Chapter 22
DAWSON
After two more sets, the guys took their final bow and headed off stage to rehydrate, get touched up, and get dressed for their interviews.
Harlow, of course, was on Iain right away. And I heard the whole conversation, but the longer Harlow talked, the paler Iain got, and the more my temper sparked.
I pulled Regan aside. “Harlow is going ahead with this plan to make Iain comment about the stalker. Did he clear that with you?”
Regan nodded. “It comes from Greg. Unfortunately, it’s out of my hands. But trust me, I don’t like this idea any more than you do. This is going to send the media, and likely the stalker, into a frenzy.”
“Any word on the source of the flowers?” I asked.
“Tommy recalled seeing a van with a delivery logo in the alleyway around noon. We traced it to an online floral service, so the order could have come from anywhere in the world. But they can’t tell me who placed it.”
“But maybe we can find someone who can, you know, dig around and find out?”
“I know of a couple of people who could do some snooping.”
“And they would be?”
“The less you know, the better.” Regan smiled. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”
My face flushed. “Ah, the guys have been invited to Xtra. It’s a gay club not far from the hotel. Quinn checked it out earlier. But we’ll see how the interviews go. Iain may prefer to head back to the hotel afterward.”
I was really hoping that was the plan. I just wanted to be alone with him again, to finish what that kiss started. But Iain loved being social, so maybe my dick would have to wait. I realized that where Iain was concerned, I was okay with it. He was worth waiting for.
“You guys haven’t been as volatile as you usually are,” Regan commented.
I shifted from one foot to the other, then realized I was fidgeting.
“He still doesn’t like being under constant guard, but Iain also knows I only have his best interests at heart.”
Regan nodded and stared at me. “You do what you have to keep him secure.”
I nodded. “I’ll tie him to my bed if I have to.”
Regan raised one eyebrow, and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.
“You know what I mean,” I added.
“Is there anything you need to tell me?”
“No, boss.”
She sighed and shook her head. “It happens a lot, you know.”
“What?”
“Bodyguards falling for their clients. The whole protector thing creates a certain bond. But it rarely works out. And we both know why.”
Iain was a world-famous rockstar, and I was, well, me—a single, ordinary, thirty-one-year-old dad with bills and a sad track record when it came to relationships.
Regan’s comment put a damper on my earlier confidence. All I could think about was making Iain mine, but what would happen tomorrow morning? Would he brush me off the way he did every other lover?
I knew that for me, my heart was already involved, and one night would never be enough, but Iain… Iain was Iain. He didn’t trust deeper emotions, and that right there should’ve been enough to send me running.
Then I looked over at Iain sitting there, and I noticed his hands were shaking. Harlow just kept on talking, either oblivious or callous to Iain’s mood. Either way, it pissed me off.
I nodded at Regan. “Excuse me.”
I walked over to stand beside Iain, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” Iain replied at the same time Harlow said “yes.”
“What we’re discussing is none of your business,” Harlow snapped at me.
“I beg to differ since this stalker situation and anything that concerns Iain’s safety is my business,” I replied as I got up in Harlow’s face. “Now, either you give him some time to relax before you send him out to those vultures you call reporters, or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Don’t threaten me. One phone call to Greg, and you’re done.”
“That’s it!” Iain yelled and stood up. “Get out, Harlow. I mean it, or I will walk out of this venue and fuck ALL the interviews!”
Regan stepped up to us. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Get your guard dog in line,” Harlow sneered and pointed at me. “He’s butting in where he doesn’t belong.”
“And you’re insulting a member of Bandit’s team by referring to him that way, showing disrespect for his position and yours.” Regan motioned for Quinn. “Have a safe trip back to the hotel.”
Regan turned to walk away, and Harlow muttered, “Uptight bitch.”
She turned slowly on her heel and pinned him with a deadly glare. “I’m an expert at hand-to-hand combat, so be very careful with what you say about me.”
Then she pivoted again and walked away.
Quinn looked at Harlow. “Let’s go.”
“Fuck off,” Harlow bit out and stomped off, Quinn and Valen on his heels.
The rest of the guys crowded around us, including Van.
“I can’t believe he spoke that way to Regan and Dawson. What a dickhead,” Iain snapped. “Someone needs to tell Greg about this.”
“Don’t worry,” Brodie replied. “It’ll happen.”
