Chapter 9 Kolton
Kolton
My life felt like one giant level up. A year working at Bridgewater Security led to the chance meeting of a lifetime and an opportunity I’d have been stupid not to take.
A week spent standing outside Sloane Rivera’s apartment turned into an invitation inside, giving me a brief glimpse of her life—one I never imagined I’d see.
These last three days had been heaven. Watching her compose her music, listening to her sing and talk to herself as she tapped her pencil against her notebook or fingernails against her piano keys…
It was amazing. My favorite, though, was how she’d smile at me if she caught my eye. It was enough to make me want to swoon.
This morning had started with me by her side as she warmed up her vocal cords and prepared for her performance. Now I stood next to the outdoor stage at Good Morning, Chicago, watching my idol sing for the small group lucky enough to score tickets for this last-minute show.
It took everything I had in me to remind myself I wasn’t here to sing and dance with the crowd, but instead to help keep the crowd from harming her in any way. Not that I would have stood by as a fan and let anything happen to her. No way.
I let my gaze sweep over those gathered here for the fiftieth time, and felt it dragged back to Sloane for the fifty-first. Chills that had nothing to do with the too-cool breeze rushing between the buildings raced over my skin.
The music built. Sloane braced herself, microphone held in front of her mouth.
She belted out, “I’m gonna be brave. I’m gonna be brave. ”
The sound that came from the crowd as they sang along seemed to shake the ground and rattle the windows in the surrounding buildings.
It certainly rivaled the noise from any concert I’d ever been to, even those with tens of thousands more fans in attendance.
My blood pumped harder, those chills raising goosebumps on my skin.
Only for my heart to stop the second Sloane’s pretty brown eyes connected with mine.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. My world shrank to that small distance between us.
It could have been a good twenty feet, but it felt like mere inches.
Like the curl of her lips was meant for me.
Like the wind was her fingertips, warming my flesh as it caressed every inch of my skin.
There was nothing but the two of us, locked forever in this moment.
But that moment was broken as Sloane raised her mic back to her lips and continued singing like that thing between us didn’t exist. I realized, as I tore my attention back to the crowd and the show’s security crew, that there’d never been anything there to begin with.
Because while I was swept up in a moment with Sloane, everyone else looked as normal and excited as before while she sang on, oblivious.
My cheeks felt uncomfortably hot, those chills forcefully pushed away as reality steamrolled right over me. Of course there wasn’t anything there between us. She was the amazing Sloane Rivera, and I was just… me.
The rest of the short performance sped by without incident as I kept my eyes on the crowd.
When she was finished performing, I rushed to the set of stairs at the edge of the stage, instinctively reaching a hand out to help Sloane down.
She was in heels that could have broken a strong man in under five minutes, and even though she performed in similar shoes all the time, I wasn’t going to risk her breaking her neck as she descended the three steps to the ground.
While the security crew kept the crowd behind the steel barriers, Sloane gave one last wave to her fans, then turned to find the stairs.
Her focus landed on my hand before her wide smile tempered, her eyes sparkling before she slid her palm across mine.
Once again, the world around me faded, and Sloane and I were the only things that existed.
A movie reel played in the back of my mind, of my hands finding her hips, of hers sliding up my chest until her fingers traced along my jawline before she pressed her lips to mine.
Instead, Sloane ducked her chin, eyes on the stairs as she lowered herself down them on shaky legs.
Reluctantly, I let her go once I was sure she was sturdy, then followed her into the building where the Good Morning, Chicago crew directed her back to the green room she’d used earlier so she could change.
As if she knew I’d insist, Sloane stepped to the side at the door and waited for me to sweep my gaze across the room. Once I was sure the small space was clear, I motioned her through the doorway.
“Give me five minutes?” she said, pausing so my hand brushed her lower back.
“Take your time, Diva. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
Her face pinched before she broke away and shut the door on me. I stood with my back to the flimsy wood, watching as the crew rushed through the hall, going about their business. As if they didn’t realize the most amazing woman in the world was undressing in the room behind me.
