Page 1 of Backstage with a Billionaire Rockstar

1

Mia

When I got the call, I didn’t want to believe it, but now that I’m standing here, I know I’m not dreaming.

This is really happening.

I shake my head and take a deep breath.

I’m a professional. I’ve got this.

As soon as the front door swings open, I’m met with the same piercing green eyes that I remember vividly from nearly six years ago. He eyes me curiously before leaning lazily against the doorframe with a cocky smirk and looking me up and down with a predatory gaze.

I swallow thickly, willing the words to come out of my mouth, but it’s no use. I’m mute at the sight of him.

“It’s not my birthday, but I don’t mind the present,” he says with a wink. “What should I call you, baby?”

"Do I know you?" Evan's eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition passing through them before disappearing.

My body vibrates underneath the lust-filled gaze he drags over my frame for the second time, and my body clenches with unwanted desire.

I swallow hard, willing my heart to stop racing.

Instead of giving him the answer that first comes to my head, that I’d love to show him a good time – which would be unprofessional – I give him a stern frown and say, “Mia. I’ve been hired as your personal bodyguard.”

A job like this doesn’t come around every day for me – I’m more of a secret protection kind of guard, one who protects people in protective custody – and I jumped at the chance to take it so I could get out of my comfort zone.

I’ve got a feeling I should’ve stayed where I was comfortable, though, judging by the way I can’t stop looking at his corded arms that are now pressed up against his toned chest. His frame has definitely filled out a lot more since the last time I saw him.

This is not where my head should be at.

I'm a professional, dammit. I've protected CEOs, and witnesses in high-profile cases. So why does this man make me feel like a fumbling rookie?

Because he's not just any man. He's Evan, the one I let myself be reckless with. He is the father of my child.

“Bodyguard… right,” he says with a knowing smirk. “You gonna protect me, beautiful?”

Why does the compliment make my heart race?

I shake my head, sending the emotions scattering away until I’m left with a blank stare aimed in his direction.

“Could I come in?” I mumble.

Evan pushes away from the way and waves me inside, that proud smirk still on his face, but it turns molten when my shoulder brushes against his chest. It feels as though I’ve been struck by lightning, a million bolts lighting me up inside, yet I manage to keep my emotions to myself. He waits until I’ve got my shoes kicked off before leading me into what seems to be a large living room space.

He walks casually into the room, then claps his best friend, Brent – lead singer of Raising Havoc – on the back with a loud whistle. “You didn’t tell me you had a present for me. My birthday isn’t for another week.”

My cheeks heat from embarrassment, and I dart my attention anywhere but at Brent.

Brent scoffs. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, man.”

Evan doesn’t say anything back. He just chuckles and shakes his head before patting his lap with an expectant look in my direction. “Come sit on my lap, baby.”

Is he serious?

Evan's demand gets Brent’s fiance, Julia, ’s attention, and she snaps her gaze up to meet mine.

Her eyes widen, and she looks at Evan, a smile tipping at the corners of her mouth. “Evan, who’s your friend?”

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