Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Jacob
SOMETHING CHANGES IN THE tenor of the screaming. I think I’m imagining it at first, but then the others meet my eyes, a couple of them cocking their heads.
“Thank God,” Shawn breathes.
My relief comes tinged with something extra. I can’t help imagining big, bulky, muscled, masculine Seth charging toward us like a conquering hero, using those broad shoulders of his to barrel through the squawking crowd of press.
I brush aside the image, or try to, at least. I’ve been out since high school. I don’t need to fawn over a guy who technically works for me. Seth is about the worst possible choice, the one guy I should stay away from, if he’s even gay. He looks like a G.I. Joe figure, so I’m not getting my hopes up. I could have just about anyone, partially thanks to the high profile of the band. It would be pure insanity for me to go after my bodyguard. What would my family think? They’ve supported me unquestioningly since the day I came out. I can hear Mom’s disappointment as I choose a guy who’s not only off-limits, but probably straight.
“Oh, baby, you deserve better,” she would say. “Why don’t you find yourself a nice boy?”
As though I’ve summoned him with my fantasizing, the door bursts open, and Seth stumbles into the hall. His eyes sweep over us. It’s hard to tell behind the glasses, but I swear his gaze lingers a beat longer on me before he grabs the guy nearest him, who happens to be Levi.
All thought of disappointing my family or Seth being off-limits flees my brain the second he appears. Instead, my attention fixates on the solidity of his chest stretching his black T-shirt, the squareness of his jaw beneath the beard, the thickness of his arms and thighs. There is just so much man to enjoy there, and if he ever gave me the chance, I’d appreciate each and every inch of it. Very, very thoroughly.
“Let’s go,” Seth says. “I’m loading you guys into my car. Everyone should fit.”
“What about our cars?” Levi says.
“Give me your keys. I’ll take care of it.”
We hand them over. Then Seth is back out the door, dragging a startled Levi with him. The last I see of them, Levi is stumbling, barely keeping up with the far larger man.
I gather myself, shaking off the heat flushing my body and brain. He’s just a guy doing his job. That’s all. I shouldn’t be looking forward to my turn to be grabbed and hauled through the throng. I shouldn’t be eager to have that big, strong hand wrap tightly around my bicep and carry me away.
I catch Keannen watching me, a smirk twisting his mouth. I scowl at him. I know that smirk, and it never means anything good. Keannen doesn’t back down from my glare, smiling more broadly when he realizes I’ve caught him.
“Ready to be whisked away by your knight in shining armor?” he says.
“Shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes.
Keannen shrugs. “You could do worse, you know.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“But you could be doing anyone .”
I huff a sigh. Normally, Keannen’s jabs roll off my back. It’s his default way of speaking, but I’m finding it a lot less charming and quirky when the accusations strike too close to home.
Thankfully, Seth returns before Keannen can add anything further. He hauls Dan out next. It’s like some sort of extraction mission in a video game. Each of us disappear one at a time, snatched away by the dashing hero and carted off to safety. Judging by the sounds beyond the door, the press isn’t backing off at all. In fact, the noise swells with anticipation. They’ve likely learned the cadence of this, picking up on the fact that they can get a few shots of each of us as we leave one at a time. It’s kind of perfect for them, unfortunately.
“The pictures will be all over the internet before we even get home,” Keannen says, echoing my thoughts.
It’s just me and him now, Shawn recently snatched away and dragged out the door.
“Whatever,” I grumble. “There’s always pictures.”
Even in this short amount of time, I’ve grown numb to seeing my face plastered on the internet. It’s an unstoppable force. The best I can do is mute my name and hope that filters most of it out of my personal feeds.
“There’ll be some pictures of you and your man,” Keannen says.
His leering look needles at me.
“Cut it out,” I say. “Hasn’t this day gone bad enough already?”
Keannen puts up his hands. “Fine, fine, whatever. I’m just joking. You’re our shining golden boy. I know you’d never do anything so dastardly and evil as hooking up with the bodyguard.”
I glare and don’t respond. Thankfully, Seth appears then to escort Keannen out. Keannen puts up his hands when Seth tries to grab him.
“I’ll follow,” he says.
Seth grunts, but doesn’t push back, letting Keannen have his way and leading him outside. Keannen winks as he goes.
I sigh into the quiet. I’m the last one, and the press knows it. It’s mostly me and Keannen they want right now, and if the screaming beyond the door is anything to go by, my turn wading through them is not going to be a fun experience.
I startle when Seth returns.
“You ready?” he says.
I nod, my throat suddenly clogged. Seth takes my arm, his hand almost entirely wrapping around my bicep. I take a deep breath as he tugs me after him.
Then the noise hits me.
It’s a shock of sound, like a thunderclap going off an inch from my face. The noise would bowl me over if it weren’t for Seth holding me upright. Questions rain down like hail pelting my head and shoulders and back. Cameras go off, several held high above the crowd as though the reporters are going to hurl the things at me on the off chance of getting a better picture.
