Chapter 12 #2
I’ve been guarded my whole life—by coaches, by teams, by staff. I’ve walked through arena tunnels with security. I’ve had people manage entrances and exits like it’s choreography.
I’ve never been the one doing it.
We hit the door. The girls follow, shouting, pleading, jostling one another.
“RAFE, PLEASE!”
“JUST ONE!”
“WE’LL DIE!”
One of them lunges again, her hand catching Rafe’s sleeve. He stumbles, and my heart stops. I reach out instinctively, catching him by the shoulder and pulling him back toward me. I step between him and the girl so hard she bounces backward.
“Enough,” I growl.
She freezes.
Maybe it’s my size. Maybe it’s my tone. Maybe it’s the way my patience has evaporated completely. Either way, she backs off.
We hit the parking lot.
Miles unlocks the SUV with shaking hands, shouting, “Get in, get in.”
Rafe climbs into the back seat first, scrambling across to the far side. Eli and Drew pile in. Miles gets into the driver’s seat. I slide in last, my whole body shielding the opening until the door shuts.
When it does, the sound is final. Sealing.
The girls bang on the window for a second, faces distorted, phones raised. Then Miles peels out of the parking lot so fast, the tires spit gravel.
For several long seconds, nobody speaks. The only sound is breathing. Rafe’s is ragged. He’s shaking beside me.
My chest aches with delayed adrenaline, my hands clenched so tightly that my knuckles burn. I keep my body angled toward him anyway, protective even though we’re moving, even though we’re safe.
Miles curses under his breath. Eli lets out a shaky laugh that isn’t humor. Drew stares straight ahead like he’s replaying it.
Rafe finally pulls his sunglasses off. His eyes are bright. Not teary. Not dramatic. Just overwhelmed. “That was…,” he starts.
“Fucked,” Eli finishes.
Rafe huffs a laugh that breaks in the middle. “Yeah.” He glances at me. His voice goes smaller. “Thanks.”
I swallow hard. “Of course.”
Miles adjusts the rearview mirror, eyes sharp. “Everyone okay?”
Rafe nods, but it’s not convincing. I feel him press closer, shoulder against mine like he’s seeking stability. It’s instinctive. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
Eli breaks the tension. “So, breakfast was fun.”
Drew snorts. “We should do it more often.”
Miles shoots him a look. “Shut up.”
Eli laughs again, still shaky. “Okay, yeah. Too soon.”
Rafe drags a hand over his face. “I hate that it got like that.”
“It’s not your fault,” Drew says immediately.
“It kind of is,” Rafe replies, bitter for the first time. “I mean—”
Miles cuts in, voice calm but definitive. “It’s not your fault. It’s the environment. It’s the escalation. It’s people forgetting you’re a person.”
Silence again.
I stare out the window at the blur of streets and sunlight and normal life. Then I say what’s been forming in my head since the moment that girl grabbed his arm. “You might need to start thinking about security.”
The words land heavy.
Eli turns around in his seat. “Dude—”
“I’m serious,” I say. “That wasn’t just annoying. That was unsafe.”
Rafe’s head turns toward me sharply. “Ollie….”
“We got lucky,” I continue, keeping my voice even. “That it was just a few fans and not… worse. That it was daylight. That there were enough of us. But what if you’re alone next time? Or with just one of the guys? What if it’s outside a venue and people are drunk?”
Rafe’s jaw tightens.
Miles nods slowly. “He’s right.”
The implications bloom in my chest like ice. Security means more people. More eyes. More risk. It also means bringing someone else into the fold of our life. Into our secret. Into the thing we’ve managed—somehow—to protect.
Even as I say it, I realize what it could mean for us.
We’re already pushing our luck living together, even if officially we don’t. We have nondisclosures, sure. We have doormen and staff and a housekeeper who comes twice a week and have signed paperwork thicker than my playbook.
And still there’s been nothing. No gossip. No photos. No Rafe slipping in and out of our building captured by some hungry camera. No whisper campaigns.
Security changes the math. It makes everything official in a way we can’t take back.
Rafe stares at his hands for a long moment, then glances at Miles.
“Call Rachael,” Miles says without hesitation.
Rafe looks at me again, searching. “You’re sure?”
I hesitate only because of what it could cost, but his manager needs to know. Then I nod. “Yes.”
Miles taps his phone, connecting Bluetooth. The line rings once, twice.
Rachael answers on the third ring, voice brisk and alert. “Miles.”
“Rach,” Miles says. “We had a situation.”
“What kind?”
Rafe inhales sharply. Drew shifts. Eli mutters something rude under his breath.
