CHAPTER THREE
CHA CHA
Soft lighting glows along a short path from Drake’s truck to the house. That still stands in darkness, until he opens it from his phone and lights that, too.
“Aren’t you the snazzy one?” I murmur, placing a tentative heel on the loose stone walk.
His soft laugh at my back reminds me that I’m still not alone. Maybe I never will be.
Maybe I don’t want to be alone anymore.
Out here, in the strange mountains I can’t see but know are there from their all pervading darkness against the glitter studded velvet backdrop, the chill air wraps around me.
The reminder of how small a creature I am has never been so fierce.
Something the city, with all its brightness and chatter and white noise often knocks away.
Right now, in this moment, I enjoy feeling…small.
Quiet.
My eyes slip shut, blocking out the mountains with their heavy presence, and the cold stars above.
Gravity takes hold, different from the sort that kept us anchored to the world when Drake seemed intent on killing us for the past two hours or more.
This is…grounding A weight that draws me to the place where we stand.
Suddenly the only presence I’m aware of is his, the warmth of the man behind me, and I know my assessment of him before was right.
He won’t budge, and he won’t leave. This man is formidable. Unyielding.
I pity the stalker who comes up against the brick wall of a bodyguard behind me. He won’t win. But more than that—here, without all the clutter and chatter and incessant, never ending noise that didn’t matter at all when it would stop anyway, I can listen.
And I am safe.
“Are you ready to go inside, princess?” Drake’s words are soft, eking into the quiet night, but not shattering the silence.
Because he belongs here, and I’m the stranger.
“Yes. Please," I whisper, seeking permission.
From him. From the air itself.
“It’s okay to be Lost,” he murmurs, still unmoving behind me.
Heat warms my waist, but no hands contact my body through my silk jumpsuit. “Are we lost?” I stare at the house that glows softly, lit from within as we wait outside. There’s something in that, but I don’t know what it means just yet.
Drake’s breath brushes the back of my neck. “Welcome to Lost Mountain, Cha Cha. I only come here when I don't want to be found.”
I want to twist and look up at him, seek some reassurance in his face, but I don't. Maybe here, solace isn’t something I need. I open my eyes and stare forward instead, accepting my fate, for now. “So we are lost?”
“Yep.” A rough hand slides through mine. Without another word Drake strides past me, toward the house, my bag in his grip.
I trot in his wake, trying to keep up with his longer, steadier strides. Back at the arena, I didn’t take the time to assess my new companion for the foreseeable future. Maybe I should have.
Drake—no last name, Bodyguard will do—wears his suit as though it's a second skin that sits uncomfortably across his shoulders like he can’t wait to shed it.
Dark hair that’s neither too short nor too long covers his head.
His body moves smoothly in a cadence I recognize.
My new bodyguard might not be a dancer, but he has the grace of a hunter.
A shiver ripples over me. As though sensing the change, his hand tightens on mine a fraction, though his grip isn’t painful.
Just firm. It never occurs to me to pull away.
Because this man has instantly become my safe zone. It’s just his driving that sucks.
Residual light from the house reaches us, the black of his suit jacket warming a little in the yellow light, mine still in shadow. I tug back, unsure why I can’t keep going.
Drake freezes, and glances back at me. “Cha Cha?”
For the few times I’ve sassed him out about calling me princess already, I could do with one of those snarky endearments right now. I’m not even sure why.
“I just—” I stare up at the house, over his shoulder. It’s a long way up.
He’s taller than me, by a lot. That's not hard. At five feet, three inches, most people are taller than me. Even in heels. I’m pretty sure Drake doesn’t wear those. He’ll have to duck beneath the lintel to get inside, and it looks like it’s regular height.
He faces me in full, and my heart pounds. “Tell me.”
I yank my hand free. “You want me to go inside, so let’s go inside.”
I know I’m being contrary, but isn’t that the character I'm meant to play? She slips out so easily to cover the discomfort of being the sole spotlight of someone else’s attention.
Weirdly, I'm not used to someone looking directly at me. They’re always too busy seeking someone else’s attention, and that suits me just fine.
Interviewers, media…even fans want to preen and talk about themselves.
They are the ones before the camera. They are who want to be on film.
I’m simply the byproduct who got them there.
Even the sasaeng—at least, my version of the obsessed fans who follow me around like custom dressed mini mes—want to be me, not actually talk to me.
Kind of an ego drop.
Once, I wanted that. Back when Helium3 was first created, and the media smashed into me and my bandmates, being the spotlight mattered.
Rankings, social media…it was so important.
And fans. Oh, the fans. I never understood what being a K-pop star meant until then.
Sure, I worked through the system, spent years training and not sleeping and studying, all to be selected…
but at the end of it all, the fans were who made it for me.
Once the media smash hit us, I breathed it in. a little too much, maybe. Then, I was exactly what Drake accused me of being. Now?
