23. Double Divas
TWENTY-THREE
double divas
It’s been a long time since I was last able to fully relax. But being in the house I grew up in, with my family close by, I’m content. That didn’t used to be the case. I was always itching to get out, to see new places and experience what the world had to offer. Escape the past as much as determine my future. But right now, here on this worn-in couch, with Brianna’s legs across my lap as she reclines against the cushions I laid on as a teenager, I’m right where I should be.
I watch her out of the corner of my eye, not wanting her to detect my blatant stare. She’s absorbed in some cooking show my mom recommended this morning.
Two days hanging out at home has brought out a domestic side in Brianna, it seems. All of a sudden she wants to try making dinner with my mom, who’s happy to help her learn.
Brianna’s gaze remains locked on the screen, totally wrapped up in whatever dish the host is working on. I’m not paying attention to it at all. All of my focus is on her. The way her hand casually winds and unwinds a lock of her golden hair. The way her foot sways slightly back and forth, brushing against my thigh and causing tingles to shoot through my leg every time she does. The way she breathes slow and even, proving she’s totally at ease in her surroundings.
It’s the final observation that basically does me in. Seeing her content, peaceful ... it’s been my goal since the moment I said yes to Char’s plan. And I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the way existing in her peace makes me feel.
Absentmindedly, I reach down and put my hand on Brianna’s leg. My fingers end up on her ankle as my thumb swipes a smooth trail across her fuzzy sock. I can’t help but smile when in my peripheral vision I catch Brianna’s eyes fluttering at the contact.
“That tickles,” she says. It’s the first thing she’s said in over an hour. Her eyes shift to me, away from the screen.
“Does it?” I smirk and brush her ankle again.
Brianna tries to pull her leg away, but I’ve got a grip on her foot, so she can’t. “Gotcha.”
Her gaze narrows, a new determination written all over her face. “Oh, it’s on.” Her voice is laced with the promise of retaliation.I swallow in anticipation.
I’m not scared of her, but I am scared of how whatever she has planned might affect me. Here. In my mom’s house. With the woman just a few feet away in the kitchen. Experiencing Brianna’s playful side is doing all kinds of things to my body. I’d adjust my shorts, but I’m afraid to draw attention to what’s going on down there.
Brianna remains motionless. My eyebrows rise as I take her in. She looks like a tiger assessing its prey. Me.
Knowing she’s about to pounce is a fucking turn-on.
And then she’s suddenly out of my grip.
“Whoa!” I say as her foot twists away, flips her body around, and then she’s on top of me, my arms pinned against the couch as she straddles my lap.
Holy shit. I close my eyes as she shifts her weight from side to side, pressing right against the erection now trapped between us.
“Who’s got who now?” she whispers in my ear .
“That tickles,” I say, breathless. “Those are some moves you’ve got.”
Fuck.
“I had a great teacher.”
I open my eyes, looking up at the goddess above me, her golden locks a curtain around us. The priceless twinkle in her eyes.
Brianna’s thumb rubs along my wrist. Her hold is nowhere near strong enough to keep me here, but there’s no way I’m attempting to get away from her. Our eyes stay locked, and her gaze says the same thing my mind is screaming.
I wish we were alone.
Screw it. I need to kiss her. Right now.
Something about the way I’m looking at her, full of hunger and need, along with the press of my arousal against her core, must cause her to loosen her hold on my wrists. I pull her in, my hands cupping her face and pulling her lips down to mine. I devour her, prey taking on predator. She allows this small show of dominance for a minute before turning the tables once again.
Brianna pulls away. Before I even have the chance to trail after her, she rolls to the side, twisting her shoulders as she pulls me with her. We end up on our sides, facing each other. But she maintains control. It’s Brianna who surges across, capturing my lips in a greedy display as she swings her leg up and over my hip. My hands slip into her hair, pushing it back and out of the way, so I have access to the neck I’m desperate to nibble.
I’m desperate for her.
Without warning, the front door slams shut two rooms away. Brianna’s entire body shoots to the opposite end of the couch in a blur.
Private moment over.
