Page 12 of Wild Fixation
I grind my teeth when I finish, but nothing I can do will reel those words back in. They’re out there now, and I can’t take them back. Jacob is silent beside me. I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look away from the road. What I just said could be strictly professional. No, itisstrictly professional. Security is my job, and Emmett said I need to be looking after Baptism Emperor until I can build up a bigger team. Jacob is the problem child of the band in this regard, so it only makes sense that I’d focus on him in particular.
There’s nothing unprofessional about that at all.
In fact, I double down just to prove that to myself.
“Jacob, your security is my personal priority,” I say. “Emmett and I had a meeting yesterday, and he said this can’t continue. I’m trying to hire a bigger team, but in the meantime, I’m supposed to keep stuff like this from happening. Do you understand?”
We’re deep into downtown now, getting close to Jacob’s apartment building. As we putter at a light, his eyes prickle over me, but I steadfastly refuse to look.
“I understand,” he says in a small voice.
The light releases us, and I reach Jacob’s building and pull up to the curb, just like when I dragged him away from that practice space the other day. I don’t immediately hop out of my car to send him on his way, however. This time, I put the car in park and, with a deep breath, finally look at him.
He’s taken off his sunglasses, and his hazel eyes waver. His face is uncharacteristically somber and still, his dimples hidden under a moue of petulance. We can’t afford for him to be stubborn about this, though.
“Hand me your phone,” I order.
Surprise softens Jacob’s expression, but he obeys. I tap in my number and show him the screen.
“This is me. Don’t pull this shit anymore without contacting me first.” I already have his number but until now I haven’t given him mine.
“But…”
“No buts. You’re going for a jog, then I’m going for a jog. You need groceries, then I need groceries. This isn’t a game, Jacob. You can’t do whatever you want anymore. If I didn’t happen to be nearby today…”
I let the thought trail off, stopping myself as my heart leaps into my throat.Stick to the mission, I remind myself.He’s a client. He’s a job. That’s all.
But when Jacob looks at me, he doesn’t look at me like I’m simply hired muscle. His eyes linger on mine, nearly prying my mouth open and pulling out the words and thoughts I need to keep to myself.
“I understand,” he says, small, shaken, contrite.
Something in my chest tightens painfully to see him this way, but it’s for the best, I tell myself. He can’t keep thinking there are no consequences when he does stuff like this.
“Promise me you’ll call,” I say. “Anytime. Anywhere. It’s not an imposition. It’s my job.”
“I promise,” he says.
Still so small, curling in on himself, a shadow of the loud, bright, brilliant man he is when he’s onstage with a mic in his hand.
I dispel the image by getting out of the car and going around to open his door for him. Jacob blinks at my hand when I offer it, but takes it and lets me help him out of the car. He holds on a beat longer than he has to.
“Thank you,” he says softly, gazing up into my eyes.
I don’t dare respond around the lump in my throat, simply see him to the door of the apartment building, watching until he disappears into an elevator.
Chapter Seven
Jacob
EMMETT’S VOICE DRONES ON like a fly buzzing around my head.
“That’s why this period of time is so absolutely crucial,” he says. “This is when we’ll shape your public image. This is when you’ll cement yourselves in the public’s mind. Whatever comes next,thisis what they’ll always remember about you, whether they realize it or not.”
I slouch in my chair around the big, rectangular conference table. My bandmates sit on either side of me, while Emmett paces on the other side of the table. The windows of the meeting room look out over gray corporate hellscape, the type of place I’ve dreaded since I was in high school. I thought being in a band would save me from these kinds of places, but it turns out the music industry loves meetings as much as everyone else.
When Emmett first called us in, I was scared it was going to be about what happened at the park yesterday, but thankfully this meeting is not about my overly eventful jog. The room grows warmer as I replay Seth’s daring rescue, the way he charged down that hill, threw me into his car and took me home. Again. It should be embarrassing to need him to do that twice in three days, but the flush washing through my body isn’t shame.
I’m not letting you out of my sight again.
