“Let’s, um, go to bed.”
His eyes flared. “Three more days until that has more meaning.”
“Yes,” I whispered. There was no longer any question about the next step for us.
“Come.” His voice a deep delicious rumble, he kept one of my hands and drew me along with him toward the bedroom. “If you like the view in here, I think you’re going to love the one over the garden tub.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
* * *
For once, I woke before Max did. The approaching dawn transformed the darkness inside the lavishly appointed bedroom from black to grainy gray, but the greater transformation was what sleep did to my bodyguard’s face.
Relaxed, he appeared to be closer to my age. The worry lines that often marred his forehead were gone. I wondered yet again what put them there. His grandmother’s death and the circumstances surrounding it, I imagined.
Losses had a way of carving themselves indelibly into your psyche, as I well knew. But I also knew it helped to talk about it with someone who understood. I had Fanny. Or I did for now.
My brow dipped. He had no family. No close friends. He hadn’t even mentioned a former girlfriend. I was relieved by that, but it was unusual.
Who did Max have but me?
His eyes suddenly popped open, and I got caught in twin blue headlights.
I blushed. “Good morning.”
He glanced at the bedside clock, then at me. “It’s early. How long have you been up?”
“A while.”
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“Yes.” I leaned over him to touch his face like I’d been dying to do. “You’re so peaceful when you’re resting.” I traced a lock of his golden hair, sweeping it from his often-brooding brow.
“I sleep well with you,” he said as I studied him, marveling at the silky texture of his hair and the contrasting roughness of his beard.
“You haven’t the past few nights. You’ve been wide awake before I cracked open my eyes.”
The crease reappeared, along with the shadows. My skimming fingers stilled along the tightened edge of his jaw.
“The danger in LA seems far away here.”
“It does,” I said.
“It only seems that way, though.” The shadows in his eyes darkened. The tension within him was palpable, a tightening beneath my arm and under my palm.
He removed my hand from his face and lifted my arm. Unsure, I sat back, my legs tucked under me. My frown matched his as I watched him get out of bed.
“Did I do something wrong?” I experienced that bad kind of sizzling, sparking feeling inside my chest.
“No, ma’am. Hollie. Shug.”
In profile to me, I could see that he was visibly troubled before he turned completely away.
“Max.” I came up on my knees and made my way to the edge of the bed. “What just happened? Surely, you don’t think you have to singlehandedly protect me from every evil.”
But as I made the statement, I wondered if that was the way he felt. Even before we declared our feelings to each other, I had the sense that he took on more burdens for the people in his care than he should.
“You do, though, don’t you?” I slipped off the bed, stood, and placed my hand on his shoulder. His skin was smooth, but the muscles were knotted beneath it. “You can’t take on that responsibility. At the end of the day, bad things happen that are beyond anyone’s ability to control.”
Max turned around so swiftly, I stumbled back. The hem of his 2 ROWS BACK T-shirt swirled around my thighs.
“That’s advice you should follow yourself, Hollie.”
My eyes widened. I rewound my statement inside my head and swallowed my protest.
“You and I are more alike than different.” He wore his impenetrable serious expression.
“I’m not going to disagree. I wasn’t trying to upset you or make you defensive.” I dropped my chin and my hair slid forward, curtaining my regret. “I was only trying to help. Watching you sleep, I realized we’ve both had losses, and I wished that maybe you would share some of yours with me. But I can see that the wall around you isn’t meant to be scaled. By me or anyone else.”
Hurt tears stung my eyes. Apparently, I’d misread where he wanted this to go. I was out of my element with him on so many levels.
“You don’t have to share. Let’s get dressed.” My voice was as sluggish as my weighted movements. “We should do something fun.”
Yet I lacked enthusiasm, and my feet dragged as I moved toward the attached bath and the ridiculous two-person tub that would never be used by us. I got snagged by the upper arm just before my toes met the tile floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he turned me to face him, his expression no longer hard, but sad.
“Sorry for what?”
“For being the way I am. For worrying the way I do. I took that worry out on you.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you really do.”
I cocked my head to the side. His words and the somber way he spoke them sounded eerily similar to mine when I’d been talking about Samuel and recalling the horrors of a night that I had yet to reveal entirely to anyone.
“Is there something in your past as bad as what happened to me with Samuel?” I took a risk pushing, not knowing if Max would share or even if there was anything. It probably would just make him retreat from me further.
“Hollie. Fucking hell.”
I flinched. I made a conscious effort not to use profanity. Another tribute to my mother like the Shakespeare, the yoga, and the attention to maintaining an expanded vocabulary.
“Pardon my language, shug. It’s just that when I convince myself that I’m the more mature one, you go and say something like that. You see things more clearly than a lot of people, see me in a way most don’t.”
“But you’re not going to share what’s bothering you?”
He sighed. The solid steel shield over his gaze shimmered. “Can I have some more time to consider?”
“Absolutely.” But I was hurt that he hesitated, and my spine stiffened.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” I lifted my chin.
