“Let’s get this over with. Did you decide if you’re wearing a sweater?”
“Yeah, I think I am. There’s not much to this dress and it’s a little chilly.”
“My hormones can’t decide if I’m hot or cold. I’m going to grab one just in case.”
We grab our bags and step off the bus. Our guards are standing by the door waiting for us. There is also a man decked out in a suit, hair slicked back.
“Ah, who do we have here?” he asks.
One of the guards places his arm out in front of us, as if to shield us from him.
“Come on now, you don’t really think I would hurt these two lovely ladies now, do you? I’m looking for the band.”
“Not here,” our other guard says.
I realize that they’ve been with us this whole time and I don’t even know their names. They rarely speak to us, except “this way,” or “wait”—things like that. After this incident, though, I will learn their names. They put their lives on the line for us. Not that we’ve had any issue up to this point, but it only takes once. Suit guy creeps me out, so I’m grateful they’re here.
“I find it hard to believe they would leave these beauties. Mrs. Warren, nice to see you again.”
Logan stiffens beside me, but she doesn’t respond to him.
Both guards, who are mountains of men, step between us and cross their arms over their chests. “Guys aren’t here, move along.”
Suit guy chuckles. “See you soon, ladies.” He smirks and walks off.
The guards don’t move until he’s out of sight.
“Let’s get you to the party,” the one standing in front of me says. He throws an arm over my shoulder and we begin walking to the SUV.
“Logan?”
“She’s right behind us,” he answers. He’s all business, and I make a mental note to thank Cole for insisting that I also have a guard.
Once we’re safely in the car and on the road, I reach over and grab Logan’s hand. “Did you know that guy?”
“He looks familiar, but I can’t place him. I’ve met so many people since I’ve been with the band, it’s hard to tell. He obviously knows me, or at least knows who I am.”
“You guys recognize him?” I ask the guards.
“No, ma’am,” Logan’s replies.
“We owe you both an apology. You’ve been by our sides this entire tour and we don’t even know your names.”
“It’s supposed to be like that, ma’am.”
“Why?” Logan asks.
“When we get personal with clients, attachments are made. Protecting you becomes personal and we might not react with a clear head,” my guy replies.
“But you know us,” I counter.
“Yes, ma’am, we do. It’s our job to study your patterns and actions. It’s what we need to do to protect you. That part is personal, but we keep our lives to ourselves. Helps with personal detachment.”
“Must be lonely,” Logan muses.
“No, ma’am. We do this for our families back home,” her guy replies.
“He was creepy, for sure. I mean, I didn’t get serial-killer vibes, but creepy, you know?” Logan says.
“Yeah, he was creepy all right.” I think about the incident and then I think about the guys finding out. “Nothing happened, and I never felt like we were in danger, but I can only guess that the guys are going to freak.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “Kacen is protective enough.”
“I don’t suppose we could not tell them?”
My guard grunts. I guess that’s a no.
The remainder of the ride is short and quiet. I’m dreading telling the guys, knowing they will surely blow this out of proportion. We were never in danger; the guy was just a creep.
Our guards escort us into the building. My eyes search the room, looking for the Soul Serenade boys.
“They’re on their way. About two minutes out,” my guard tells us.
Logan and I stand behind them, backs to the wall. I can only imagine how ridiculous we look.
“What the fuck happened?” I hear Kacen’s booming voice.
Here we go.
Cole’s long strides carry him directly to me. Reaching out, he grabs my hand and pulls me in to him. “What happened?” He’s holding on tight to his anger. I’m impressed, actually.
“Nothing, some creepy guy in a suit with slicked back hair was waiting outside the bus. He said he was looking for the band, and he knew who Logan was, but she didn’t recognize him,” I’m quick to explain. Who knows how long until the fuse is lit.
“Did he touch you? Logan?” he grits out.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I place my hands on either side of his face, capturing his full attention. “No. I told you what happened. They”—I motion with my head to our guards, who have stepped back a few feet. Neither has said a word, letting the guys talk to us first—“are just being cautious. Doing the job you hired them to do. We’re both fine. Nothing inappropriate was even said. The guy just gave us the creeps.”
Cole buries his face in my neck. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I hold on tight.
Finally, lifting his head, he seeks out the guard assigned to me. Keeping me close, he offers him his hand. “Thank you.”