Page 33 of We Own the Stars

Her things are piled high on one of those vanities with the bright, round lights, her makeup bag sits open next to a bottle of Dominique La Sol water, and the hoodie I saw her wearing the other day is thrown across the back of her chair. I can’t help but smile when I see it. The poor, tattered thing is so moth-eaten it should be thrown away, but I hope she never tosses it. The thought of the princess of pop bumming around in a ratty old gray hoodie is ironically endearing.

A large, beige curtain beside the vanity suddenly flies open, revealing Kallista, now standing in the tiniest rhinestone bikini. Being the warm-blooded man that I am, I have to force myself to keep my gaze firmly on her violet eyes before they can wander to other regions of her tempting body.

My cock, on the other hand, doesn’t get the memo that we’re trying to be decent here, and twitches. Clutching the curtains from both sides, Kallista glares at me, until she sees the bag at my side.

“What’s in the bag?” she asks, her voice tense.

I figured after that night in the hospital that we were past being nervous around one another. She’s supposed to trust me. But maybe it’s not even about me. Maybe it’s more about the fact that her agent is a piece of shit, Lacie Calbert is making her life miserable, and we’ve only said three words to each other all day. It’s only natural for her to be bristly, I guess, even if I don’t like it.

With a grin, I hold up the bag, still doing my best not to let my eyes wander. “Food. For you, before you go on. I got you some protein bars and a chicken salad with some vegan dressing.”

I’m so damn proud of myself, picking stuff without dairy in it. Margot said she bloats easily. I remember from my training days that guys on my team who complained about digestive issues usually found that dairy was the culprit.

Kallista predictably turns up her nose and glides out from behind the curtain to sit in front of her mirror. She doesn’t even look inside the bag when I place it down on her vanity. She stares at it like I just put a bag of dead rats in front of her.

“I can’t eat that,” she says as she starts to pull makeup out of her bag. “I can’t eat anything before a show, Xavian. I’ll bloat.”

Knowing she’d say that, I offer her a smug grin and pull the salad out of the bag. “Have you ever been tested for a dairy intolerance? Or allergies?” I ask, setting the salad down in front of her. “Because I think it might be beneficial.”

“No. And my medical history isn’t any of your business. Why aren’t you guarding my door instead?”

It feels like she’s just tossed a bucket of ice water over my head. Okay, I guess we’re back to this era of our relationship. I swallow the lump in my throat and move behind her chair, watching her apply her foundation in the mirror.

“You have two guys out there already,” I say after a few moments of stewing. “I’m your personal guard, but if you think that means all I’m going to do is sit around and watch you put your makeup on while you sail toward death with open arms, you’ve got another think coming.” I flash her my pearly whites in the mirror, and she scowls at me. A laugh rips through my throat uncontrollably. I can’t help it. The look on her face is just too damn cute. Like she’s an angry little chipmunk.

She turns around in her chair and swats me on the arm. “Why are you laughing?”

“I-I’m sorry,” I manage, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s just … your face.” I clear my throat. “Anyway. Eat the damn protein bars, if nothing else. Those are vegan, too, and they won’t make you bloat, I promise.”

She shakes her head and sighs. It sounds sad, but maybe I’m just overanalyzing every inflection in her tone, every bit of her body language. I think I only got to see the real Kallista once, back in the hospital room, when she was relaxing beside me. Watching the celebrities on the red carpet. Staying awake with me until the credits rolled across the screen at one in the morning. That Kallista had a tenacious, colorful spirit, and I hope I get to see her again someday. Soon.

“Listen,” I say, leaning to look at her eye to eye. She flinches, but I don’t pull away. “What’s going to look worse in the tabloids tomorrow? The pop princess passing out underneath the lights in front of forty thousand people, or the smallest belly pooch because you took care of yourself and ate something? Eating is strength. Eating is self-care and allows you to perform better. There’s nothing shameful about caring about your performance.”

Kallista’s throat bobs up and down as she stares into my eyes—and then finally, finally, she turns around to rip open one of the vegan protein bars. It’s gone within seconds. I’m not even sure I saw her chew the damn thing before it disappeared.

Laughter rises from my throat again as I pat her on the shoulder. “S-Slow down, or you’re going to give yourself indigestion. I got you a few, so take your time.”

She tears open the wrapper of the second bar and ravenously shoves it into her mouth. “I’m just so fucking hungry. This is the first time I’ve eaten all day.”

All day? But it’s six in the evening.

“Sounds irresponsible,” I say, and plop down on the ground next to her chair. Kallista chows down on the next bar, slower this time, and I smile.

“Yeah, but Margot won’t let me eat the things I want to eat, and I lost my appetite at the café,” she says in between bites.

“That makes sense. I would have, too. Your agent is a real dick.”

Kallista pauses her chewing and stares down at me, wide-eyed. Then a giggle bubbles up from her chest. It’s a beautiful, joyful sound. Like a tinkling bell. She has such a lovely voice. I can see why she’s popular, and why Aiken is such a crazy fan.

“Luthor? Tell me about it. But he’s also one of the best in the business, so….”

I shrug. “So good he isn’t aware of the danger he put you in with that Nocturne gig? I don’t like him. He’s not doing his homework. Isn’t that what A-list agents are supposed to do? Vet opportunities before hurling their biggest moneymaker to the wolves?”

She grins, and I notice there’s a bit of chocolate in the corners of her mouth. “Can I ask you something? Something personal.”

I nod, draping my arms around my knees.

She catches her lip in her teeth again, which I’ve learned is code for something, though I haven’t determined exactly what yet. “Why did you take this job? You’re my sixth bodyguard, and so far you’ve stuck it out longer than the others. I’m trying to figure out why.”

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