“Pull away. Assume that it’s personal. Assume my feelings for you are less than they are.”
He captured my chin between his finger and thumb, gently bringing my face into view and searching my eyes.
“If I could tell you everything right now, I would. But I’m not ready to lay myself bare to the bone. Not yet. Time, shug, it might not heal all wounds. But it does give us the benefit of distance from the more hurtful things, and hopefully some detachment from the worst of them.”
We were building a foundation, but until it was more solid, this was his gentle way of saying he didn’t yet trust me with his darker truths. My reticence to reveal all with him ran along similar lines.
“All right.” I forced a smile. Part of gaining his trust was showing him I wouldn’t push. “Let’s go out. I don’t know about you, but I could use some fresh coffee.”
“Coffee sounds great.” Looking relieved, he released me.
I took a step back, keeping my smile in place until I turned away from him. I knew I was doing the right thing, but I couldn’t stop the doubts that careened around inside me.
Were his secrets as dire as mine? If they were, would there ever be an easier time for him to share them?
Chapter Twenty-Four
* * *
I gave Max a curious look. “I can’t believe you’ve never been to New York before.”
“Never had the desire.”
“The theater. The people. The sights and history. The energy.” I loved it. My mother and I had come many times together.
“I can see that you like it. That it holds a lot of good memories for you, and that makes me like it.”
“C’mon.” I reached across the cracked Formica-topped table and took one of his hands. “You can’t be unaffected. You have to
admit the Empire State Building and Rockefeller Center are pretty cool.”
“Cool as in they were freezing. Your skin is still ice cold.” He sandwiched my hands between his and then lowered his head to blow warmth into the cocoon he’d created.
My scalp and toes tingling, I melted as if my insides were smoldering embers that his breath stoked to flames.
“Better?” He peered at me, a long, heated moment.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Good.” He released my hands and picked up his menu. “So, what’s good here?”
“Everything.” I looked directly at him. “Everything’s good.”
His lips curved, and he gave me an arch look.
“Hey,” I said. “That’s my signature brow move.”
“I know.” His dimples appeared. “But I don’t think you have it patented. And anyway, I don’t think you can pull off the sex appeal in your current outfit.”
“No?” I pursed my lips in an affected pout.
They were black. My eyebrows too. My makeup foundation was pasty white, my interpretation of nerdy goth. I had a fake diamond piercing on my nose. A Jack Skellington beanie covered all my strawberry-blond hair, and like my jacket and gloves, were The Nightmare Before Christmas paraphernalia the Disney store had been able to send over on short notice.
“Well, maybe you can. But only because I know what’s under all that shi—stuff.”
“Thank you.”
“For the compliment?”
“No. For spending time with me. My life is pretty crazy, and it’s a lot of trouble to go out and spend the day together like we did, like normal people do.”
“Time with you when it’s just the two of us, even with you dressed ridiculously like this, is something I desire the most.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest and spread outward as he took my hand and held it.
“So, this diner?” Max gestured with his head. He was nearly as unrecognizable as I was with a black knit cap covering his hair and black-framed tinted lenses hiding his beautiful blue eyes. “It’s pretty over-the-top decor wise.”
“Is it?” I glanced around, trying to look at it through his eyes. “All the I HEART NEW YORK paraphernalia, you mean?”
“Yes, and every cliché for the city so nice they named it twice.” He released my hand to pick up the salt shaker with that saying.
“They have the best pancakes in town, and you can buy souvenirs to take back home at the same time. I’m not all that sophisticated in my tastes, if you haven’t already figured that out. If it weren’t for Olivia and Ernie glamming me up . . .” I sputtered. Thinking of my best friend and me being on the outs made my heart hurt. “Well, anyway . . .”
“Do you want to talk about it? About him?”
I shook my head and glanced away.
“Hey. Scoot over.” Max suddenly moved over to my side of the booth and threw his arm around me. “Don’t withdraw from me.”
“I didn’t mean to. It’s just that sometimes it hits me.”
“You have a lot going on right now.”
“And a dwindling list of people that I can count on.” My own doing, I knew, but it being the right thing to do didn’t make the isolation any less painful.
“Let the outside world do what it’s going to do. We can’t control it. But here . . .” He gestured to both of us, then made a bracket of his hands with us in it with his thumbs pointed inward. “You and me inside the frame is all that really matters, right?”
“Yes.” Tears pricked my eyes. “Absolutely.”
• • •
“Hurry, Hollie.” Olivia passed me my wedge sandals as they came off the conveyer belt, and I tried to balance on one foot to get them back on while she and Max gathered everything that the TSA agents had scattered. I believed it was more practical to dress for my destination city, but practical or not, the complicated buckles on the trendy LA-appropriate shoes were slowing me down.
Yes, even celebrities had to go through security at the airport just like everyone else. The only perk? We had a dedicated checkpoint we went through alongside all the other VIPs.
“Hollie,” someone called, and I tensed, anticipating paparazzi. “Hollie Lesowski, it is you.”
