“We don’t care,” Jax declared.
“We don’t?” I whispered while glaring daggers at the woman and encouraging her to put her cell phone back in her purse. She continued to snap pictures clearly unfazed about being caught.
Jax leaned into me, making me forget about the woman in the corner as well as my first name.
He hooked his finger under my chin and kissed me. Holding it, he dared me to close my eyes and sink into him.
But lightning bolts zapped behind the skin where our lips met, and I couldn’t close my eyes even if I had wanted to. They were locked on his.
“We don’t,” Jax repeated firmly when he moved his mouth an inch away from mine.
“Okay, then,” I managed while trying not to swallow my tongue. He still didn’t let go of my chin, and suddenly I was touching my lips with the tip of my tongue, preparing for another taste of Jax Bone.
“There is always some nosey old lady when we go out,” Jax’s mom muttered. “Jax here can’t go anywhere without some paparazzo following him.”
“It’s part of the business I signed up for.” Jax shrugged. “I can’t really complain when half of their pictures help sell my albums or attract new fans.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for it,” I reflected out loud. “Although, I might not make it much further in the competition, and then no one will care about me anymore. And in past years, the paparazzi have really only followed the super good-looking winners of the show. They might not even want to follow me and take my photo.”
“She’s kidding, right?” Bambi asked Jax as if I wasn’t sitting at the same table.
He turned to her and, as I stared at him in shock, replied, “Sometimes she is super country, meaning she’s ready to break my balls at a moment’s notice with an imaginary loaded rifle. And sometimes she’s so country she’s naïve and innocent like a new lamb brought in for slaughter. It’s part of her charm.”
I raised a brow. “What are you guys talking about? If you’re referring to me, you should know I’m no lamb. I wouldn’t break your balls with a rifle when a hammer will do just fine.”
Both Jax and his mother burst out laughing, and I wasn’t sure if I should laugh with them or keep scowling.
“Little girl, you’re the prettiest contestant Superstardom has ever had. If you think the flies with cameras aren’t going to start buzzing around you, you better think again,” Bambi told me softly. “But don’t you fret. I think you’ll take to this life like a duck to water. Speaking from experience, it’s usually family and friends who have the harder time of it. We’re not born for the spotlight like our talented kids.”
“You think your friend is going to have problems if these and other new photos come out?” Jax asked me somewhat urgently.
I felt like his question was asking something else, so I decided to lay it all out there.
“Zach’s going to have a problem with everything. And he’s going to be hurt about photos of me with you. He left me a note before he returned home. I don’t think anything I’m doing in LA is something he’s going to be proud of now, but I hope in time he’ll understand.”
“What did the note say?” he growled, loud enough for even the snooping lady to hear. “He pissed because you wouldn’t leave your chance in the music industry to follow him back to some small town?”
“No, not at all. He wanted to stay. He wanted to support me and be with me. But he has his own dreams, and I made him promise to put those dreams first. His note just said ‘You’ll regret the things you’ve done.’ Look, I’m sure he was just being dramatic because his feelings were hurt. He probably wrote it straight after I asked him to leave. He was probably hoping it would change my mind and I’d say I need him.”
“You won’t regret anything.” Jax looked directly into my eyes. “And you won’t need anybody to make it in this music industry. If he thinks you’re spending time with me because you need my help or I believe you can’t do this on your own, he’s wrong. He also clearly doesn’t understand your talent. You’re not like the contestants who keep needing us to tell them how to manage the stage and their pitch. You stand on that stage and everyone in the audience is under your spell.”
My heart leaped at Jax’s words, but I felt the need to defend my best friend’s opinion of my talent. “He really does think I’m good enough to make it in the industry. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for his confidence. He also didn’t say anything about you helping me through the competition when it should be him. Hell, he wrote the note with a red lipstick. I think he was just upset and reacting after our dinner.”
His face went from enraged to confused in seconds.
“It was written in lipstick,” he repeated, his brows furrowed.
“Yep, that doesn’t say to me that he thought out what he was going to write and really believed it. Although, it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings,” I confessed.
“Does he usually write notes in red lipstick?” Jax asked slowly. He appeared lost in his own thoughts.
“No, but my mother was wearing red lipstick that night, so I figured he probably grabbed it from her purse after dinner.” I shrugged. I thought it was time for a new topic. Jax’s face had gotten hard, and I wanted us to go back to the moment when he was smiling at me and thinking of me as a lamb. “I’m thinking I could go for some ice cream after dinner. Is there a—”
“Did he sign it with his name?” Jax interrupted.
