8. Jackson #2
“It’s just fun. No one is saying you’re a thing. It’s just a ship. It’s a fandom thing, like Oh my God, if he was my bodyguard, I’d be all over that or Let’s make Jackstone a thing this year .”
“Jackstone? What the hell is that?”
“If you were together, the internet would call you Jackstone. Like Brad and Angelina were Brangelina. It’s cute.”
I shake my head, amazed and amused. “Jackstone.”
“Same-sex ships are a big thing in fandom. So, there you go. Bye.” She drops a kiss onto my cheek, scoots out of the car, and heads into school.
I drive away, mulling over ships and internet trends and wondering if they mean anything or nothing at all.
Nothing at all probably.
So I put them out of my mind as I return to my parents, and spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon with them. Then, I head to the hotel to pick up Stone, and we make our way to the airport.
One month, and he’s been true to his word.
He’s been Stone the fun dude, Stone the rocker, Stone the “I’m having a blast” guy. He’s held on to his resolve, and so have I.
Everything’s been the way it was before—because I can compartmentalize anything.
And clearly he can too.
Thank God.
Neither of us has bent.
Neither one of us has slipped.
We are client and bodyguard.
Not a thing—just a ship .
As I drive, I ask Stone, “We’re heading off to Miami now?”
When I checked the agenda, he had meetings scheduled there with some producers he works with. But Stone shakes his head. He drums his palms on the dashboard. “How would you feel about going back to Vegas?”
“Vegas?” I ask, as if I’ve never heard of it. But what I’m really thinking is Vegas, the scene of the crime .
“Brother, my managers inked a deal with The Extravagant.”
“For another one-night-only show?”
He shakes his head, his grin a deliciously satisfied one. “Nope. This is for a two-week residency starting at the end of next week. And we’re going there now to get everything in motion. Press interviews, rehearsals, and all that magic.”
“Two weeks in Vegas?” I repeat, like I need to process this change of plans, and evidently I do. It’s not only the two weeks of the residency. It’s the nearly two weeks before the show starts.
“Indeed. We’ve got suites at The Extravagant the whole time.”
The setup is no different there than at any other place. Truly, it isn’t.
The only difference is that Vegas is where I slipped. Vegas is where I pushed him up against the wall, dragged my lips over his, and kissed the breath out of him.
Vegas is where I told him how much I wanted to fuck him.
My gaze drifts briefly to the guy in the passenger seat. I take in his carved cheekbones, his turn-me-all-the-way-on stubble, his crooked grin.
Then my eyes go lower, cataloging the ink on his strong, toned arms, all of it on display in his T-shirt with BoJack Horseman on the front.
I snap my eyes back to the road, licking my lips and swallowing roughly.
Trouble is, I still want to fuck him.
Still want to feel him. Taste him. Have him.
But a city is just a city—nothing more.
Vegas doesn’t have a special hold on me.
Besides, I don’t have to rely solely on my willpower. Stone has his too, and he’s been sticking to his resist-me challenge.
“Vegas, baby,” I say with a smile. This is the gig. Keep the client safe and happy.
And the gig is what I’m doing.
I need this job to pay off the debt.
The stupid debt that stresses me out.
I try to shuck off the tension on the way to the private airport. I try to shed it even as I’m walking through security, focused on my job, not on myself, and not on the debts I have to pay for a man who didn’t respect my wishes.
When we walk past the one sundry shop that’s peddling travel pillows that vibrate, Stone points to it. “You look like you could use one.”
“Yes, I need a vibrating pillow for the flight. That’s not weird at all.”
“Or . . . I give great massages.” His voice drops a little lower. “As you know.”
A shudder slides through me at the memory of the way he ran his thumb over my neck that day in the limo, releasing all that tension. How good it felt.
How it turned me on.
Vegas.
We aren’t even in the city, and already I feel its pull.
The way it lowers my guard.
“You do,” I answer, and hazard a glance his way.
But he’s looking ahead, wearing his usual smile. I don’t know if he’s aware that nearly everything that comes out of his mouth is borderline flirty, nearly dirty.
It’s just who he is.
Maybe he didn’t mean to remind me. Maybe this is just part of Stone being Stone. And making a big deal out of something that’s not a big deal is me being me.
Everything will be fine.
The city won’t change me.
I’m stronger than that.
Tougher than Vegas.
Soon, I’m on a private jet, soaring over the country, and I let go of all the things weighing on me. There’s only one solution for the stupid motorcycle—keep paying it off, since Fabian can’t.
That’s what happens when you fall for an impulsive person, someone who puts his wishes first.
Who tells you each stunt will be the last.
Maybe I’m the fool because I took him at his word. I wanted so badly to believe him.
But what’s done is done. The past is the past.
I’ve moved on, and all I can do is keep my focus on my future.
That means I’ll keep doing my job, something that comes naturally to me.
Especially right now on Stone’s private jet.
We gather near the front row, surrounded by his entourage—mama bear Candi, his publicist, and quick-witted Veronica, his manager, and the other bodyguards.
Candi’s showing us the pic she posted on Instagram a few hours ago—a shot of Stone visiting an animal rescue in Portland, snuggling with senior cats and dogs who need homes.
“And they were all adopted today,” she boasts.
“You’re the rock star for setting it up,” Stone says.
The whole crew chats about the upcoming tour, then we settle into our seats and I head toward the back row, my usual spot.
There is not a chance of anything happening between the two of us, even with the lure of Vegas on the horizon.
Besides, he issued his challenge and he delivered.
I drew my lines, and I delivered too.
But when he joins me in the back of the plane, those lines aren’t so clearly defined anymore.
Nor am I sure I want them to be.