Chapter 25 Lofton
LOFTON
“Henry!” I called as I caught sight of him at the end of the hall.
That man had changed not one bit. Same messy blond hair that looked like he’d styled it by rolling out of bed and running his hands through the top without ever glancing in a mirror. Same confident, loose-limbed stride as if he’d never once felt unwelcome in a room.
The moment he saw me, his entire face smiled.
“Ah ha! So you’re the reason this place is crawling with security?”
I crinkled my nose. “Guilty.”
He sauntered toward me. “They insisted on a pat-down. I’m pretty sure the guard grabbed my ass, claiming it was a security measure. Which, honestly, is fair, but still. It’s so good to see you.”
Nope. Henry hadn’t changed at all.
“You too.” I laughed.
When he reached me, he caught my hand and twirled me in a circle. “Still absolutely gorgeous, I see.”
I poked his chest. “You’re not looking too bad yourself. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. How long’s it been?”
He squinted, tipping his head from side to side as he calculated. “Has to be seven, eight years at least. Wasn’t it at the Vanity Fair party? The one at the Sunset Tower where someone—I will not say who—drank an entire bottle of Patrón and tried to feel up the DJ.”
“That someone was you, Henry.”
“I said I will not say who.” He smirked, and even without the velvet voice, it was no surprise the man had sold millions of albums.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Ugh.” He scratched the back of his head, looking genuinely troubled. “Trying to catch some inspiration. I’m writing the theme song for this one, but what even is a futuristic dystopian thriller? That sounds like three genres fighting for their lives.”
I flashed him an eek face. “That’s… not entirely inaccurate.”
He nodded. “So, techno apocalypse with sad violins and a robot screaming in autotune. Got it.”
I let out a loud laugh. I’d always liked Henry. He was the rare kind of famous that could pull off the whole pretentious egomaniac thing with a charm and authenticity you couldn’t help but find endearing.
“I can hear it now—” I didn’t finish the sentence.
Because mid-word, Henry’s gaze traveled past my shoulder, his smile stretched, then crashed as his eyes flashed with surprise.
He scrambled away from me, hands flying up in front of him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He angled his body sideways like he was physically trying to make himself a smaller target.
“Okay. Nobody do anything sudden. I’m kicking off a new tour in a few weeks and my face is load-bearing.
” He dramatically waved a hand in front of his face.
“Everything you see here is structural. Irreplaceable. Insured for an amount I’m not legally allowed to disclose. ”
His hulking bodyguard materialized at his side so smoothly it was almost as if it had been choreographed. He planted himself beside Henry in what could not be mistaken for anything other than a silent gesture of intimidation, and locked his malevolent stare over my shoulder.
Following his gaze, I spun around.
There was no sign of anyone other than Devon behind me. His jaw was tight, shoulders rigid. His eyes shifted between Henry and his bodyguard with an expression I had never seen before.
“Do you two know each other?” I asked.
Henry lowered his hands incrementally, apparently satisfied that no immediate violence was forthcoming. “Know each other?” He tested the phrase. “Let’s just say my face knows Devon’s fist.”
My head snapped to Devon. “You punched him?”
Devon narrowed his eyes. “I was aiming for Sam. Henry threw his face into my fist.”
“I threw my… What?” Henry pressed his fingers to his jaw at the memory, then looked at the beast of a man at his side. “Carter, did you hear that shit? He seriously just said I threw my face into his fist.”
Carter’s glare never moved from Devon. “Not what happened.”
Thoroughly confused, I peered up at Devon. He was strong and fiercely protective. It wasn’t hard to imagine him coming to blows with another man. Though that man being Henry Alexander had me more than a little perplexed. “Wait…what happened? Who’s Sam?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Devon clipped. “It was a complicated night. Let’s leave it at that. We need to get going.”
He was indeed correct. We were late, and I had been excited all day to get back to the beach house and bask in all of Devon’s glorious colors as I got to know his coworkers, who he referred to as family.
However, a bigger part of me really wanted to know what the hell was going on between him and Henry that had the unshakable Devon Grant completely off kilter.
“Who is Sam,” I repeated.
Henry flashed me a tight, knowing smile. “Sam is Levee’s husband.”
Levee. Okay. I knew her name. The whole world knew that name.
Levee Williams was one of the biggest singer-songwriters alive.
She and Henry had originally started off as a duo before branching out into solo careers.
She’d been wildly successful before taking a step back to work on her mental health.
She and her husband, Sam Rivers, had become the face of suicide prevention.
Their relationship had been one of those stories the internet couldn’t get enough of.
Though none of that explained how the hell Devon had ended up trying to punch her husband.
I opened my mouth to ask approximately a dozen questions and then stopped, because a memory struck me. A single moment, pressing through the layers of my mind like a photograph developing in slow motion.
A party.
Years ago.
One of those sprawling charity events where worlds collided for a greater cause.
The brightest stars in film, music, and television in one room.
