Page 11 of Rock Bottom

“That’s more like it.” I shot a set of finger guns at him and trotted up the stairs to get dressed.

It smelled heavenly up there. It’d smelled good downstairs, but whatever he was cooking had wafted up the stairs and settled in the loft to make my mouth water.

“What are you making for dinner?” I shouted as I buckled my jeans.

“It’s already made and cooling on the counter whenever you’re hungry.” There was a slight pause. “Dante?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be all right if I step out to check the perimeter?”

I chuckled to myself. He was so damn overprotective. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so smothering. “As long as the bear skin rug doesn’t get me, yeah.”

“I’ll be back in an hour,” he promised.

I waited for the door to shut behind him before going back downstairs. It turned out he’d made shepherd’s pie. I hadn’t had one of those since I was little.

Growing up, mom made a lot of casseroles. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized she was always throwing pasta or rice in every meal to make it stretch further. I never could’ve fathomed I’d wind up as one of the most successful musical artists of all time, rich enough that I’d bought my mom and each of my siblings a nice house to live in. Mom had worked three jobs to take care of me. I was going to make damn sure she never had to work another day in her life.

My chest ached as I sat in front of that shepherd’s pie thinking about my family. When was the last time I’d called my mom or my brothers? I was always sending them money, but I couldn’t remember the last holiday we’d all been together, or the last time I’d just spent a day chilling with them. I missed that.

But then I remembered the way the paparazzi hounded me everywhere I went. I didn’t want to subject the rest of my family to that. They shouldn’t have to put up with cameras and microphones in their faces just because I wanted to have Sunday dinner with them.

I could call or text, but it wasn’t the same. They were better off forgetting all about me and going about their lives like I’d died and left them a fortune. That was easier for all of us.

They only know me through the news headlines now. I cringed at the thought of what the papers said about me. God, they must’ve thought I was a total screw up.

And they were right. I really need to focus on getting my head on straight instead of some unattainable fantasy of a man.

I scooped up a forkful of shepherd’s pie and blew the steam off before shoving it in my mouth and immediately letting out a delighted moan. The man can cook, and he’s got a perfect ass? I leaned on my arm and scooped up another bite. Not daydreaming about him is asking for the impossible.

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out, smiling when I saw the text from Jake.

Jake

Settling in?

Yeah. I guess Ohio’s not that bad.

Jake

It totally is.

Okay, so it is. But…

I left the three dots dancing on the screen as I decided how to explain my obsession with my new bodyguard to my best friend.

At least the view of my new bodyguard is nice.

Jake

Is he hot?

Big, beefy, and British

Jake

LMAO. You’re so fucked.

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