“No, but it’s not like I upset people every night.” I laughed nervously, feeling the tension Jax began to radiate.
“Billie, you’re on a show thousands of people auditioned for, and that’s enough to upset some people. And you’ve been photographed with me, and I’ve received a few notes in red lipstick since I became a popular musician. They were never from friends or family.”
“You’ve also never told your best friend since birth that you don’t want them to spend time with you after they’ve kissed you for the first time,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I doubt you’ve had to deal with that issue.”
“You’re sure he sent you that note?” Jax asked firmly. “After he begged to stay and support you? You truly believe it was him and no one else?”
“Well, there’s a small chance someone else could have written it, but I really do everything in my power not to piss people off.”
“Have you gotten any other notes?” Jax asked, his voice going eerily quiet. “Usually when a crazy fan leaves one note and gets away with it, they tend to leave another.”
“The only other notes I’ve received since arriving in L.A are the ones from you.” I smiled.
“What do you mean, the ones from me?” He gripped the table tightly.
“The notes you left me in the hotel room,” I said hesitantly. “After our week together when I got to LA.”
Jax looked to his mom, who watched us both with fear in her eyes. He exhaled slowly. “Billie, I haven’t sent you any notes. And in this business, you don’t need to do anything specific to have some crazy fan after you. Hell, this might be one of my crazy fans. We need to call Donny. Now.”
The hairs on my arms stood on end.
“Precious, like it or not, you’re a celebrity now,” Bambi began while squeezing my hand. “And Jax is right, there are plenty of people in this world who like to come after those who look like they have everything they ever wanted. It’s best to leave it to the professionals like Donny to work out how to handle them.”
“Will I need to hire him? I don’t have any money, Jax. I know that’s not something we’ve really spoken about before, but I couldn’t afford to hire him. And if I need security, I can’t afford that either.” My hands shook. I couldn’t handle this. This was never a part of my daydreams.
“Billie, I pay Donny enough that if I asked him to build you a house free of charge, he would do it, and the security can be charged to the show if we need it. You don’t need to worry about the cost. We just need to keep you safe.”
Sh
e can’t be kept in the basement
Jax
I’d planned on taking Billie to my favorite lookout after dinner. I wanted to show her the way the traffic lights of downtown Los Angeles shined. I intended to convince her to slow dance with me before kissing her deeply. I was going to pretend to be a huge romantic idiot, hoping it would lead us back to my place. We would spend the rest of the night sitting on the couch together with our legs tangled, my hands in her thick curls, and really great music playing softly in the background. The competition and her hometown best friend would be mere memories.
I never imagined that Billie and I would end up back at my house with Donny, two executive producers from the show, one record label representative, three security guards, and my mother handing out coffee and snacks. The lights of downtown Los Angeles were completely forgotten. The executives and security who were scattered around holding cups of coffee and paperwork kept making me want to fidget and run for the hills. All I had to do was force myself to keep looking at the scene everyone created in my living room and let the frustration and anger I had for the person who ruined my plans keep me from my flight impulses.
I tried to ignore the hushed argument between the producers, the record label guy, and Donny about who was liable for trying to make my relationship with Billie public. I didn’t let myself think about the amount of time the hired guards spent inspecting my security system and every bedroom window. When I heard discussions about identifying the differences between stalkers, fanatics of the show, and my superfans, I ensured my face appeared relaxed when my insides felt as if they were boiling and about to explode.
“Should we call the police?” Billie asked me when I stood in front of her. She was chewing on her lips and hugging her arms tightly against her body. She had curled up on the couch when I first opened my doors to all the people currently standing in the room, and she hadn’t moved since.
I sat down beside her. “If that would make you feel safer, we can.”
“No need to involve the cops,” Donny told us as he sipped from the cold coffee cup my mother handed him hours earlier. He turned into his best car salesman’s persona, unaware that sweat marks on his shirt revealed how he really felt about this situation. “They would just waste our time with warnings. Brian and Corey are the best in the business.”
“The police would just make this much more difficult. Plus, more people would just mean greater chances of leaked information,” one of the producers said before excusing himself to take a phone call.
“She shouldn’t stay in the rooms upstairs. Too many windows and access points for intruders,” Brian, the larger of the two security guards, said after he rejoined us in the living room.
“All of Jax’s rooms have floor-to-ceiling windows,” my mother stated. “Even the ones downstairs.”