Older but still as handsome as ever, Cedric Wells stepped into view.
“Let me help you.” No longer a mere teen idol but now a megastar, he offered me his hand to lean on so I could refasten the buckle on my sandal. “You’re looking as beautiful as ever.”
Since my debut speaking part in the show with him as a fairy godmother, I had seen him at celebrity events here and there over the years.
“How are you?” He leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “Really?”
I leaned back and glanced at him sharply. I didn’t know what Cedric’s angle was, but I was far from looking beautiful. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with a headband around that to cover up the leftover white goth makeup I hadn’t had time to rinse off properly. And I was in yoga pants and a I HEART NEW YORK T-shirt that I knew would forever remind me of my day in the city with Max.
“No one’s watching us, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Cedric glanced around again, then smiled mischievously. “Except your agent and your security guard, who looks a little pissed.”
I swiveled. Max looked more than pissed, he looked livid. His hands were clamped so tightly around the handle of my bag that the skin over his knuckles had blanched.
“We’re running late for our flight.” When I turned back to the former teen idol, I could feel the heat of my bodyguard’s stare boring holes into my shoulder blades.
“I won’t keep you. I just wanted you to know off the record that we’re all on your side.”
My eyes narrowed. “Who’s all?”
“The guys I work with.” He paused and touched my hand. “Me.”
“That’s very nice, but . . .” I snapped my mouth shut as a shadow falling over me plunged me into darkness.
“Time to go, Miss Wood,” Max said, forcing the words through his clenched teeth.
“Okay.” I turned back to Cedric. “Nice to see you again.”
“I meant what I said.”
When my former costar took my hand, I heard a menacing growl behind me that raised the fine hairs beneath my ponytail.
Cedric smiled at me, revealing his perfect straight white teeth. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Running into you is confirmation. I have a project, a dream of a script I’ve been holding on to, waiting for just the right person to come along. You’d be perfect in the lead.”
Olivia stepped into view. “Hello, Cedric.” She gave me a pointed look. “We really must go. They’re calling to board our flight.”
“Can we talk about this some more?” Cedric made eye contact with me. “Maybe over dinner, perhaps.”
“Yes.” I quickly gave him my number.
“Why did you do that?” Max asked after we moved away.
“It’s just business.”
“It’s not just business to him. He stared at your tits the entire time you were talking to him.”
“He did not.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re jealous.” I started to touch his arm and opened my mouth to tell him he shouldn’t be, but Olivia wedged herself between us.
“Not here, you two.” She cast her gaze over her shoulder to where a group of young teenage boys were hurrying to catch up to us.
I sighed. “This is my life, Max.” As his expression closed off in response to my explanation, I said quickly, “I’m sorry, it tends to come fast and without warning,” an apology meant to encompass everything, Cedric plus the insanity.
I didn’t have time to say more as we were suddenly inundated by a group of enthusiastic boys. Max was formidable, but even he couldn’t stave off determined teenage fans.
• • •
We missed our flight.
Olivia was irritated and popped in her earbuds as soon as we were seated on an alternative flight. Max remained mad and wouldn’t do
more than grunt unintelligibly in response to my attempts to get him to talk with me.
Frustrated, I snapped through the pages of my magazine, wishing there was room to do yoga in first class. Without anybody to talk to or anything productive to do to help pass the time, the flight was going to feel like longer than five hours and forty-five minutes.
I leaned back and closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew, someone was poking my arm.
“Hollie, wake up.”
“Are we landing?” I popped open my eyes, checking the window but seeing only puffy white clouds.
“Not yet. But I need to show you something.” Olivia put her iPad in my hands.
“Oh no.”
On the other side of her, I could tell Max was listening.
I scrolled through pictures from the coffee cart, the Empire State Building, and the diner. Max and me on the same side of the booth. Him framing the two of us against the world in his hands.
I blew out a frustrated breath. “They must’ve been following us. Guess the disguises didn’t work.”
“There’s pictures from the airport with you and Cedric.”
“I see that. They made it look like we were going through security together.”
“Besille’s Online is captioning it Two Men, One Weekend. Some of the less reputable outlets are titling them Holliewood does New York City with Her Bodyguard and Sir Cedric. Underage, But Not Lacking in Experience.”
I glanced at Max. He stared straight ahead but was gripping the armrests on his seat so hard, I feared he would bend the metal.
Olivia kept her gaze on me. “How do you want to play it?”
“What would you advise?”
“The truth. That you’re platonic friends with both of them.”
I let out a relieved breath. “You’ll need to speak to Cedric.”
“Already emailed his agent. We have permission to recount events as they transpired, absent any references to Samuel.”
“Good that the plane has Wi-Fi, so we weren’t caught unaware.”
“Mr. Cash?” Olivia said, and my bodyguard turned to face my agent. His jaw was determinedly set, his gaze steely blue. “I’m going to need you to electronically sign, giving me permission to address these photos on your behalf.”
(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5) Page 100