by Harper Sloan
"I can find my own porn, asshole. I swear something isn't right in your head."
"Hey! I would expect the same porn love from you. If you were to find a kickass video of the sexiest chick ever doing a human taco begging for uno mas, I would want to see it. What if you find one we haven't seen yet with that one chick who could bend herself in all those fucking crazy positions? Would you really keep that from me? Keep bendy girl all to yourself?!" Jamison looks seconds away from making a PowerPoint on why porn sharing means your friend loves you when he stops talking, spearing my brother with a look that just dares for him to disagree.
I stifle a giggle, leaning back into Chance's embrace.
"The last link you sent me was for a porn called Umpa-Loving," Wes complains. "The last thing I want when watching porn is for someone to ruin Willy Wonka for me. That film is a classic, man."
Jamison throws his head back and bellows a deep belly laugh.
"Can we be serious?" Luke interjects before they can continue their argument.
"I say we do it. Even if you guys won't let me have a secretary," Jamison expresses with complete seriousness. I think he might actually have been serious about that secretary too, freaking weirdo.
"I'm in," Luke agrees instantly.
"Wes?" I question, the excitement of a new beginning taking over my system.
He looks beyond me, and I have a feeling Chance is meeting his gaze since I feel him tense up slightly. "What about you?"
I hold my breath. He's made it clear that he doesn't want payment but refuses to let us look into hiring someone else to handle security who we can pay. It doesn't feel right to let him do all the work and not actually be paid for it. I'm not sure why he's holding firm on his adamant desire of not being compensated, especially since he won't let anyone else do it--but I'm beginning to think there's more to it than him not wanting to start something with me while being paid to be here. In the three days since I learned about him refusing our money, I've been trying to get him to agree to a wage, with no luck.
Knowing he isn't going to give in without me speaking up, I turn in his lap and look into his beautiful eyes. "You know I don't agree with you doing all this work to keep us safe without being paid. I get what you think is right, but no one is going to think differently of you because we're employing you as security. Hell, no one would even have to know."
"I would know, Wrenlee."
"Oh, the full name! That means someone's gonna get a spanking later, you defiant little girl," Jamison jabs.
Ignoring him, I do my best 'I mean business' face and try to reason with my hardheaded man. "You need to give this a break, Chance? You've said that you don't trust anyone more than yourself. Other than these three boneheads, I don't trust anyone else more than I trust you. So please say yes. We aren't asking you to be paid to keep us safe yourself anymore. It isn't the same thing as what originally brought you to us. We're asking you to be in charge of hiring a security team and organizing our travel and tour security. Like it or not, you're part of Loaded Replay because you're part of me. It's not like I'm asking you to accept paying for being fantastic in bed."
His lips twitch.
"Seriously, Chance. As my not husband, I want you by my side at all times, but I don't want you there because you're protecting that side. I want you there because I'm the happiest I've ever been since you took that position."
"For argument's sake, I should point out that as your not husband, it's my responsibility to be at your side, protecting you--not my job."
I raise my brow. "And I'm asking you to do something that would keep you in the same spot, but also give you the responsibility of putting together a team who would be at your side as well as mine--keeping both of us safe, together."
His jaw clenches, and for a brief second, I wonder if he's going to say no. I mean it; I want him here by my side, but I also don't want him to resent me down the road if he regrets leaving his job. Chance isn't the type of man who would be happy being idle. He needs to feel like he's contributing; something he's proved each day that he's been here, and I need to feel like he's appreciated for doing so. I also know that he is damn good at what he does, and no one else should be in charge of hiring the people who will protect us. If he's so dead set on being the one who keeps me safe, then so be it, but I want to know a qualified team keeps all the people I love covered--him included.
Jesus, did I just lump Chance into that category? It's too early for all of that, right? I know our relationship is unconventional and moving at a quicker speed than normal. Even if he hadn't entered this as my fake whatever, we would never have been able to date like normal people, and it's because of that our relationship will always age at a speed others would take years to reach. Even if it seems fast, it feels right.
"If I say yes to this, no one else aside from me will be in charge of your protection, Wren."
"Agreed." Did he really think I would say no to that? As if.
"I think we should probably talk more about this when we're ... alone." He pauses, and I frown, wondering why we need to talk about this alone. It involves all of us. Unless he's having second thoughts about us. "Get those doubts out of your head, Wren. We need to talk so you can make sure this is really what you want. You're asking me to sign on to something that would mean you would have me in your face, at your side, constantly. I would always be here, and we would be taking our relationship from the early stages straight to moved in and picking out china patterns. I want you to think about this before it's offered again."
"How many times do I need to remind you that you're already my not husband? Maybe I should be more upset that you haven't taken me to pick out china."
"Think about it. Really think about it." He continues, ignoring my attempt to lighten the mood.
My shoulders drop, feeling oddly upset. "We can talk tonight," I concede.
"Do you mean talk to him with your south mouth?" Jamison butts in.
"Shut up, Jami!" everyone in the room yells at the same time.