My body warmed at the thought, and I tried to push it away. The problem was, focusing on anything other than Sloane had been difficult in normal circumstances. Now that I’d met her, that I’d been a guest in her home and was near her more hours than not, not thinking about her was an impossibility.
A tap on the shoulder had me spinning on my heel, looking around the empty hall for a threat. Only, the threat was my racing heart as I found my client in an outfit that I wanted to rip off her with my teeth.
No, Kolton. Be good.
My mouth watered, and I lost my ability to speak.
While she’d been beautiful in the short, fringe-covered black dress she wore on stage, she now wore skin-tight black leather pants that hugged every last inch of her curves, paired with a deep pink sweater that hung off one shoulder.
She was more covered but no less beautiful, and my mind spiraled into the kind of inappropriate thoughts I shouldn’t have been having about my client.
“My god, Diva,” I managed, though my voice only rasped from my throat. “Look at you.”
“What’s wrong?” Sloane glanced down at herself, dragging her palms across her stomach before swiping at her pant legs as if she could wipe away stains that weren’t there.
“You are absolutely stunning.”
She blinked up at me as if she didn’t believe what I’d said. Or maybe, I realized, she couldn’t believe I’d said it. I was her bodyguard. Surely there was a line there that I’d grossly overstepped. I was supposed to be protecting her body, not ogling it.
Glancing up at the ceiling, I dragged a hand down my face, then wrapped my fingers around the back of my neck. “I am so sorry,” I murmured, looking back at her. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was highly inappropriate, and I won’t say it again.”
“You really think that?” The quiver in her voice brought out every protective instinct inside of me. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and sing her my praises, but that was just as inappropriate as what I’d already said.
Instead, I nodded but kept my mouth shut. Sloane blinked quickly and wrapped her arms around herself. When she looked up at me, her eyes were glossy and wet.
“No one’s ever said that to me before.” Her words were just a whisper, but the area had fallen quiet, and they might as well have been a blaring horn.
“How can that be true?” I asked, shaking my head. “You’re Sloane Rivera. You… You grew up as one of Sidney’s Darlings and had the world at your feet.”
“That’s very sweet of you to say, Kolton Johns. But sadly, it is the truth.”
I shook my head again, then pushed my hand through my hair.
Dragging that hand down my face, I forced myself to look away.
Forced myself to clamp my lips shut so I didn’t say something I’d regret.
I didn’t know what happened between her and Beckett, what their relationship was like or where they might end up in the future.
But I did know it wasn’t my place to open my big mouth and voice the thoughts I’d held inside since I first learned the two of them were together nearly a decade ago.
Call it jealousy, but that was only partially true. There was something there, something in my gut, that said the man was no good. Nothing anyone said about him would change my opinion of him.
I licked my lips, then stepped back. “Come on, Diva. Your fans are waiting.”
She dipped her head, then scooted past me, heading toward the studio where they’d be interviewing her on camera. She stopped before leaving the hallway and looked up at me.
“Wish me luck?”
The smile that tilted my lips was filled with warmth. “I’d tell you to go knock them dead, but I think you already did that.”
She beamed, full of light and, I hoped, a little bit of happiness. There hadn’t been much of it the few times I’d seen her, and I wished there was something I could do to give her more. “See you after.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Sloane was rushed off to the set. Hair and makeup people swarmed around her to make her camera ready as an assistant fitted her with a mic. There was chaos that quickly faded to complete silence as the cameraman zoomed in on the morning show hosts, Heath Jones and Sally Mayfield.
“Our special guest today is a five-time Grammy-nominated singer and the pop star everyone is watching. This Chicago native is back in the city, and we’re so excited to hear what’s coming next. Everyone, please welcome Sloane Rivera!”
“Thank you, Sally, it’s great to be here,” Sloane said as she tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Sloane,” Heath said, jumping into the conversation, “Los Angeles has been home for you since you were growing up. Why come back to Chicago? Why now?”