“I could use some help here!” The irritated voice of my youngest sister echoes through the house. “ Hello! I’m back. Help with the bags!”
Great. Not only are we no longer alone—as alone as possible in a house with up to six other people around—but we’re now being graced with Elle’s larger-than-life presence.
Brianna faces me, eyes wide. She looks scared. She should be. Elle is ... kind of a diva, now that I think about it.
“Honey, my hands are covered in dough, and your dad is out scouting the grounds with Mike.” We hear my mom’s reasonable tone—an attempt to calm Elle’s crazy down.
“What about Mandy ?” The words by themselves would sound like a normal inquiry if they weren’t paired with the whiny tone of Elle’s voice. It’s her verbal equivalent of stomping her foot.
“Busy with the twins. Why don’t you ask Zack for a hand? He’s in the back room.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Sold out by my own mom.
Heavy silence pours in from the front hall. I know that sound. It’s the sound of Elle’s wheels turning with a plan.
I hate her plans.
Finally, the clomping of her shoes rings out loud and clear. My sister has the loudest steps known to man. I don’t understand how someone so petite can literally rattle windows when she walks.
I turn to look as she enters the room, scanning it. Her eyes land on me, and the evil smirk I know far too well plants itself on her lips—its favorite resting place.
“Yo, sis. ’Sup?” I give her a salute.
“I need your muscle for my bags.” She crosses her arms and taps her foot as if I’m keeping her waiting.
“Bags? You were gone for, like, two days. How many bags did you take?”
“Not take . Bought.” She drops her hands to her hips and rolls her eyes. “I did some shopping.”
“I’m kind of busy right now,” I say, glancing at Brianna.
Elle follows my line of sight.
I will say this: the look on Elle’s face when she sees Brianna Royce sitting on our couch pretty much makes up for most of what she did to me when she was in high school. Well, almost. Elle did some pretty devious shit. It’s obvious Mom didn’t explain I brought someone home with me, let alone who. I think I love my mom a little more right now. Maybe that’s why she sold me out, so I could experience the look on Elle’s face at this very moment.
“Holy fu?—”
“Elle!” I interrupt her mid-curse. Her look of fangirl shock is matched against mine of protective ... What the hell am I? Boyfriend for hire? Bodyguard with benefits?
Okay, not going there.
“Oh my gosh! Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Elle sounds panicked, but one look at Brianna tells me she’s feeling the same thing. Being faced with a slightly unstable, completely pampered superfan is not Bree’s favorite experience. And here she is, suffering through it in the very sanctuary I’ve brought her to.
“Hi. Nice to meet you.”
And there’s the tone of Brianna’s public persona coming through. The last thing I want is for her to let that phony side take over while she’s here, in a safe zone. I have to step in to defuse the situation for Brianna’s sake.
“Elle, meet Brianna. Brianna, this is my youngest sister, Elle. Clearly, she’s a big fan of yours, and a big pain in the ass of mine.”
“Zack! Why would you say that to ... to ...?” Elle just makes awkward gestures in Brianna’s direction. I’ve never seen her so flustered.
I love it.
“To her?” I thumb toward Brianna, being as casual and comfortable around the huge pop star as I can. “Because, Elle, she should know what hanging around with you will be like.” I shrug.
“Oh my gawd!” Elle throws her hands in the air and grunts. Then she closes her eyes, inhales dramatically while pressing her fingers together as if in meditation, and finally opens her eyes again, plastering on a smile.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Brianna. I’m so sorry you’ve been forced to deal with him.” She points to me, and my stomach clenches. Elle’s more accurate than she realizes. She crosses her arms and tilts her head. “Has it been just awful? All that healthy eating and no fun ...”
Brianna’s shoulders drop, then she actually laughs. “It’s been okay. I’ve really enjoyed the popcorn.” Her gaze drifts to mine—a little secret code between us, and I’ve received the message.
She likes our honesty.
Elle’s forehead wrinkles. “Well, anyway, just let me know if you need a junk-food fix. I know where all the candy is stashed so my little niece and nephew don’t get to it. Between Zack and Mandy, no one in this house is allowed to pig out.”