It's been a long as fuck day.
Everyone's been gearing up to hit the road in the morning, so the mood in the house is almost manic. These guys have been on the road for so long with no break, they almost don't know how to reorganize their thoughts and prepare to head back out. They've also been unsure about how to move forward until they knew where things with Brighthouse stood.
I think a little part of it is the bittersweet feeling they have knowing this will be their last guaranteed tour. Sure, if they decide not to go back to a major label after it's over, they can still tour--but it would be a lot easier and certain if they had the bigwigs handling all the bullshit details for them.
I've been uneasy ever since our meeting earlier today in the recording studio. I can't put a finger on exactly why I feel that way, but I know it all stems around their offer for me to leave Corps Security--officially--and let them hire me as their lead for all things security.
Would it be hard for me to accept this offer, knowing it would keep me with Wren? Of course, it fucking wouldn't be. But it's important to me that I don't give her any ammunition to doubt my desire to be here. I knew from the jump that if I were here, being paid, it wouldn't feel right to start something with her while I was being compensated by them to do a job. I almost didn't even accept the job because the attraction between us had been so strong. It had been that way since I went to one of their shows a few years prior and locked eyes with her in the middle of the concert. In the end, though, I figured I could stay strong at the same time as protecting someone I felt some sort of connection to. That all changed before we even left New York, and I knew I was fighting a losing battle. It was the easiest decision ever at that point to end their contract with Corps Security.
I will never regret that decision because now that I have her, I can move forward without her ever doubting why I'm here.
Of course, it wasn't until she revealed her fear of people being close to them for the right reasons that I realized I
made the right call.
"You look deep in thought," Wren calls from the end of the bed. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even hear her enter the bedroom.
"Rightfully so, don't you think?"
Her shoulders fall, and I feel bad for not just conceding to what they offered me, but there's no way I can without having this talk with her.
"Talk to me, Chance," she implores, moving to sit on the bed at my side and placing her hand on my chest.
"You get that I care about you, right?" Her eyes flash happiness, but other than that, she just nods, giving me the time to finish and hear me out. "I care about you a whole fucking lot more than a man should after only knowing you two weeks. I'm already close to getting lost in you, Wren, and I'm not even the least bit upset about that. But I know you have doubts about people getting close to you and the guys. I even understand why you feel that way. I don't want you to ever doubt the reason I'm here."
"I wouldn't," she argues emphatically.
"You don't know that. What happens if weeks, months, or even years down the road something happens and that doubt comes back?"
She stands, the absence of her hand leaving a burning sensation on my chest. For a second, I almost knife off the bed and bring her back, but she places a knee on the mattress and climbs up until her bottom is resting on my jeans-covered hips. Both hands hit my chest this time, rubbing softly through the cotton. Her eyes never leaving mine.
"The day I met Garrett, he asked me to introduce him to Dix. The very day. He was the last man I had dated officially, but I had met a few who could have turned into something had they not asked the same thing of me within an hour of meeting. The day that you realized you couldn't deny the feelings we shared for each other, you did the opposite by quitting the job we hired you to be here for and then you continued as if you hadn't. You have made it clear from the very beginning that you don't want to be here for any other reason than what we've been building together, Chance. I would never, could never, doubt what we have."
"What happens when people all start saying we met because I was being paid to be here?"
She smiles coyly. "No one knows what brought us together, Chance."
"Brighthouse does. I was there when Wes made the call to formally request my presence after we found that bullshit in your contract."
"And did he ask if you, Chance Nash, could be hired? Or did he ask if we could hire someone?"
I think back to that day when Wes had made the call. "He didn't refer to me by my name."
"Then I think it's safe to say that scenario will never happen. If someone makes the connection with your background in security, then they do. If you ask me, that will make you being in charge of our security team all the more plausible with us being not married and all. Why would I think about hiring someone else to build the best defense team to keeping the people I love safe? After all, the only one who would do the best job of that is already in charge of the heart that does that loving."
"I don't want you to resent me, Wren. Can't you see I'm trying to give us the best start here since I know how much the past has jaded you to trust other's motives?"
"Jesus Christ, Chance. I'm not ever going to look at what we have and think that. Ever! A man who has the type of integrity that you have would never, ever do that to me. Can't you see? I'm terrified that you'll leave without a reason to stay!"
Momentarily taken aback, my jaw slacks, and I look at this beautiful woman on my lap like she's lost her damn mind. "Wren." I sigh softly. "Don't you see that you are my reason to stay?"
"I am now. What happens when you get bored of traveling with us? When you get sick of being cooped up in this house? I won't ever have a normal life, Chance, and our relationship will always be different because of that. Not to mention, when we aren't in the studio, we're always on the move. Tours keep me away for months. You aren't the kind of man who can be idle and happy not to contribute. You've proven that each day you've been here, inserting yourself in our lives to pull your weight. That hasn't gone unnoticed or unappreciated. You say I'm your reason to stay, but I can't have you resenting me later when you don't feel challenged."
