Chapter 9 #2
I blink. Sage is watching me with that knowing look she gets when she’s about to say something I don’t want to hear.
“Where’d you go just now?”
“Nowhere. I’m fine. I heard you.”
“Okay, he’s on his way. We just wait for the knock.”
“Sage.” My voice comes out smaller than I intended. “How did you convince him to do this? To upend his whole life for four months just to play pretend bodyguard for a pop star he barely knows?”
Sage is quiet for a moment. When she answers, her tone is softer than usual. “I didn’t have to convince him.”
“You… What do you mean?”
“I mean I showed up at his apartment ready to threaten him into compliance, and before I could even finish my pitch, he was already volunteering to help. He offered to make a public statement. To take the fall. To do whatever it took to make things easier for you.” She shakes her head slightly, like she’s processing it even now.
“He’s a born bodyguard. Willing to sacrifice himself to protect you. ”
A gentle warmth blooms in my chest, followed immediately by suspicion that crawls up my throat. “And how much are you paying him?”
Her expression doesn’t change. “Does it matter?”
“Yes. It matters.”
“Why?”
Because I need to know if this is real. Because everyone in my life wants something from me, and I need to know what he wants, but I’m also terrified of finding out.
Because if he’s just doing this for money, then that night on the balcony was a transaction, not a connection.
And if he’s not? That might be scarier. God, I don’t think I can survive another person turning out to be less than I hoped, but I also don’t know if I can handle someone actually living up to my expectations.
“It just does.”
Sage studies me for a long moment. Then she reaches across the space between us and squeezes my knee. “He cares about you, Charlie. We all do. Just focus on that.”
It’s not an answer. But somehow, it’s enough.
Knock, knock. Two firm thuds announce Taio’s arrival.
My stomach does a backflip. Then a somersault. Then it just goes haywire, like a gymnast on crack.
“Charlie.” Sage clasps my wrist. “Breathe. Smile. This is going to be fine.”
The door handle clicks.
Light floods in, harsh, accompanied by a wall of sound—shouting, clicking, the roar of a crowd that’s been waiting for this moment.
I blink against the onslaught, momentarily frozen, my body refusing to cooperate with my brain’s desperate commands to move.
They’re already yelling at me, some slurs, some pleas.
A medley of “Charlie, you’re beautiful, please look this way,” and “The world is calling you a cheating whore. What do you have to say?” They butter me up before they cut me down. That’s the routine. But this time…
Taio’s here.
His broad, tall frame fills the doorway, blocking out the chaos behind him like a human shield.
His hand extends toward me, palm up, steady as a rock.
And when our eyes meet, he smiles. Not a professional smile.
Not a practiced, publicity-ready smile. A real smile, warm and slightly crooked, like he’s genuinely happy to see me.
“Hey, Tweety Bird. Nice to see you,” he says, low enough that only I can hear. “Ready?”
Did he just nickname me? Oh, this is not the moment to swoon. Not in front of these accosting cameras.
I take his hand, trying to ignore the warmth in our touch and my nervous system short-circuiting.
His fingers close around mine, warm and solid, and I let him pull me out of the SUV and into the storm.
The noise is deafening. Cameras flash from every direction, a strobe-light assault that makes it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.
People are shouting my name—some in support, some in accusation, all of them hungry.
I feel hands reaching toward me, brushing against my jacket, my arm, my hair, and I have to fight the urge to curl into a ball and disappear.
But Taio doesn’t let me disappear. He keeps his hand firmly on the small of my back, guiding me forward, his body angled to block the rowdiest of the crowd.
When someone gets too close, he smoothly redirects them without breaking stride.
When a camera gets shoved in my face, he steps between us, creating space.
He moves like water around obstacles, never stopping, never hesitating, always keeping me moving toward the tarmac. He does this like he’s practiced.
“You’re doing great,” he murmurs near my ear. “Almost there.”
I focus on his voice. On the pressure of his hand against my spine. On putting one foot in front of the other until the roar of the crowd starts to fade and the sleek white shape of the private jet comes into view.
The stairs unfold before us like a ladder to salvation. Taio guides me up, Sage close behind, and then we’re through the cabin door and the noise cuts off like someone hit a mute button.
Silence. Beautiful, blessed silence.
