Page 7 of Wild Fixation
“I’ve been looking at a few guys,” Seth says. “I could help you put together a team.”
For some reason, my heart drops at that. If Seth did that, would someone else arrive to save us in a situation like this? Would it be a stranger dragging me through the press instead of him? The ache in my chest suggests I care about those answers far more than I should.
Seth drops us off one by one. Levi is closest to the practice space, then Dan, Shawn, and finally Keannen. Keannen smirks at me as he climbs out of the car. He reaches over the seat to squeeze my shoulder as he scoots out.
“Have fun,” he says, low enough, hopefully, that only I can hear him.
I shrug him off and dismiss his comment, but it echoes in my ears when he hops out of the car, leaving me alone with Seth. Seth heads off without a word, winding through downtown toward the fancy new apartment I bought after the tour. It’s a far cry from where I used to live north of the city, the type of place I couldn’t imagine affording a mere few months ago.
When we reach the apartment building, Seth pulls up beside the curb and puts the car in park. He gets out and, before I can follow, sweeps around the car and opens my door for me. He offers me his hand, helping me down like I’m a prince descending from a carriage.
“I’m sorry,” Seth says. “This won’t happen again. I’ll see to that personally.”
He’s deadly serious — and he’s still holding my hand. I don’t dare point that out, letting my skin linger against his for as long as possible. His strong, calloused fingers hold my hand delicately, all the strength that plowed through that mob of paparazzi carefully contained.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say. “This was us.”
Seth is shaking his head before I finish. “I’m head of security. I’m in charge of this. And Keannen is right. They’re going to be on you in particular a lot. You should have the proper protection.”
You’re the proper protection.
I nod instead of letting those words sneak out. Seth releases my hand, but I stand at the curb and watch him drive away until he takes a turn and disappears into the tangle of Seattle’s streets. His warmth tingles on my skin long after he goes.
Chapter Four
Seth
I WATCH JACOB DISAPPEAR from the rearview mirrors. I shouldn’t. I should focus on the road, but I can’t tear my eyes away until a turn hides him from view. That one is going to be trouble.
As I drive back to the practice space with everyone’s keys in my pockets, my mind keeps wandering back to one band member in particular. The one with the pretty eyes and the dimples. The one who stared at me like I was some kind of superhero swooping in to save him. The one I didn’t want to let go of after successfully hauling him through the press.
I really need to get this out of my system.
I park my car and try to focus on the dreary task at hand instead of a man I work for and shouldn’t be thinking about in anything but a professional sense. A man I’mnotthinking about in anything but a professional sense. I have to get each of these cars back to their owners. I could call in some help, but it’s easy enough for me to do it alone.
After getting Levi’s car to him, I hop on a bus to return to the practice space. I go back over and over, tediously returning each car to its owner. The guys thank me, several of them seeming surprised I’m doing this job personally. A couple offer me rides back, but I insist on using the buses. I don’t need to get more friendly with the guys than I already am. That can only lead to trouble.
As I ride the bus to get the last car sitting in the lot, I consider those applications I set aside. The task of hiring a security team for Baptism Emperor got shoved to the side when this emergency arose, and I’ll be too exhausted to continue by the time I get home, but if today proved anything, it’s how vitally important that project is. Baptism Emperor can’t continue with nothing but my occasional presence as security. I was able to help today, but what if I was busy? What if The Ten Hours had left town and I went with them? If I wasn’t here, what would they have done?
An image flashes through my mind of Jacob standing helpless before that mob. He isn’t big enough to shoulder through the way I can, and even if he was, he doesn’t seem like the type. Too nice. Too friendly. The opposite of everything I’ve learned to be. No, he would have either hidden in the practice room for the rest of the day or tried to take their questions and satisfy their curiosity. Both would have ended in disaster.
I shiver when I hop off the bus, but not because it’s particularly cold. A sedate summer evening washes over me, cool and comfortable. The sun is sinking, but it stays up late this time of year, so I still have plenty of time before it gets truly dark, surely enough time to get this final car back to its owner.
I unlock Jacob’s car, but the moment I settle into the driver’s seat, he overwhelms me. My knees nearly hit the steering wheel. A pride flag dangles from the mirror. There’s a faint, warm scent that must be him. The second it hits my nose it reminds me so powerfully of him that a moment of vertigo swirls through my head.
My hands are unsteady when I grip the wheel.
I manage to adjust the chair and mirrors so I can actually drive, but it takes a few minutes and a few deep breaths before I turn the car on and get moving.
I shake myself. This is my job. I’m not thinking right, but it’s just a momentary affliction. I can brush it off. It’s all the time spent around each other lately. It’s nothing serious. Besides, Jacob is beautiful and famous and rich. There is no possible way he’d notice a bodyguard when the entire world wants him.
I manage to pull out of the parking lot and head toward Jacob’s place, trying my hardest not to memorize the way his whole car smells of him.
“THAT WAS A DISASTER.”
Emmett looks like he’s sucking on a lemon as he paces the conference room. It’s just me and him in here, which is a little ridiculous considering the long table between us. It hosts a dozen chairs and a bunch of ports for plugging in laptops. I sit stiffly in one of the chairs, uncomfortable in this stuffy environment. When Emmett woke me up with a terse call this morning, he insisted we have this meeting in person — and immediately.
I stifle a yawn. I don’t usually have to wake up so early. Bands tend to play their shows in the evening, and my schedule has adjusted to fit their lifestyle. But Emmett isn’t a rockstar. He’s a corporate middleman, and he operates on corporate middleman hours.