It's on the tip of my tongue to remind her that she's challenge enough for me, but I know now isn't the time to joke. "I could retire tomorrow and still live a comfortable life, Wren. My dad's family came from money, lots of money, and I inherited it all from both he and Tracy when they died. I don't need the money."
"It isn't about the money, Chance! It's about you being needed for something bigger than whatever misplaced doubts you might think I could grow into. It's about more than my fear that you'll grow bored. In five years, we have never felt safe with the security Brighthouse put on us. Not once were we confident that someone wouldn't slip through the many cracks and hurt us. You popped in two weeks ago, and in all of that time, through three sold-out shows in one of the biggest cities and travel between crazy airports, we have finally breathed a sigh of relief that we don't have to be on guard. You gave us that gift. We all trust you to ensure that feeling for a long time to come because you've earned our trust to confidently do it. So no, it isn't about the money, Chance; it's about what's right for Loaded Replay and what's right for you."
"Wren," I breathe.
"No, Chance. Let me make it perfectly clear. I will never doubt your motives for being here. We're cut from the same cloth, honey. Both of us wear the scars of our jaded past, but if you feel even a little bit like I do for you, then you've felt the healing touch of them disappearing since the moment our bodies first touched. I need what you give me more than my next breath. That isn't something anyone would be able to give up. People fight a lifetime to find this, and I had almost lost faith that I would ever have this."
Goddamn, her words hit me, and I feel the sweet sense of being whole for the first time in my life by them. She's right; some people will never find the kind of connection we have.
"I felt that two weeks ago when I met you, Chance, but each day that we're together, it grows into something larger than I will ever understand. You say taking this offer would jump-start our relationship, but that happened the day you walked through the door and put that reporter in her place."
I clear my throat. "Actually, for me, it started almost three years ago when I stood in the front row of a Loaded Replay concert and locked eyes with the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"What?" She gasps.
"I took Dani and her girlfriends to your show while Cohen was overseas and all that shit was going down with her. It was the first time I had ever seen you outside of magazines and the television. I think I felt the kick of us even back then."
Her chin wobbles, and for a second, I worry that she might cry. "God, Chance. How can you say that and not get that I'll never have any doubts?"
"Because no matter how you slice it, it's still only been a few weeks."
"And in my world, honey, those two weeks might as well mean two years. Our relationship will never move at a speed measured in time. What else can I say other than when you know, you know?" Her hands move as her eyes implore me to understand.
"We sit down and come to an agreement we can all live with, and I'm on board. Even if that means you agree to donate a salary I might receive to a charity of my picking."
A smile brighter than anything I've ever seen on her face almost steals the breath from my chest seconds before she jumps forward. Her hands push up from my chest until she's holding them on either side of my face and her mouth is moving against mine in a deep kiss.
In the end, I might have given in, but I know that after our talk tonight, there is no way that either of us could look back and regret or doubt our relationship. Not only was this something I knew I needed to do, but I also needed her to tell me that I wasn't alone in this overwhelming feeling of pure fucking bliss after such a short time. She's right; our relationship will never be measured by time, not when it feels like I've been working my whole life just to make my way to her.
"So what do we say when they start asking about your marriage?" Dyllan jokes, looking at Wren before giggling.
"You don't say anything," she answers.
"Well, are you going to say anything?"
Wren glances over at me and winks. "We talked about it, and I think it's kind of fun to play the game of not confirming anything to them but also not denying it."
Dyllan lets out a boastful laugh. "That's just going to make them all rabid for more. They won't stop until they know the truth."
"I don't live my life to feed their bullshit rumor-infested magazines, Dyll."
Instantly, her hands go up in surrender, and you can tell she feels bad. "I didn't say you do, Wren. I was just pointing out that you will only make them get a little more crazy about it if you don't just say you guys are dating and call it a day."
I feel Wren slouch in her seat next to me, exhaling a long breath. She shifts in her seat, getting more comfortable. "My love life is private, Dyll. They get so much of me already that I'm allowed to decide how much of my private life is exposed."
"So you're just going to continue the marriage ruse?"
"I'm going to continue enjoying my life with Chance at my side. If they want to assume something without confirmation, that's on them."
"Got it," Dyllan says. "At least, they'll put an end to the baby rumor as soon as they realize you aren't growing a belly," she adds before turning back in her seat and looking out her window.
"Until the next time we end up ordering too much room service and all of us are rocking food babies," Jamison jokes from the backseat.
"Ha!" Wes laughs. "Wren looked like she was about to birth a real baby after that night."
I feel her shift, and then I get the full effect of her attention slamming into me when those blue eyes lock with my own. My heart picks up speed, just like it's always done, and I feel my face get soft. Something she notices when some of the irritation I had seen on her face clears.
"Why did we agree to drive to Vegas?" she questions.
"It was easier to drive since the team I would have had with us during our flight can head on out to Vegas ahead of us and make sure everything is in place before we get there. I can handle it by myself, but since news might break any day now about your split from Brighthouse, I didn't want to be the only one on you all when it hit the press."
