight jeans with black boots, and a grey T-shirt a full size too small that says “I Might Be Wrong But I Doubt It” in white lettering. The shirt clings to every muscle on the man’s body, the sleeves hugging around his biceps and begging for mercy. He even styled his hair. Whisking it up to the center in a short, teased semi-Mohawk. Keanu Reeves has nothing on this guy.

  My mouth goes dry at Mitch’s joke and I can only nod.

  He grimaces as if the thought of going steady with me disgusts him and anger floods my body. Mitch has me running so hot and cold, I’m going to have a coronary by the time tonight is over. Especially if we’re supposed to pretend to be a couple.

  Fuck me. I need a drink.

  Mitch

  “I need a drink,” I mutter to no one in particular.

  Adam Reynolds must hear me complaining because he places what I assume is a Jack and Coke in my empty hand.

  “Here you go, mate.” He grins and I can’t help but smile back. The man’s enthusiasm is infectious.

  Gavin, the sourpuss, is currently glaring at me from across the room. So much for us being an item. In the car, Gavin’s excitement and the accompanying smile he gave me had me sprouting questionable wood for most of the drive. Now he’s reverted right back to being a little shit. Hot and cold.

  “Thanks, but I’m working—”

  “I’ll take it, honey.” Gavin swoops in, steals the glass, and downs half of it before I can blink. I stand there, paralyzed, while I watch his pink lips caress the edge of the glass. “Thanks, dear,” he snaps, pulling me from my gawking. Before I can reply he turns and stomps off to pout somewhere.

  I’m annoyed at his attitude and the distance he’s kept between us tonight. What. The. Hell. No way is he going to up and disappear on me at another party. Especially after we paraded our relationship in front of the media to lure his stalker out of the shadows.

  “Sorry guys,” I apologize to Adam and his wife, Ellie. I was happy to finally meet them both after everything Gemma had told me about the couple when I gave her Adam’s phone number last year. Now I have to cut our conversation short because of yet another Gavin Walker temper tantrum.

  Weaving through the crowd at the club, I follow Gavin to the back hallway that houses the kitchen and bathrooms. Once I’m out of sight of the other guests, I grab a shocked Gavin’s upper arm and shove him into the men’s room.

  “Hey! Quit being an asshole!” Gavin wrenches out of my grip, turning to sneer. “I’ll put you on your knees again, Hale!”

  The thought of being on my knees in front of Gavin sends a flush of heat up my body. I can feel the fire in my cheeks and by the way Gavin’s eyes widen, I’m betting he can see it too.

  “I’m not the one behaving like a brat!” I growl in a low voice. Ducking, I check to make sure no one else is in the stalls. Once I’ve made sure it’s clear, I lock the bathroom door.

  “Brat?” Gavin shouts. “I’m a brat?”

  “Yes, you’re a brat. Ever since we had our picture taken outside, you’ve been unbearable to be around!”

  “You’re not the one whose entire life was just turned upside down out there!” he yells.

  I step closer, more furious than I’ve ever been. “Are you kidding me? You are so unbelievably self-centered!” Those damn hypnotizing full lips fall open in shock. “I was just outed too, and I’m not even fucking gay!”

  Without thinking, I grab either side of his head, digging my fingers into that thick, blonde hair, and crush my mouth over his.

  And it’s the hottest kiss of my life.

  Just, damn.

  Gavin

  When Mitch presses his mouth over mine, my body explodes with sensation. Raw, urgent need spills over, flooding my system. His huge hands frame my face and he crowds me back against the nearest wall. He’s large, dominating, and hot as hell.

  I have no idea what’s gotten into Mitch, but I’m not going to tell him to stop. The length of his body presses into mine, searing and hot and…hard?

&
nbsp; Fuck. He’s into this.

  It doesn’t matter why he’s doing it. Just the fact that his velvety tongue is in my mouth is good enough for me. I snake my arms around his waist and grip his tight ass, forcing our hard cocks to rub against each other. The resulting moan Mitch makes into my mouth almost has me coming in my pants.

  He tastes unbelievable and being so close gives me a concentrated dose of his scent, masculine and strong.

  Much too sudden, it ends. Mitch rips his delicious mouth away, stepping back. His chest is heaving, expanding and contracting under that damn too-tight shirt that shows every single ridge of muscle.

  Mitch wipes his swollen mouth with the back of his hand, staring at it as if he’s in shock. His eyes flick back to mine as I remain unmoving against the wall. Mitch’s hormone flushed face blooms into a dark red and… yep, there goes that eye twitch.

  “I-I…” He turns away and I see his hands clench at his sides.

  “Mitch—”

  Inhaling deeply, Mitch spins around and my words die in my throat. His eyes appear dark and conflicted—and they won’t meet mine.

  “I have to get back out there, to ummmm, look around and… just… I’ll be in the club.”

  Before I can say another word, he’s gone.

  Holy shit.

  After a few minutes of stunned immobility, I move in front of the sinks to wash my hands. It’s near impossible to ignore the fact that they’re trembling. As I dry them off, I look up at the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my lips are red from Mitch’s vicious, forceful kiss.

  Unable to help myself, I smile and run a finger over my abused mouth.

  Straight, sexy, FBI man isn’t so straight after all.

  Things just got interesting.

  ***

  “Gavin, a word please?”

  Oh shit. Talbot Putnam, president of our label, is waiting for me as I return from the bathroom. Rachel Whatley, head of public relations, and Ross are both trailing along. None of them appear to be happy.

  “Sure, Talbot. Let me get a drink first.” I need a drink, yes, but my intention is to grab Hawke for back up. I have a feeling I’m about to be ambushed.