CHAPTER NINE
DRAKE
The soldier’s name was Jimmy Redman.
I lied to Cha Cha. I do remember him, every aspect, from the kid’s puppy brown fucking eyes to the name his mumma gave him.
My legs pound the rocky ground surrounding the house just after daybreak as I sprint the track my body knows well.
Anything to remove the memory I thought I buried but managed to exhume last night because she asked.
Not that it's her fault. I decided that was the nighty night tale I’d tell her.
Shit, I should have kissed her instead. Then I fessed up to being her stalker—one of—even if it was for a good reason.
Ha. Breaking Cha Cha’s trust hurt more than I thought possible.
Two fucking days with her, and I’m already well embedded into her sasaeng fan club.
Sign me up for the next tour.
Maybe her management team can put me in the waiting room with her pastel colored crew and lend me a costume to blend in.
I stop just above the house, staring down at the building.
I bought the property when I left the military, needing somewhere to remove myself from the world.
Hide from memories that haunted me, when being around people wasn’t the right place.
Then, I slammed my feet into the track that I run now, with the house in plain view.
There’s a much longer one that I’ll take her on later, that winds deeper into the mountains.
The stunning views and quiet winds that speak of silent strength and sleeping gods beneath the soil will hopefully be enough to combat the nightmares Cha Cha suffers from.
They once were for me, and I hope this place will be the same for her.
I was selfish in bringing her out here. Hell, with her security budget I could have taken her anywhere in the world, hidden her on any continent. But Cha Cha is hellishly recognizable, and this is ground I’m intimately familiar with. Here, I’m king. Here, I know the land, and can protect her.
Here, she’s queen.
Shadows flicker across the windows inside the house. The movement means she’s up. Huh. I knew Cha Cha rose early on tour days, but I figured she kept those hours out of anxiety. Apparently, it’s a regular habit, or maybe I was right the first time and it’s a cycle she can’t break.
I jog down to the house, breaking off the track and enter through the back door, locking up after myself. Here, there’s no threat to her, but the need to keep her safe against the man I know will come for her is too strong. Even here, I’m all too aware of her needs to become blase.
Soft notes reach me as I unzip my jacket and hang the garment on a nail inside the door.
Cha Cha toys with a melody I don’t recognize.
I didn’t lie to her last night when I told her I’d listened to her entire unpublished catalogue.
She circles the living area, her head down, her face obscured by her hair as she writes notes on a notebook.
Hell, she’s wearing my shirt, a grey one from my military days.
The material hangs loose over her frame almost to her knees, like a dress.
When I glance at her legs, I get why. She was right; whoever packed for her while she was on stage picked…
for a tour. Her legs are encased in black leather pants.
. My mouth dries and I force my gaze higher.
The full picture of her, leather pants, wearing my shirt, long black hair draped along her back…
hell, she’s a sight. My cock kicks in my pants, the exhaustion of my run forgotten as my blood heats.
Cha Cha writes on, scribbling notes and singing softly to herself, oblivious of my study.
I smile. Her home was full of handwritten notations, pages and Post Its everywhere.
Most were in shapes of stylized flowers and animals, covered in lyrics she’d written in circles or ribbon shapes as though the music flowed from her in waves.
Grabbing a full water bottle and topping it up with a dose of electrolytes, I slug it back as I lean against the wall, watching her.
Fuck, having her in my home is intoxicating.
More than that. Seeing her create as she walks about, scribbling frantically, trying different wording… Christ, she’s beyond beautiful.
Nothing in my research trip promised me that the woman the world obsessed over—myself included, with my little crush developing daily in the two weeks I spent understanding who she was and the holes in her life—would slide into my world that differs so drastically from hers.
Cha Cha comes from a glitzy landscape where I’m far more rough and rustic.
My history is brutal and hers is all auditions and tours.
The one thing I’ve learned about her is that we both understand that work isn’t something we can shut off.
It’s what we do, what we live. That’s the single commonality between us.
Her head raises, drawn out of her reverie. “You are a stalker,” she reproves me, though there’s nothing fearful in her voice.
Tension flexes across my shoulders at being caught out. The slightest smile curves her lips, and I relax, leaning back.
“You like stealing my clothes, princess?”
The hint of a smile becomes a full blown bratting out smirk as she peers up at me through her lashes.
Fuck me, that look should be illegal.
“You don’t want to see the top that pairs with these pants.” She kicks out a leg to demonstrate the leather that encases her like a second skin.
“Mmm.” Given permission to look, I do, sliding my gaze over her body.
Cha Cha tips her head to one side, unresistant as she returns the favor.
It’s been a while since I’ve been aware of a woman checking me out.
Usually, I do my job, and move right along.
My scars—the ones both ironside and out—are baggage enough to weigh me down.
Low enough I wonder if I’ll ever emerge.
But Cha Cha digs her way under my skin, giving me reason to care. I close my eyes and inhale.
The difference of having her in my home is there, but it’s subtle. Something softer, sweeter. Like my house has been too harsh without her here. Missing her.
“I like the new song.” I keep my eyes closed, and don’t need to open them to know she’s creeping closer. Her soft footfalls are quiet, but she’s not silent.
“It’s not finished yet.”
“So finish it.”
“I thought we were going hiking.”