The princess act is exactly that.
“I only like being touched with permission.” I stare him straight in the eye, focus wide, and stalk past him.
A skill perfected on the stage that means I don’t fall on my ass when the lights go down. Good thing, too, because Drake, the master engineer that he is, does exactly that.
The garden lights turn off as the house blacks out. All at the touch of a button presumably on his phone, the same way he set everything off when we arrived.
I freeze. One misstep and I really will end up on my butt. Because this isn’t a flat stage, it was a freaking garden path, uneven and wobbly. I still wear the platform wedges that I walked out of the stadium wearing after finding my dressing room more totaled than when I left it before the show.
By design. Not mine.
“Back here, princess,” Drake murmurs without ever raising his voice.
“I told you—”
The warmth that encompassed my waist before returns, but this time his hands clamp down, securing me in place. My bag that he carried drops to the ground, and something inside shatters.
My naivety. Maybe.
“Here, you’re safe. But that attitude? Once we walk through that door, you’re a normal person, Cha Cha. It’s just you and me here. No cameras. No entourage. No games. There are rules, and they’re made to keep you safe. Understand?” He emphasises that last word, squeezing my waist tight.
“I don’t remember having a bodyguard that was so hands on,” I manage.
Lie. I slept with every damn one of them. But I’m not about to fess up to that little morsel. He’ll find that out later.
His laugh is dark, and far too close to my ear.
Warm breath brushes my skin in an undeniably intimate caress.
“Don’t bullshit me, princess. I know exactly who you are.
Who you’ve spent the last years fucking on your team.
Who you ignore, and who you toy with. Before I took this job, I did what your stalker does.
Can you guess what that means?” his hands squeeze a little more, until his fingers join in the middle.
Oh, hell. I can barely manage my next inhale, and it’s not my lungs that he’s crushing. And it’s not from the pressure. He’s done his research. The proximity, the restriction, the threat…it’s everything that I crave.
“You watched me. Stalked me,” I breathe.
“Yeah, I stalked you, Cha Cha. You know what I saw?”
I close my eyes as a wave of dizziness hits me. My knees buckle but Drake doesn’t let me fall. He holds me up, though his touch softens. “What did you see?”
His mouth touches the corner of mine. “I saw a girl alone filling the gaping holes in her life when no one else heard what she screamed above the noise of the crowd.”
The warm hands let go, his touch disappearing. I wobble and I stand as cold replaces warmth. Light returns. Drake stands in front of me, my bag in his hand as he opens the door and gestures me forward as though nothing happened between us.
As though he didn’t just give me the most intimate minute or less of my life, and show me that he saw something that no one else in the last years has noticed or acknowledged about my existence. Not even with the entire world watching. Not even when I screamed.
But he sees.
He knows.
“Come on, princess. I’ll show you your room.” Dark eyes are filled with challenge as he watches me.
Waits.
For me to crumble. Fall. Maybe he wants to be the one to catch me.
That’s cute. Maybe he can. Later. Right now? I offer him a different challenge. The one I set every bodyguard I’ve ever had. And in a career like mine? I’ve had a few.
“Ooh, a tour?” I batt my eyelashes in my bodyguard’s direction as I sweep past him, relieved my feet work the way they should and that my emotions remain off my face. “Does it come with a goodnight kiss at the end?”
Drake’s expression is priceless. Apparently my mask is better than his.
The door doesn’t close behind me, and he doesn't follow me inside. I spin in a circle, taking in the heavy exposed beams in the roof, the floor to ceiling window that looks out over a view I can’t see tonight. The house is open plan, huge and stunning. And it smells like…
Him.
I smile as I face him, and it’s genuine. “Your home is beautiful, Drake,” I say softly.
His eyes narrow, as though he's intent on deciphering my newest act.
Good luck with that, Drake Bodyguard.
Not that it matters. He won’t last any longer than the last one.
They never do.
I follow him down the hall when he turns a sharp right, and leads me halfway along. The door taps open when he gives it a gentle nudge, and dims the bright light before I get there.
“Your room, princess.” He steps back when I reach the doorway and presses my bag into my arms. “Uh uh. Tour is tomorrow. Tonight you sleep here.” A crooked grin decorates his rough jawed face. Sharp eyes stare down at me, unflinching.
“And my request?” I can be just as demanding, but tonight, I play the sweet guest.
For now.
Drake’s arched lips press together, though I'm unsure if he’s holding back laughter or an insult. “A kiss from me is earned, Cha Cha. Enjoy the rest of your night alone.”
He waits until I go back into the room, never breaking eye contact until the door closes softly between us.
Maybe Drake Bodyguard will be more fun than the others to play with. Maybe he’ll last longer than usual. And I really do need to learn his last name.
But later. Tonight, he’s right. I need to sleep before the sun starts to rise.
Tomorrow, I have a bodyguard to seduce.