I’d been there with Sebastian, shortly after we’d started dating.
I was still navigating the necessary balance of being somebody’s famous girlfriend on top of being famous myself.
I’d been standing at the bar a few glasses of wine deep, just enough to numb the jealousy as Sebastian flirted a woman across the room, when I’d spotted him.
Standing in the shadows, but too gorgeous to go unnoticed.
Dark hair. Thick muscles visible even under his tux.
I’d had the fleeting thought that whoever he was, he was literally the most striking person in the entire space.
And as I’d tracked his heated gaze across the room to Levee Williams, I’d assumed they were together.
I’d even smiled, happy two beautiful people had found each other, before glancing back at Sebastian just in time to see him whisper something in the woman’s ear.
I’d never really thought about that man again after that night. I definitely hadn’t connected him to Devon.
It had driven me crazy when he’d first started working for me; my brain frantically trying to place him somewhere in my past but coming up short.
It had taken the addition of Levee to the equation to finally solve the problem.
But as the pieces started clicking into place, a far darker problem arose.
“You used to date Levee,” I whispered. “That’s why I recognized you when we met.”
Henry let out a laugh so loud it startled me. “In his dreams.”
Devon blew out a hard exhale and then corrected, “I used to work for Levee.”
Okay that could explain why he’d been at that party. But it didn’t explain the way he’d looked at her. I’d seen him that night. That was not a man on the job. Devon’s gaze had been so dark and hooded, like he couldn’t wait to get her home and rip her clothes off.
And I knew, because that was exactly the way he looked at me.
I shook my head trying to stop the pieces before they could form the whole devastating picture. “You didn’t just work for her, did you?”
“Lofton.” It wasn’t a warning as much as a plea. “Not here. Not now.”
Henry took a step forward, Carter moving with him. “I don’t know. Now seems like a pretty good time to me.”
“Henry,” Devon snapped.
“Look, if you aren’t going to tell her, I absolutely am.
Consider it a public service.” He turned to me with the focus of someone about to deliver a TED talk.
“He was her bodyguard. He fell catastrophically, head-over-ass in love with her. And then, and this is the part I truly cannot move past, showed up at her wedding and punched me in the face.”
Devon’s voice cracked like a whip. “It wasn’t her wedding.”
“No. It was a white party, but you thought—”
“It doesn’t fucking matter what I thought. None of this fucking matters at all. Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm, gentle enough not to leave a mark, desperate enough to shatter my heart.
Emotion lodged in my throat. Not tears. Not even anger. Just a whole world of hurt.
As I stared up at Devon, my mind swirling with every conversation he’d quietly redirected. Every question that had skated the top of the wall I couldn’t see through. Every time he’d tensed at something I’d said and then smoothed it over so fast I’d second-guessed whether I’d imagined it.
I thought I was slowly getting all of him. And the pieces he kept tucked away were just the natural reserve of a private man taking his time.
He’d never lied to my face.
He’d never denied the truth or twisted it into a more palatable story.
He’d just never mentioned her at all.
She was a celebrity.
He was her bodyguard.
He’d fallen for her.
And suddenly all the warmth and love I thought we’d been growing over the last two months turned out to be just a bad case of déjà vu.
Bile crawled up the back of my throat, tears stinging my eyes.
But I refused to cry.
Not there.
Not over a man.
Not ever fucking again.
I took a deep breath, plastered on my best Lofton Beck smile, and gave Devon my back.
“As enlightening as this has all been, I’m exhausted and have to be back early tomorrow to finish up.
” I walked over and gave Henry a friendly hug.
“It was good seeing you. Let’s try not to wait another seven years next time. ”
He held on for a beat. Then, very quietly, right next to my ear, he murmured.
“You gotta keep an eye on that one. I heard about the break-in at your place and I’m sure you’ve been through a lot.
So, the good news is, professionally, the man is untouchable.
Even Levee would tell you that. As a man though, he’s a fucking mess.
Don’t even try to be his friend. He pulled some seriously shady shit before Levee fired him. ”
A sad laugh escaped my throat. “Thanks for the heads up.” That I really could have used two fucking months ago.
I gave him one last squeeze and then stepped away.
He held my gaze for a moment, that easy grin gone, something careful in its place. He tipped his head to the man at his side. “Carter, make sure she gets to her car safe.”
“I got her,” Devon rumbled behind me, his hand finding the small of my back.
And for the very first time, my body had absolutely no reaction.
Well, that’s not totally true.
The already cracked and broken pieces of my heart fractured beyond repair.
Henry tilted his head, the challenge unmistakable. “Like I said, Carter, make sure she gets to the car safe.”
Devon’s fingers flexed at my back. “And I said, I got her.”
“Don’t argue,” I hissed. “I don’t need this to get worse.”
He went solid beside me.
I hadn’t meant it as a weapon, but with betrayal raging inside me, I sure as hell hoped it landed like one.