Milo
“Burgers or pizza?”
“Ugh, why do you always pick the best foods when we can’t eat them?” Linda comments with a groan. Her fingers wrap around my hair, working their magic to turn my blond strands into what she calls “soft tousle.”
I don’t think it looks much different from how I normally do my hair—which mainly consists of running my fingers through my hair in the morning to keep it tangle-free—but I also know nothing about hair, and Linda is a pro, so she’s in charge.
“Isn’t that what makes it fun? It gives us something to look forward to when our diets are over,” I laugh, making sure to keep still so the hair straightener doesn’t accidentally burn me.
Been there, done that, and I do not wish for a repeat.
“If I want to torture myself with things I can’t have, I’d rather we talk about the delectable new hunk hanging around you these days,” she says. Through the mirror, I follow her gaze to the man behind us.
Rowan is listening while Ray speaks a thousand words a minute. I’m tempted to go over and rescue the poor man. Ray’s not going to stop talking until someone interrupts him, and based on our interactions these last few days, Rowan’s too nice for that.
He may look intimidating and like he doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything, but he’s surprisingly easygoing. Or maybe he’s just nice enough to go with the flow?
He doesn’t look intimidating now, or at least not with his usual intensity. It’s probably the suit. Or the way he’s slicked back his red hair for the event tonight. Despite showing more of his face, the new style somehow softens him.
Or maybe you should just admit he’s handsome and stop kidding yourself?
“Handsome doesn’t even begin to do him justice,” Linda says, and jolts me out of my thoughts. For a second, I feared I was the one who’d spoken my thoughts out loud. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened, but Linda doesn’t need to know how hot I find my new bodyguard.
“He really is quite a sight, isn’t he?” she says without waiting for me to reply, and the look in her eyes tells me I’m not fooling anyone.
I roll my eyes because what else am I supposed to do?
“We both know he can’t handle me. No one can,” I say with a wink. She laughs, just as I expected.
“You are America’s darling for a reason. Everyone wants you, but nobody can have you.”
Her tone is lighthearted and teasing, but that doesn’t stop the ache that wells in my chest. I ignore it and smile.
That’s one of the first things they teach you in media training. No matter what questions they throw at you, regardless of how uncomfortable someone makes you feel—because someone will eventually make you uncomfortable—you use your smile to shield yourself.
It’s one of the most powerful weapons in our arsenal, and right now, it feels like it’s me and my smile against the world.
“So you finally admit you want me too?” I tease right back.
Linda’s laugh is loud and draws Rowan’s and Ray’s attention.
Ray is quick to return to whatever he’s saying, but Rowan’s gaze catches mine through the mirror.
He looks at me like he’s assessing the situation.
It’s something he probably picked up from his time working in security, since it’s something he does often.
I wonder what he sees that makes him raise a brow, as if silently asking if I’m okay.
I nod, and he returns to his conversation with Ray. I almost wish I hadn’t nodded, just so I could have his eyes on me for a little while longer.
The instant I realize what I was thinking, I shake my head to dispel those thoughts. Linda admonishes me for the sudden movement and tells me I’m lucky she didn’t burn me with the hair straightener, but I’m not really listening.
I’m still in my head, trying not to feel like I’m topsy-turvy because of a man I am most definitely not allowed to crush on.
Okay, maybe not a crush, but it’s impossible not to admit that the man is stunning.
Intimidating, yes, but even his resting bitch face can’t hide his features.
His thick brows in a perpetual frown, intense eyes—which I’m still unsure whether they’re green or blue, either way, they’re magnetizing—a surprisingly straight nose, and ginger scruff that frames perfectly kissable lips.
Not that I’ll be kissing them.
Ever.
I don’t even want to.
I mean, I totally don’t wonder if his mustache and beard will tickle my skin the moment our lips meet, or if kissing him will even be comfortable, considering the man is a giant. I might be tall at six feet, but I’ve never had a partner tower over me before.
“You look like a million bucks, babe. Go get dressed so I can do the finishing touches.”
Linda’s voice startles me again, but this time I have an excuse to jolt out of my seat. I run upstairs to my room and take a few minutes to calm my racing heart and overactive mind.
As I said, I’ve never once thought about kissing my new bodyguard…
Nope.
I squat with my back against the door and my head hanging between my legs. I’m careful not to touch my face and ruin my makeup, or else Linda will have my neck.
Maybe picking a hot, amiable bodyguard wasn’t my brightest idea. Especially since I’m bound to spend a lot of time with him, sometimes alone.
“Milo! We gotta go!”
Ray’s shout almost shakes the walls, but it does its job of springing me into action. I find the suit Ralph Lauren sent over earlier this morning hanging in my closet and carefully get into it.
It’s a double-breasted navy suit jacket paired with a light blue undershirt, a chocolate-brown pencil-striped tie, and charcoal dress pants.
With the adjustments they made to my measurements, the suit molds to my movements without a single crease in sight.
It almost feels like the suit is wearing me instead of the other way around. I’m just the mannequin meant to show off the design.
That’s kind of how my entire life feels right now. I’m the poster boy for one thing or another. America’s darling. The man everyone wants but can’t have. The one who carries on the idol mantle for MYTHS.
The fans look at me, but they’re not really seeing me. They’re seeing the vessel they’re using to place their desires onto.
It’s not the real me. It’s all an illusion. One that I’ve become all too used to hiding behind.
Sometimes it’s hard not to get lost behind the persona I show the world.
The one where not a single imperfection can be seen, as proven by Linda fixing my outfit until it looks like the suit is a second layer of skin.
Each loose strand of thread is cut, and all pieces of lint are meticulously picked away.
It’s perfect. Just like how I have to be. And perfect means I can’t let something like silly emotions break my mask.
“Are you okay?” Rowan asks as we walk to the car.