I can’t possibly be worth all this. I’m just a singer in a band, a singer plenty of people have seen plenty of times. There’s no shortage of pictures and videos of me all over the internet. Why in the world do they need these pictures and videos outside a dingy practice space on a Tuesday? They crush in, trying to get closer, and Seth shoulders a couple away, careful to use just enough force to push them back without causing a lawsuit. He certainly knows his work well. I focus on his broad, strong back, shutting out the screaming reporters. For once, looking too closely at him is actually a positive.
Then something grabs at my sleeve, almost yanking me away from him. I gasp, and Seth whirls. His hand tightens on my arm. In one fell swoop, he pulls me free of the hand that grasped me, steps past me, and shoves the offending reporter back so hard the man sprawls on his butt on the pavement.
Seth glares at the man for a second, then turns his gaze to me. All I can do is gape. He’s like a knight wielding a shield, knocking aside the invading horde to protect a prince. His eyes are hard as a steel longsword behind his glasses, his mouth set in a firm line. He gives me a curt nod, then keeps pulling me along.
I don’t notice the paparazzi after that. I don’t hear their questions. If another is bold enough to grab at me, I don’t feel it. All I know is Seth’s hand on my arm, his other arm raised like he really is wielding a shield. His broad back is my bulwark. He stands like a tower and parts the crowd so we can reach his car.
I blink when he tosses me into the passenger seat. It takes a moment for my head to settle. I twist to find the rest of my band in the back seats. Keannen smirks; Shawn smiles sheepishly.
Seth hurries into the driver’s seat. The press crowd around the car, but he beeps and curses and makes his slow way through them until we’re finally free. I’m still dizzy from the experience as I watch the throng grow smaller in the rearview mirror, their disappointment plain as they throw up their hands in defeat.
“Our hero,” Keannen says once we’re safely on the road.
Seth grunts, refusing to rise to Keannen’s bait the way most people do. That produces a secret little smile that I hide by turning away and watching the road. If anyone can shut down Keannen’s usual schtick, it’s Seth.
“Thank you for coming to get us,” I say.
Some of the guys in the back (not Keannen) echo my sentiment. Seth makes a more affirmative-sounding grunt this time. Only I can see the nod he adds to it.
“Be more careful in the future,” he says.
“Yeah, Jacob, be more careful,” Keannen says.
I twist in my seat to gape at him. “Me? How is this my fault?”
“We all know you’re the one they want,” Keannen says.
“They want you just as bad,” I shoot back.
Keannen shrugs and flops back in his seat. “For now. I’ll be old news soon enough. You’ll still be our shiny, pretty frontman. You should really think about getting some permanent security.”
His eyes flicker meaningful toward Seth. I twist back around and cross my arms, refusing to acknowledge the comment. Seth came to save us today, and he worked with us during the tour, but he’s not really our bodyguard. Technically, legally speaking, we don’t have a security team. Seth just helps us out once in a while.
Which means he isn’t technically, legally off-limits, an unhelpful piece of me adds.
“I’ve been looking at a few guys,” Seth says. “I could help you put together a team.”
For some reason, my heart drops at that. If Seth did that, would someone else arrive to save us in a situation like this? Would it be a stranger dragging me through the press instead of him? The ache in my chest suggests I care about those answers far more than I should.
Seth drops us off one by one. Levi is closest to the practice space, then Dan, Shawn, and finally Keannen. Keannen smirks at me as he climbs out of the car. He reaches over the seat to squeeze my shoulder as he scoots out.
“Have fun,” he says, low enough, hopefully, that only I can hear him.
I shrug him off and dismiss his comment, but it echoes in my ears when he hops out of the car, leaving me alone with Seth. Seth heads off without a word, winding through downtown toward the fancy new apartment I bought after the tour. It’s a far cry from where I used to live north of the city, the type of place I couldn’t imagine affording a mere few months ago.
When we reach the apartment building, Seth pulls up beside the curb and puts the car in park. He gets out and, before I can follow, sweeps around the car and opens my door for me. He offers me his hand, helping me down like I’m a prince descending from a carriage.
“I’m sorry,” Seth says. “This won’t happen again. I’ll see to that personally.”
He’s deadly serious — and he’s still holding my hand. I don’t dare point that out, letting my skin linger against his for as long as possible. His strong, calloused fingers hold my hand delicately, all the strength that plowed through that mob of paparazzi carefully contained.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say. “This was us.”
Seth is shaking his head before I finish. “I’m head of security. I’m in charge of this. And Keannen is right. They’re going to be on you in particular a lot. You should have the proper protection.”
You’re the proper protection.
I nod instead of letting those words sneak out. Seth releases my hand, but I stand at the curb and watch him drive away until he takes a turn and disappears into the tangle of Seattle’s streets. His warmth tingles on my skin long after he goes.