I sense Elle has dialed down on her typical crazy as well as the fangirl energy. I didn’t want both personalities to get together. Brianna already has enough to deal with in those two categories. But sadly, it’s also the end of our alone time relaxing in the back room. Elle rounds the couch to take a seat, turning her attention to Brianna.
“Can I ask you something honestly?” She leans in toward Brianna as if she’s about to tell a secret.
“I guess so,” Brianna says, now snuggled on the couch with her legs curled up and her feet tucked underneath her.
“Is it just me, or has Zaraya completely lost her mind with the face tattoos?” It figures my sister would launch into pop-star gossip, mentioning the one singer who’s always compared to Brianna.
Before meeting Bree, I paid zero attention to this stuff, even though Elle has always followed Hollywood and the lifestyles of the rich and the famous. Spending time with Brianna, however, has given me a crash course in all things fame-related. Including the knowledge Elle just picked the perfect topic to bond with Brianna over.
“Right? As soon as I saw those pictures, my first thought was, ‘Girl, you will regret those tiny pawprints on the side of your face.’” Brianna leans a bit closer to Elle. “And she’s really demanding behind the scenes. ”
“No! I mean, how?” Elle leans closer still, the two caught up in mutual distain for Brianna’s rival singer.
“When we performed at the Billboard awards last year, her rider was nuts.”
A rider, I’ve learned, is the name given to all the requirements a celebrity has for their performance. The venue has to provide everything, from particular food to transportation, requested in the contract. Brianna’s rider is pretty basic.
“She wanted some pricey Japanese masseuse on site to relieve her stress, and a private chef to make her detox smoothies ... Oh my gosh, I don’t know how she drank that smelly stuff.”
Brianna and Elle continue laughing and talking, so I figure I should go grab whatever bags Elle was whining about, make myself useful. They don’t even look my way when I get up from the couch.
When I get to the car, I find the door left wide-open and the trunk popped. Typical Elle. She leaves lights on all the time too. Total waste of natural resources.
As I round the car to the trunk and see the twenty or so shopping bags my sister brought back from her trip, my phone rings in my pocket. A quick glance at the contact has my heart pounding, so I don’t hesitate to swipe across the screen.
“Hey, man. Have you caught him?”
Clinton responds with a question instead of the answers I’m desperate to hear. “Is Brianna with you?”
“Well, yeah. Not right next to me. She’s inside, I’m outside.”
“Okay. I wanted to tell you what we’ve got so far without her overhearing. I know how nervous she gets. I’ll let you filter out what she needs to hear.”
“I gotta say, man, you’re makingmenervous right now.”
“Well, the case has gotten more complicated than simply an obsessed fan.”
I take a deep breath, wondering what the hell is going on now. “Just lay it on me.”
“We caught the intruder—a guy with a rap sheet full of misdemeanors like petty theft. He doesn’t fit the stalker profile at all. Says he was hired by someone through a phone call to break in and leave the roses and the letter. The money and the key were left for him at a pickup point.”
“What? What the hell is all this, Clinton?”
“All evidence points to the fact someone has set it up to appear like Brianna has a stalker. Until we catch whoever put this guy up to breaking into her house, these incidents might continue to happen. And until we know the motivation behind the actions, we can’t guarantee her safety.”
I run my hand through my hair, trying to decide how to break this news to Brianna.“So this has nothing at all to do with some crazed fan.”
“It doesn’t appear to, but until we find a motive, we can’t rule anything out. It could be to scare her, or it could be something worse.”
I don’t want to ask what he means by “worse.” “Okay, Clinton. Keep me updated, will you?”
“Course I will. I’ve still got surveillance set up on her house and her office, just in case they make a move. I’ll let you know what we find.”
I thank him again and end the call.
Brianna’s favorite thing about us is our honesty. The popcorn. So that’s what I’ll do. I’ll tell her what Clinton said. I’m not keeping her in the dark the way Logan did, even if she’ll revert back to the scared girl I first met.
Resolved, I head back into the house to be the guy she needs.