5. Gia
Gia
My heart cracks open at the sheer possessiveness in Hayden’s voice. His eyes burn with an intensity I haven’t yet seen in him, and it makes me want to push every single button he’s got to keep him close. To keep him here.
“The sicko who did this is rotting in jail. I was underage at the time, and it was an attack my family leveraged a lot of money to keep quiet.” I thread my fingers through his and drag his hand up between my breasts.
“I’m showing you because you should know.
I know what it’s like to be in danger. But I’m okay.
I survived being abandoned by my birth parents.
I survived being attacked as a teen. And I’ve survived the eat-them-up-and-spit-them-out nature of fame.
I know you’re here to protect me, but I’m also capable of protecting myself. So long as I know a threat exists.”
His eyes drift shut, and he swallows hard. His grip on my hand is tight, so I kiss each of his knuckles, offering up the same silent reassurance he’d offered me.
“It’s my job to keep you safe. I don’t want you to worry.”
“I’m telling you, I can handle it.”
Then he nods, relenting as he opens his eyes and meets my gaze.
“The letters. The gifts. There’s something sinister about them. Azaleas might be your favorite flower, but they’re also poisonous. Historically, they’re linked to sending a death threat if they’re in a black vase. The ones you got today were wrapped in black ribbon and laid in a black silk box.”
“It’s not a vase,” I say.
“No, but it’s not much different, is it?”
I lift my face to his and slide the tip of my nose along the column of his throat. I inhale his scent, a heady mix of ocean salt, sweat, and sun. Then, he sighs, drawing me closer and lining up our bodies so the length of hardness pressed against my belly is undeniable.
“And they were dead. So you think someone sent me a death threat.” I smooth my hands over his shirt and feel the steady drumming of his heart. “How serious a threat are we talking?”
“Considering there’s no explicit, outright threat, I’m not ready to recommend that you don’t go on tonight, but… I’m going to amp up security everywhere. Can’t be too careful, now can I?” Hayden watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, his hands roaming restlessly over my bare back.
“Pretty sure that’s what you’ve been for the last three weeks. Careful. Coy. Hard to get.”
“Have I? I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You can make it up to me,” I say, slipping my arms around his neck and rising onto the tips of my toes.
His mouth quirks up in a lopsided, teasing grin. “Yeah? By doing what?”
“Kiss me, Hayden. Now.”
Then I fit my mouth to his, and fireworks erupt inside me when he kisses me back.
Heat blooms between my thighs as his hungry mouth devours mine.
The kiss is raw hunger, pure fire. Lighting up all my nerve endings and incinerating all sense as he hauls me up onto the dressing room counter and fits himself against my core.
I moan as he tears away to run a hot line of kisses along the column of my throat. I grind myself against him and feel a victorious thrill run through me when he sinks his teeth into the curve of my shoulder, sending a flood of desire pulsing between my legs.
“Goddamn it, Gia, all I want to do is touch you. Taste you. I’m so fucking tired of trying to keep away from you.”
“Yeah, I don’t like that game. I much prefer another game called come and get it.” I flash him a wicked smile and let my hand trail down his chest, his abdomen, and nearly get to the place I want to be when someone knocks on my door and throws it open with a loud bang.
Hayden spins, instinctively pushing me behind him and blocking my body from view.
But it’s just Jaime, my longtime stylist. He takes one look at Hayden and me, then tsks under his breath.
“I know you’re not making a mess of my girl Gia when she’s about to take the stage soon. Whatever music y’all are trying to make is going to have to wait. Go on, then, hot bodyguard. Get out of here.”
Hayden picks up my clothes off the floor and tosses it to me while he swipes at his mouth, smearing my lipstick across his cheek.
“Oh, shit. Yup. I’ll, uh, I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
Jaime gives him a sideways glance as Hayden crosses the room and shakes his head. Then he calls out, “Honey, ain’t no guilt or shame here. So if you need five minutes to handle your business in the bathroom, I won’t tell.”
I clamp my lips between my teeth, trying to keep a straight face as Hayden’s ears go pink and he ducks out.
Then Jaime turns to me with wide eyes and lifts his hand for a high five.
“Get it, girl.”
And all I can do is slap my palm against his, laughing all the while.
I’m forty-five minutes into my set, four costume changes in, and sweating profusely under the intensity of Sunbreak Harbor’s relentless humidity and the bright stage lights trained on me.
Time is zipping by, and every cell in my body has felt electrified ever since I shared that boundary-crossing kiss with my hot bodyguard.
While he waits in the wings, peering out over me, I’m taking center stage and putting on the show of my life.
“How are we all doing tonight, Sunbreak Harbor?” I shout into the mic, pushing my hair back from my forehead and waiting for the whoops, screams, and cheers to die back down. “Thank you all for being here tonight under these beautiful summer stars.”
I pause, tilting my face up to the sky, and draw a deep breath of ocean-tinged air. “I have a special surprise for you. Please welcome to the stage my dear friend and fellow artist, Silver Langford!”
Silver strides onto the stage, and I gesture to her while the crowd welcomes her with wild cheers.
It’s a big moment for her as an up-and-coming artist, but I have always been willing to help new talent find their feet and make a bigger name for themselves.
Even when my top backup singer, Charisse Soriano, decided to become a solo artist, I made whatever introductions I could to pave the way for her.
It’s the least I can do to pay it forward considering the running start I got in my career.
“We’re going to sing a song together, just for you. This one’s called ‘Coming Home to Him.’”
She hits her mark on stage, and the band starts playing.
A few strains in, I open up the song—a soulful duet, re-covered acoustically to showcase Silver’s skill with a guitar and her folk/pop sound.
The lyrics speak to the duality of loving one person and how it’s different depending on the lover, the relationship, and the challenges that come with every season.
How pain can tear you apart or glue you back together, and how home isn’t just a place or a feeling; it can be a person, too.
As Silver takes over, my gaze slides over to Hayden, and I wonder if maybe this place and that man might someday be what I can call home.
We finish the song with an epic harmony, leaning against one another back to back. When we’re done, the crowd takes a beat to let it sink in, and then they lose their minds, screaming as Silver beams out at them, relishing the moment and the sound of a packed-out pavilion cheering her on.
Wrapping her up in my arms, I give her a good squeeze and whisper, “You kicked ass, Silver. Great job and good luck!”
Then we both jog off stage, and I’m about to head into another costume change when Hayden follows behind me. He’s got his phone in hand and a grim expression on his face.
“Hey. Everything okay?” I ask, stripping down out of one costume and into another.
“We got a situation down in the pavilion,” he says. “Got a Code 808 for a kidnapping.”
“What?” I gasp. “What do you need from me? Do I need to stop the show or call them out or something?”
“No, don’t do anything out of the ordinary.
We’ve got guys already working it. Silver’s with Dane.
” He nods across the stage where Dane looks like he’s briefing Silver and sweeping her toward the exit.
“He’s one of ours. The last thing we need is for everyone here to have a mass panic.
Controlling a crowd in hysterics would be a total clusterfuck. ”
“So, I just… keep carrying on?”
Hayden nods. “For everyone’s safety, it’s best if the show goes on. I’m here if you need me, and I’m not taking my eyes off you.”
And for the rest of my set, I take comfort in the knowledge that he’s got my back.
It’s only when I’m backstage after the show, staring at another box sitting inside my dressing room, that I think Hayden might be right to worry.