I sag against the nearest surface, a lavish cream-colored leather seat that could fit two of me, and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My hands are shaking again. My heart is pounding. But I’m here. I made it. We made it.
“That was intense,” Taio breathes out, stepping past me into the cabin. “Is it always like that?”
“That was tame in comparison,” I tell him.
He lets out a low whistle. “How in the world do you get used to that?”
“I don’t.” I hold up my shaking hands. “Fake it ’til you make it, right?”
I crane my neck to examine him head to toe.
He’s dressed like a cat burglar who moonlights as a fitness influencer—all-black everything.
Black slacks that somehow look both professional and ready for a parkour escape, a black T-shirt that clings to him like a barnacle, and a black athletic jacket that’s fighting a losing battle with his shoulders, the zipper barely closed over his broad chest.
He looks different up close. Not bad different—just a brand-new canvas to admire. His jaw is stronger than I remembered. His eyes are a warmer brown. His lips are apple red. There’s a small scar near his left eyebrow that I didn’t notice before, and I find myself wondering how he got it.
“Welcome aboard, everyone.” The flight attendant—a polished blonde in a navy uniform—gestures toward the cabin’s interior. “Please make yourselves comfortable. We’ll be departing shortly.”
The plane is obscene. Even by private jet standards, it’s ridiculous—a flying palace.
The main cabin stretches out before us like a high-end living room, all cream leather and polished wood and ambient lighting that makes everyone look like they’re in a perfume commercial.
There’s a full bar along one wall, stocked with bottles I can’t pronounce.
A sectional sofa that could seat six. Individual seats that recline into beds.
Sage moves past me toward the back of the cabin, already on her phone, barking orders at whoever’s unlucky enough to be on the other end.
Her assistant—a nervous-looking guy named Derek who I’ve met maybe three times—scurries after her with a tablet and an expression of uncontained panic.
I don’t even think anything is particularly wrong, he’s just a bit squirrely.
The flight crew disappears into the galley, tinkering like flight crews do.
And then it’s just me and Taio, standing in the middle of this absurd luxury, looking at each other like two people who aren’t sure what happens next.
“So,” he says.
“So,” I echo.
“Nice plane.”
“It’s my dad’s. Well, one of them.”
“One of the planes, or one of the dads?”
I laugh—a real laugh, surprising myself. “One of the planes. I only have one dad. Oh, wait. Actually, I guess now two. Am I allowed to claim a bio dad I’ve never met?”
“Most definitely.”
I hold my elbows, rubbing them like a genie might appear. “I can’t believe I told you all that within minutes of knowing you. I’m too much, huh?”
“You’re not too much for me.” He shrugs like it’s a casual statement, but there’s something distinct in his expression, like maybe he wants me to read between the lines. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you told me. It helped me understand.”
“Understand what?”
“You. Why you were so…” He searches for the word. “Untethered that night? Like you were floating away and looking for something to grab on to. Like you really needed a friend.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s too accurate. Too close to the bone.
“I did,” I admit. “I do. But who can I trust? The song is ‘No New Friends’ for a reason.”
“Lonely at the top?” Taio asks.
“And the middle. And the bottom too,” I answer back. “I’ve been lonely all over the place.”
He holds up his hand. “Condolence high five?”
My face scrunches up like I caught a whiff of something sour. “Did you just offer me a high five?” I ask while staring at his massive palm, mere inches from my face.
“Well, I’d hug you, but that got us into a lot of trouble last time.”
“There are no cameras in he—”
But the plane shudders slightly as the engines power up, cutting me off.
The movement is my warning to get my ass into a seat and tie myself down with the seat belt like a roast chicken gets trussed up.
Taio takes the seat across from me, facing me, his long legs stretched out into the aisle, his body relaxed in a way mine hasn’t been in weeks.
“It’s really nice to see you again,” he says. That crooked smile is back, the one that makes my stomach do complicated things. I want to stay focused on his gorgeous face, but as the plane starts to move, I feel my insides floating around untethered, like a lava lamp.
My breathing starts to shallow, I can’t help it. I can’t control it. Sage must be busy bossing her assistant around, because she never misses takeoff with me. It’s always either Claire, Spence, or Sage who hold my hands through this. I’ve always been and will always be a nervous flyer.
“Can you get Sage?” I whimper, too afraid to leave my seat as the jets really start to whir.