Miles keeps his tone controlled. “Fans. Breakfast spot. They rushed us. Someone grabbed Rafe.”
There’s a pause, and then Rachael’s voice hardens. “Are you all safe?”
“Yes,” Miles says. “But it shook everyone up.”
“Okay,” she says. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Miles does. He keeps it factual. Clear. No emotion, just detail. I listen without speaking, watching Rafe’s hands as he worries his fingers together in his lap like he’s trying to anchor himself.
When Miles finishes, Rachael exhales. “I agree,” she says immediately. “It’s time.”
Rafe’s head snaps up. “Time?”
“Yes,” she says. “Your domestic tour changed everything. You had security then. You can’t pretend you can go back to pre-tour anonymity. Especially not together.”
My stomach twists at that last word.
Together.
Rachael doesn’t know what that means for us, but she knows the optics of the band moving as a unit. She knows the label will want protection now. She knows public risk.
She continues, “I’m going to speak to the record label today. We’ll arrange something interim. In the meantime, you do not go out alone. You do not go anywhere without at least one other person. Do you understand me?”
Miles nods even though she can’t see him. “Yes.”
Rafe clears his throat. “Yeah.”
“And get home,” Rachael adds. “Now. No more stops.”
Miles’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “We’re on it.”
“Good,” she says. “Call me again when you’re there.”
The call ends, and the SUV feels heavier after. Miles drives with total focus, the city sliding by outside. Eli tries to crack another joke, but it dies in his throat. Drew reaches over and squeezes Rafe’s knee once, a grounding gesture.
Rafe leans into me slightly again. I feel it. Feel him choosing closeness even in front of the guys, too shaken to care about performative distance. Then he speaks, voice firm despite the tremor still in it. “I’m coming home with you.”
The statement lands like a weight.
Eli glances back with raised brows. Drew pretends he didn’t hear. Miles keeps his eyes on the road like he’s suddenly fascinated by lane markings.
I hesitate. Not because I don’t want him there. God, I want him there so badly it hurts. But because my brain is already sprinting through risks. Cameras. Paps. The building. The staff. After what just happened, fear sharpens everything.
“Rafe,” I start carefully. “Maybe you should—”
“No,” he cuts in. Not angry, just certain. “I’m not going back to the mansion. Not today.”
“We can keep you safe there,” Miles says quickly.
Rafe shakes his head. “I don’t want safe there. I want safe with him.”
My throat burns with emotion. I try again. “Is that smart? After—”
Rafe turns fully to me, eyes burning now, the adrenaline turning into something stubborn and protective in him too.
“We have two blissful days,” he says. “Two. And then you’re back on the road and I’m back to my own schedule.
I am not spending them apart because some people can’t keep their hands to themselves. ”
Eli whistles low. “Damn.”
Drew smirks. “He’s not wrong.”
Miles mutters, “You’re both insane.”
Rafe’s mouth twitches. “Yes.”
Then, because he can’t resist trying to shift the mood, he adds, voice rougher, “Also, I plan to spend every moment of it naked, and I’m not doing that at the mansion with these perves hanging around.”
Eli cackles. “Fuck you. You wish I was interested in seeing you and your hubby getting jiggy.”
Drew laughs, tension easing at last. “Jesus Christ.”
Miles groans. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Heat rises up my neck, despite everything, while Rafe watches my reaction like it’s a prize.
“Ooh…,” Eli says smugly. “He’s blushing.”
“I am not,” I protest.
Rafe leans closer, murmuring against my ear so only I can hear, “You absolutely are.”
The softness of it steadies me. The certainty. Reluctantly, I exhale. “Okay.”
His eyes soften instantly. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I repeat. “Let’s go home.”
He relaxes like he’s been holding his breath since the café.
The rest of the drive passes in a strange kind of quiet. While it’s not comfortable exactly, it is calmer. The shock drains slowly, and the city becomes familiar again.
When we finally reach our building, Miles pulls into the secure underground garage without hesitation. The gate closes behind us with a mechanical finality that makes my shoulders sag with relief.
Safety.
We climb out quickly. The guys are still keyed up, but they put on casual faces like muscle memory. Drew claps Rafe on the shoulder. Eli pulls him into a brief hug. Miles checks the garage corners once like he’s expecting danger to leap out.
Then Rafe turns to me, hand brushing my back. “Home,” he says quietly.
I nod.
We move toward the elevator together, the sound of our footsteps echoing off concrete.
Behind us, Miles lifts a hand in farewell. Eli shouts something obscene about birthday sex out of the car window, and Drew laughs. The car pulls away.