Page 6 of Wild Fixation
His leering look needles at me.
“Cut it out,” I say. “Hasn’t this day gone bad enough already?”
Keannen puts up his hands. “Fine, fine, whatever. I’m just joking. You’re our shining golden boy. I know you’d never do anything so dastardly and evil as hooking up with the bodyguard.”
I glare and don’t respond. Thankfully, Seth appears then to escort Keannen out. Keannen puts up his hands when Seth tries to grab him.
“I’ll follow,” he says.
Seth grunts, but doesn’t push back, letting Keannen have his way and leading him outside. Keannen winks as he goes.
I sigh into the quiet. I’m the last one, and the press knows it. It’s mostly me and Keannen they want right now, and if the screaming beyond the door is anything to go by, my turn wading through them is not going to be a fun experience.
I startle when Seth returns.
“You ready?” he says.
I nod, my throat suddenly clogged. Seth takes my arm, his hand almost entirely wrapping around my bicep. I take a deep breath as he tugs me after him.
Then the noise hits me.
It’s a shock of sound, like a thunderclap going off an inch from my face. The noise would bowl me over if it weren’t for Seth holding me upright. Questions rain down like hail pelting my head and shoulders and back. Cameras go off, several held high above the crowd as though the reporters are going to hurl the things at me on the off chance of getting a better picture.
I can’t possibly be worth all this. I’m just a singer in a band, a singer plenty of people have seen plenty of times. There’s no shortage of pictures and videos of me all over the internet. Why in the world do they needthesepictures and videos outside a dingy practice space on a Tuesday? They crush in, trying to get closer, and Seth shoulders a couple away, careful to use just enough force to push them back without causing a lawsuit. He certainly knows his work well. I focus on his broad, strong back, shutting out the screaming reporters. For once, looking too closely at him is actually a positive.
Then something grabs at my sleeve, almost yanking me away from him. I gasp, and Seth whirls. His hand tightens on my arm. In one fell swoop, he pulls me free of the hand that grasped me, steps past me, and shoves the offending reporter back so hard the man sprawls on his butt on the pavement.
Seth glares at the man for a second, then turns his gaze to me. All I can do is gape. He’s like a knight wielding a shield, knocking aside the invading horde to protect a prince. His eyes are hard as a steel longsword behind his glasses, his mouth set in a firm line. He gives me a curt nod, then keeps pulling me along.
I don’t notice the paparazzi after that. I don’t hear their questions. If another is bold enough to grab at me, I don’t feel it. All I know is Seth’s hand on my arm, his other arm raised like he really is wielding a shield. His broad back is my bulwark. He stands like a tower and parts the crowd so we can reach his car.
I blink when he tosses me into the passenger seat. It takes a moment for my head to settle. I twist to find the rest of my band in the back seats. Keannen smirks; Shawn smiles sheepishly.
Seth hurries into the driver’s seat. The press crowd around the car, but he beeps and curses and makes his slow way through them until we’re finally free. I’m still dizzy from the experience as I watch the throng grow smaller in the rearview mirror, their disappointment plain as they throw up their hands in defeat.
“Our hero,” Keannen says once we’re safely on the road.
Seth grunts, refusing to rise to Keannen’s bait the way most people do. That produces a secret little smile that I hide by turning away and watching the road. If anyone can shut down Keannen’s usual schtick, it’s Seth.
“Thank you for coming to get us,” I say.
Some of the guys in the back (not Keannen) echo my sentiment. Seth makes a more affirmative-sounding grunt this time. Only I can see the nod he adds to it.
“Be more careful in the future,” he says.
“Yeah, Jacob, be more careful,” Keannen says.
I twist in my seat to gape at him. “Me? How is this my fault?”
“We all know you’re the one they want,” Keannen says.
“They want you just as bad,” I shoot back.
Keannen shrugs and flops back in his seat. “For now. I’ll be old news soon enough. You’ll still be our shiny, pretty frontman. You should really think about getting some permanent security.”
His eyes flicker meaningful toward Seth. I twist back around and cross my arms, refusing to acknowledge the comment. Seth came to save us today, and he worked with us during the tour, but he’s notreallyour bodyguard. Technically, legally speaking, we don’t have a security team. Seth just helps us out once in a while.
Which means he isn’t technically, legally off-limits,an unhelpful piece of me adds.