The warmth of her slams me, even though we’re not touching.
My palms ache to reach out and pull her into me, but I know that will frighten her.
“You need to complete it, right?” I let my eyes drift open lazily, staring down at her.
She nods, looking up at me uncertainly. “Then we stay. I can fill the time.”
She worries her lower lip. “I can just…write? I won’t bother you?”
Damn, she’s prettier up close than on stage than in her pictures.
“No, princess. My home is yours. Use it how you need. If you want a break, I'll be around.”
Her lips flicker. Once. “Stalking me.”
If that’s what you need to call it.
“That’s right.” I fold my arms and don’t move.
She leans forward. “You need a shower, Drake Bodyguard.”
I huff a laugh. “Is that a prerequisite for your songwriting abilities?”
“Yep.” She swings away, sashaying her hips in those torturous leather pants.
I swear my old shirt never looked so good.
Cha Cha’s music fills my home day after day. I feed her, and she sings. I swear the wind that slides between the mountains visits just to answer her.
Out here, where there’s no neighbors for miles, the only sounds are the creaks from the trees near the house, the occasional wild animal who don’t come near us, and her.
Having company is a different experience for me, too. I know from Cha Cha’s history that she’s rarely home. It’s why I chose to invade her home when I did, when she was on tour. The right thing to do? Hell, no. An example of where her security needs a level up, or five?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
I run through the plans of her house that I printed out earlier in the week as she watches me, picking at her ramen.
I’m yet to see her eat a full meal, but I’m working on it.
The more energy she has, the harder we can train together.
I refuse to let Cha Cha leave without knowing she can defend herself if I’m not around.
That thought gives me pause, and I raise my head to find her watching me.
“You’re supposed to be eating, princess,” I say softly, breaking the pervasive silence that falls between us.
Night obscures the mountains outside, the glass reflective. We never did get that hike in together. I pencil it in mentally for tomorrow. Getting outside is good for her, and she should know the terrain if we stay here much longer.
Cha Cha leans forward and slurps her noodles. Damn, that’s another action I can watch all day. Just being near her is addictive. She finishes up, and pushes her bowl aside. I expect sass, but that’s not what tumbles from her puffy lips.
“Have you received any more letters?”
I cock my head to one side. “What makes you think I’m checking?”
She handed her email accounts over to me a few days ago, unwilling to see the evidence land there herself.
Not that either of us expect the stalker to hack her; it’s Shayne we both expect to hear from.
There’s been radio silence from her management team since the night I took her away from the stadium where the man who hunts her broke into her dressing room and destroyed her things. Shattered her mirror.
Wrote the message on the glass before he splintered it apart.
Cha Cha fixes me with a challenge she knows I won't back down from. “You’re checking.”
I laugh. “Yeah. I am.” I pick up her bowl and wash it, avoiding her hands when she tries to help. “No, there’s nothing. Not a thing, Cha Cha. I’ll tell you if there is.” I put the bowl away and turn back to find her still studying me.
“Will you?”
I let the quiet between us settle until it becomes too much.
Bracing my elbows on the wooden bench top, I lean toward her.
Tonight, she’s paired yellow latex pants—another prime pick from the team management pack—with a black knit halter top.
There’s nothing beneath it, her body soft and free as she moves, swaying unconsciously toward me.
We’ve spent the last week orbiting around each other while she finishes her songs, producing one after the other. It appears that with the reduction of glitz, glam and distraction, Cha Cha is a powerhouse, discovering inspiration in everything.
I smirk, trailing my gaze over her pink stained cheeks to her lips that she licks. “I’m taking you on that hike tomorrow.”
“Hike?” Her gaze, unfocused, snaps back to meet mine. “What hi—oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” I straightened. “Your songs are done, right?”
She nods. “I finished the last one this afternoon. It’s not perfect, and I need to tweak it with equipment, but… the bones are there.”
“Good. I’m glad you aren’t sitting around, stressing yourself stupid out here, Cha Cha.” I soften my voice to take the edge off my words.
“Me too,” she whispers. Cha Cha slides off her stool, heading away from the kitchen. A few steps from the hallway entrance, she turns back to me. “Tuck me in after I clean up?”
My mouth dries, and I nod. “I’ll be around.” I let her get a few steps further away. “Princess.”
She half turns back, already lost in the shadow. “Drake?”
“I’ll tell you if anything comes through.”
She sways into the light, enough for me to see the smile that changes her face. “I trust you.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m left with a raging hard on and a fantasy I’ll play out with her against the wall of the spare bedroom she’s slept in for the past week.
Hell, I thought we’d never hit this point.
The flirting ceased once she started songwriting, and I let her be, knowing it’s what she needed.
Being around her is enough, but aching there constantly, unable to touch…
that’s a different form of torture. She stopped asking for goodnight kisses then.
I slept across the hall from her after the second night I spent on the spare bedroom floor, my hand tangled in hers.
Knowing she still wants me is more than I can ask.
Now I just have to accept that when we’re done, she’ll move onto the next bodyguard while I’ll still crave her. Hell, I’m as bad as any of her tame sasaeng, for fuck’s sake. Here she is in my house…fucking her is the worst idea possible. But I won’t say no, and I’ll make sure she remembers tonight.
Forever.