Ray is coordinating with Linda regarding next week’s TV appearance while escorting her to her car, leaving me and Rowan walking alone to his Mercedes.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I answer. I don’t look at him, not because of the lie—lying I’m used to. That’s what this persona is, isn’t it?—but I can’t manage a straight face toward someone who’s showing concern for me.
“You don’t seem yourself.”
That catches my attention. My resolve to not look at him is quickly broken as I’m now staring at him as if trying to figure out what I’m having for dinner.
“I’m acting how I always do,” I tell him evenly.
“Maybe when you’re trying to play up your role as a celebrity,” he mumbles.
That tickles a laugh out of me. “I am a celebrity. It’s why Ralph Lauren is having me attend Fashion Week, remember?” I say teasingly.
He pops out a crooked smile that does something to my insides. “You are, but you’re also more than that. You’re lacking the vibrancy you had when you forced me to eat with you.”
“I did not force you! Like you could have resisted the mouthwatering smells. No one resists Thai,” I say with mock seriousness.
“I could have.”
“Oh, sure, whatever. Mr. Big Bodyguard, who has the mental fortitude more impervious than Superman’s Fortress of Solitude.” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at him in challenge.
He just smiles back. That damn crooked smile might be the deadliest thing on earth, but then he says, “There you are.”
Three simple words that make my stomach practically flutter out of my body. It’s a statement that says he sees me in a way others don’t, and it unsettles me.
I’m not used to anyone knowing me this well when we’ve only just met. Ray and Ethel know me, but they’ve known me for years, and even then, I’m never this forthcoming with my insecurities around them.
“And you’re wrong, you know?” Rowan adds.
“Wrong about what?” I ask, thankful for the distraction.
“About Superman’s so-called impenetrable fortress. For it being called the Fortress of Solitude, everyone seems to know its location and how to access the entrance.”
I chuckle. “Then your mental fortitude must be just as breakable. Maybe the right woman will have you knocking down all your walls and dragging you by the toes,” I say lightly, though the words feel anything but.
It’s a test, mostly for myself. The answer key I need to finally whip myself back into shape. Maybe hearing that he’s straight and is only into women will put all these unsettling emotions in the back of my mind, where it belongs.
Rowan chuckles. It’s low and reverberates inside the underground parking garage. It rings in my ears, lingering like a gentle caress that’s never ending.
I resist the urge to scratch my ear just to prove to myself that I’m not as affected as I think. My self-control is stronger than whatever is brewing in the air between us, and all I’m waiting for is for Rowan to put the final nail in the coffin of uncertainty I’m feeling.
“I guess I do have a soft spot for my loved ones,” he admits quietly.
I nod, because what else can I do? Definitely not wonder if he has a soft spot for me, which then leads me to wonder what it’ll be like to be one of Rowan Rangecroft’s loved ones.
He seems cold and unfeeling, but I can see him as the type who loves fiercely. He’s a giant, but that just makes the perfect setting for being a pushover against those he loves.
And I know for a fact that he’s considerate. He’s observant to a fault and not afraid to point out the things he sees, but that just makes him more endearing.
It’s refreshing after spending almost a decade in a world of perfectly curated conversations and designed cheer.
But he’s not yours. He can never be yours.
The rational voice in my head is quieter than usual, but it’s not completely out of commission.
It gives me enough sense to check if I’m still smiling naturally, which I never should have doubted myself in the first place.
Even before joining MYTHS, I’d already perfected the customer-service smile after years of waiting tables.
My perfect smile cracks with the revelation that Rowan hits me with.
“And I’m good with men or women. I don’t really have a preference,” he says almost bashfully. I’m trying to keep my smile from completely faltering, which means I’m currently tongue-tied.
Seeing my lack of reply, Rowan’s expression darkens just a bit. “Is that going to be a problem?” he asks gravely.
“What? No! Why would it be a problem? That’d be kinda hypocritical considering I’m gay.”
The statement hangs in the air between us like dirty laundry, and I know I just blurted out something I shouldn’t have.
My sexuality is supposed to be top secret, because god knows what the fans will think if their dream man is only attracted to other men when half my fandom are lust-driven women wanting to get in my pants.
It helps that I’m never seen out in public with anyone who could pose as a romantic interest. That part isn’t hard since I don’t date.
Ever.
It keeps up an air of mystery around me, or whatever. I wasn’t really paying attention during the last meeting with my publicist.
It isn’t my fault that I just so happened to have a stroke of inspiration right when the meeting had started. Lyrics had been flying around in my head, which is the reason for my newest single topping the charts for the last couple of weeks.
In retrospect, I really should have paid more attention to the meeting instead. Maybe then I wouldn’t have blurted out the one thing my publicist told me I needed to keep a lid on.
Where is Ray when I need him? He still hasn’t returned from sending off Linda, probably too busy chatting her ear off about something that has nothing to do with work.
Most importantly, he isn’t here to do his job of keeping my mouth in check!
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Rowan is the first to break the silence.
He must see something on my face, and the hard edges of his features are noticeably softer.
The way he’s currently looking at me doesn’t help the whirlwind of emotions currently wrecking my insides, nor does the fact that he’s able to read me so well when I’m trying to keep my emotions on lockdown.
“Don’t forget, I signed an NDA. If I break my word, you can sue me for all I’m worth.”
I can tell he’s entirely serious by the way he speaks. I know it’s his way of comforting me, and it does exactly what’s needed to ease the tension and wrangle a snort out of me.
“Be careful what you say, because you might regret it if I get my little claws into you,” I say in a teasing tone.
I like how Rowan makes things easy.
“Pretty sure your little claws already grabbed a hold of me,” he replies.
I can’t tell whether he’s joking as well or being entirely serious.
Worst of all, I don’t know which one I’d prefer.