Page 3 of Captivating

Lilah

Brunch. I want to sleep in.

Mom

Fine. But make sure you bring your bodyguard with you. One is waiting for you at your house.

Lilah

Mother!

“What the fuck—” I snap my head to Noah and instantly see red. “You knew.”

It’s not a question because the answer is written all over his guilty face.

“I sure did, and I agreed with them.” He’s completely unapologetic, and I suddenly have the urge to stop the car and walk home. That or maybe junk-punch him. “I know you feel safe here, Lilah, but we still have to be careful. We don’t know who set the fucking bombs. If they hadn’t found them in the security sweep, they could have taken out us and thousands of people. I don’t give a shit if you’re pissed. You’re alive, and you’re going to stay that way. The label expanded your security. Guess you’re going to test out that guest house sooner than you thought.”

“Fine. But they don’t come inside.” I refuse to look at Noah or my phone. I’ve spent the last year working with designers on every last detail for my brand-new house, and the thought of sleeping there tonight has been what’s gotten me through these past few weeks of the tour. It’s supposed to be my refuge. My haven. With ten acres of privacy and walls of windows in nearly every room, every painstaking detail has been thought-out so I can feel as free as possible while maintaining as much privacy as possible.

I absolutely refuse to let anyone ruin the small speck of normalcy I’ve earned.

And I’ve earned it.

I swore after spending two entire years touring, I wasn’t going back out right away. But our label had other plans and strong-armed me into what they called a small six-month tour. The last two months were postponed because of the security breach. We’re going to discuss rescheduling it in a few days. But until then, I’m going home to my own house, and I’m going to live like a happy hermit.

At least that’s what I tell myself until my phone chimes again.

Mom

Fine. I’ll have breakfast ready at ten tomorrow. I know everyone can’t wait to see you guys.

I look at Noah. “Hell no. I’m not ready to see the whole family. Not yet.”

Noah’s eyes soften as he shakes his head. “I get it.”

Lilah

Just us, Mom.

Mom

But honey . . .

Dad

Just us, Tink. I promise.

When Mom was growing up, everyone called her Tinker Bell. But Dad says the minute I was born, that’s what she called me. Her little fairy. Tiny, feisty, and even more blonde than she was. I think she was just happy to give the nickname to someone else.

Lilah

Thanks, Daddy. See you tomorrow.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Noah mocks, and I stick my middle finger in the air and close my eyes. “Would now be a bad time to tell you I’m crashing with you for the next few days too?”

“What?” I give in and punch him the way I’ve wanted to for the past ten minutes. Not in the junk, but close enough. “Why? What’s wrong with the condo?”

“Jamie’s crashing there. After they lost their playoff game, he wanted to get the hell out of DC, and we only have one functioning bedroom in the condo right now.” At least he has the good graces to look guilty. I get it, and normally I wouldn’t care. Jamie has crashed with us for years in his off-season. Our cousin is the best defensive tackle in the NFL. He’s also one of my closest friends, but the fucker refuses to buy his own place, and he’s messy as shit.

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