“Van, do you think you could look over this statement Harlow gave to Iain?” I asked. “I know it’s not your job anymore, but given the circumstances—”
“Of course, happy to,” he replied, and Iain handed over the notes. “Give me a few minutes to read this over.”
A short while later, the guys were ready for their interviews.
The reporters had already gone through a pre-screening check, but I verified their identities again and then passed them off to Valen to keep an eye on. I headed back into the dressing room with Lennie to watch over the guys while Van ushered the reporters into the room, one at a time.
There were the usual questions about the concert, what they were doing in the city in their free time, and who they were dating.
I still didn’t know how they kept smiling after answering the same damn questions over and over for two hours, not to mention the cheesy jokes and several blatant come-ons.
Van had to intervene a few times to cut off questions or to redirect.
I watched Iain’s body tense as time wore on.
The last interviewer shuffled in, a journalist from Entertainment eNews. Once he was settled in, he wasted no time getting to the story.
“Holloway, you just released a statement about a stalker harassing you, and the case is being investigated as we speak. What can you tell us about this situation and how are you coping?”
Iain leaned forward. “I’ve received some disturbing messages, but that’s all I can say. My security team is investigating.”
“And how will this affect your current tour?”
“I have full confidence that our current shows will continue without incident.”
“Have the police gotten involved?”
“No comment.”
“Could it be a former boyfriend?”
“I haven’t had any, so the answer to that is no.”
“But what about—”
Van stepped in. “No. That’s it. Thank you for your time.”
The reporter sighed and signaled for his cameraman to stop taping. “Really, Van? That’s all you’re gonna give me? Come on.”
“You’re lucky we said anything,” Van replied.
“Why are you here directing this show anyway? Didn’t you quit your role as Wayward Lane’s manager months ago?”
“Off the record, the band’s rep is currently detained. I simply filled in temporarily.”
The reporter rolled his eyes. “Well, thanks for the bare minimum.”
“You and every other reporter who walks in here.”
The journalist nodded and packed up their equipment.
“Thank fuck, that’s over,” Iain sighed when the reporter was finally gone.
“Everyone did great,” Van assured them. “Especially you, Holls. I’m sorry you had to talk about it at all, but—”
“I know and thanks for your help, Van. I hope Greg doesn’t come down on you too hard.”
“If he so much as tries to breathe on my husband, I’m not talking to another journalist for the remainder of our contract,” Brodie stated.
And I believed him.
“Time to hit the road,” Ronin announced and clapped his hands together. “Forget the interviews, forget this stupid ass stalker, and forget Harlow, our stupid ass manager. Let’s go party and fuck!”
“Hell, yes!” Faise agreed and gave Iain a side hug.
“Me and Van are gonna head back to the hotel. My throat is kinda sore, so—”
“Stop giving your husband so many blow jobs,” Ronin quipped.
Brodie gave his friend two choice fingers in response.
“Iain?” Faise asked.
“I’m heading back to the hotel too.”
“What?” Ronin exclaimed. “Come on, Holls, you love going out.”
“Tomorrow night, okay? I’m kinda drained after those interviews.”
Iain looked exhausted, something that was rarely said. The man was usually a ball of energy.
“Lennie, send Geoff, Petyr, Quinn, and Valen to accompany Ronin and Faise,” I ordered. “You, me, and Will can head back with Iain, Brodie, and Van.”
“You got it.”
We gathered up the guys’ personal stuff from Bibi and split into two groups.
Iain was uncharacteristically quiet on the way back to the hotel.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No. I looked at my socials, and fans are freaking out about this stalker situation.”
“I told you; don’t—”
“And I need to know what people are saying,” Iain snapped. “I’m not going to bury my head in the sand! That’s not my way.”
“I’m not telling you to do that, just until the news settles.”
Iain scoffed. “It never settles, Daws. There’s always something else.”
As soon as we entered his room and I’d checked everything over, he headed for his bathroom without saying another word.
I guess that was my cue to leave him be.
Opening the connecting door, I sauntered into my room and placed my phone on the charger.
I needed a long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Not what I wanted, but what I needed. And Iain, too, even though I’d rather have him sleep in here with me.
I headed to the bathroom and started the shower, stripping off my clothes.
And fuck, just thinking about Iain close to me got my dick so hard so fast, I was lightheaded. I stepped into the shower and braced myself with one hand on the wet tiles and the other wrapped around my dick.
I’d gotten off several strokes when I heard a door slam. It sounded like it was coming from my room.
Talk about timing.