Page 22 of Backstage with a Billionaire Rockstar

He doesn’t answer, so I take it as my cue to continue with my truth. “It was when I was overseas, during one of my tours. Things happen there that you would never want to see that would make you sick.”

Images flash through my mind at warp speed, but I focus only on one – he doesn’t need all my gory encounters. “I’d gotten kidnapped, taken hostage to a building in the middle of nowhere. It was falling apart, but I could hear gunshots in the distance and knew we were close to people.”

Evan’s hand falls onto my thigh, giving it a squeeze and the strength I need to keep moving forward with my experience. I rub a hand over my throat and swallow thickly, still remembering how the rope felt.

“When days turned into weeks, I knew it was only a matter of time before they came back and killed me. They’d left me begging for food and water, depriving me of it.”

My eyes sting with tears and I take in a shaky breath, curling my finger around the neckline of my shirt. “Eventually, one of the men who kidnapped me came to finish me off. Although I didn’t want to die, I was prepared. It was when the rope tightened around my neck that I began to panic, finally letting that fear out I’d been holding in.”

“Hey,” Evan says when I choke on a sob, and he wraps his arms around me tightly. “You don’t have to keep talking, Mia.”

I push back enough to look into his eyes. “I’m just saying everyone has fear in them, and it’s okay if you do as well.”

He brushes the pad of his thumb over my cheek, wiping away a tear, and stares into my eyes with sadness swirling inside of them. “Is that why you left the army?”

“It was the only thing I could do. I was paranoid after that, took years of counseling to finally feel normal after what I went through. Everyone understood why I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“How did you escape?”

“My squad finally found me after searching high and low. I knew there was someone watching over me after that, and I didn’t want to take it for granted. Protecting people is how I get through it, knowing that I’m saving someone from the same situation I was in.”

This is the most I’ve talked about since taking this job, and I don’t want to cower back. There’s something in Evan’s gaze, a brightness in them that wasn’t there before, and he places his hand against my cheek.

“You’re the strongest woman I know,” he rasps before starting to lean forward.

I’m so lost in the color of his eyes that I don’t realize what’s happening until he’s a breath away from his lips, touching mine.

For a moment, I want nothing more than to close that gap, to feel his lips on mine. But then Liam's face flashes in my mind, his green eyes—so like Evan's—looking at me with confusion and hurt. The guilt hits me like a physical blow.

How can I even think about kissing Evan when I'm keeping such a massive secret?

I throw my hand open against his chest, pausing him, then slowly back away from his body. “We should, uh, get to sleep.”

Evan blinks, then nods and runs his hands down his thighs. “Right.”

He looks around the space for a brief moment, then rises from his bed and walks over to a closet at one corner of the room. Inside of it is an extra blanket, which surprises me, and another pillow. Evan holds them in the air and spreads them out on the floor before looking at me. “I’ll take the floor; you can have the bed.”

My eyes bug out, and I shake my head. “No way, Goldie. Carmen would kill me if you complained about your back tomorrow before rehearsals.”

“If my mother were here, she’d smack me upside the head if I let you sleep on the floor.” He sighs heavily and looks at the empty space next to me. “Unless we both sleep on it?”

I feel the flush igniting on my cheeks, and I chew on my fingernail. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I know how to keep my hands to myself, darlin’.”

Maybe he’s right… but do I? The bed is big, a king it looks like, and I know it’s possible for him to be in with me while also giving me my space. Yet, the idea of him giving me exactly that makes me frown.

What is up with my emotions lately?

I’m his bodyguard.

He’s the bass guitarist for Raising Havoc.

Liam is his son.

Each of these things does a good job of setting my head straight, and I nod curtly. “As long as you’re professional,” I choke out before lifting the large blanket and climbing beneath it.

“Are you sure I’m the one we need to be worried about?” He asks, amusement laced in his tone.

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