“The studio doesn’t have windows,” Donny countered.
“She can’t be kept in the basement,” I groaned.
“I can go back to the hotel. There aren’t that many windows, and with the guards watching me—” Billie started.
“You aren’t going back to the hotel,” I stated matter-of-factly. “We already know the a**hole can get inside your room. For all we know they’re still f*cking in it.” When her face turned white, I wanted to hit myself.
“Maybe I should just go home to my momma,” she whispered softly.
“No, my dear, you definitely don’t need to do that,” the remaining producer told Billie calmly. “You will be perfectly safe in your room.” He turned to face me. “The show would never put her at risk. Linda has reassured me that we can change things up, keep her around some of the other contestants.”
“If she goes back to the hotel, I’ll stop doing the show,” I declared, then turned and looked directly into Donny’s eyes. I knew he understood that I was completely serious about the threat, contract or any lawsuit that followed be damned. “She stays here or she goes home. My master bedroom’s windows are bulletproof to protect me from stalkers. She’ll sleep there.”
One of the producers cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “No need to make threats. We’re all on the same side here. If the girl feels safe here, there’s no need to have her return to the contestant accommodation.”
I almost laughed. I knew the ratings were too important for them to let her leave or put an end to our chemistry on screen.
“We keep Corey and Brian with her at all times,” Donny informed everyone. “She can stay here with Jax in the master, and they’ll set up in this room as their base of operations until the person doing this is caught.”
“If I get another note—” Billie began, sounding frightened and confused.
“You won’t be getting another note,” I cut in adamantly. “That sh*t stops now.”
Everyone slowly made their way to the exit as the soft light of day dawned. They kissed Billie’s cheek, wished her well, and pressed their cell phones to their ears as they walked through the front door. The producers were still chatting with Linda and making plans for additional security during rehearsals as they made their farewells. And Donny walked out drinking his fifth cup of coffee while ensuring all mail for contestants was now redirected through his office and every room was swept prior to our arrival.
My mom decided to get a hotel room to give us some space but let me know in no uncertain terms that until she knew her only son was safe, she would be remaining in town. I hugged her, then reminded her that no one had threatened me, but if she felt she needed to stay, I would cover the costs. Her eyes shifted to Billie stock-still on the couch and she hugged me tighter. “Take care of her,” she whispered, and I nodded.
I watched Billie’s eyes follow my mom’s exit and then return to Donny’s ex-Marine Brian setting up a makeshift office in my living room. She appeared frozen, flinching only when he laid out a new weapon on the coffee table like they were books and a nightlight.
When I approached her, she began fidgeting with her necklace, and I thought about the rope I wished I could wrap around the neck of the person who made her look so lost.
“Let’s go upstairs. Get some sleep before you need to get to rehearsal,” I encouraged quietly while squeezing her hand. She kept staring at Brian. “Babe, come with me. I got you.”
That time she squeezed my hand back, reached for her purse, and gradually got to her feet.
“I’m not sure I want to be in your room by myself,” she told me shyly as we began walking up the stairs. She didn’t look at me, just continued staring at her feet.
I paused us on the staircase and squeezed her hand until she looked me in the eyes.
“I wasn’t taking you to my room to leave you there by yourself,” I replied. “I don’t want you out of my sight. We’re going to my room. We’ll both stay dressed. This isn’t me making a move—”
Before I could finish my sentence, she rose on her toes and brushed her lips against mine. “I wouldn’t mind the distraction,” she murmured. “I think I’m ready.”
I figured from the slight tremor of her hand that she wasn’t telling me she was ready for bed. “Billie, I want you to know there isn’t a moment with you that I don’t want to press my body against yours and kiss you until you can’t catch your breath. Every rehearsal, every performance, every smile—it takes every ounce of my self-control not to reach for you. Tonight though, I’m exhausted, and even though you say you want a distraction, I won’t have us being together be something else you need to worry about tomorrow morning. Hell, I’m starting to think I might not be ready until this whole show is over and I know you really want to be with me. So tonight we’re just cuddling.”
“Cuddling?”
“Yep.”
“Jax Bone cuddles?”
“Even better than I write songs.”
She laughed and the anger I’d been holding on to disappeared. I also remembered why I needed all my self-control around her. “Don’t get me wrong, there will be a time when I want us to do more than cuddle. We will share
a bed, I’ll make a move, and nothing else will be on your mind except how it feels when I run my hands over your body,” I told her, letting her see the heat I had inside me before I locked it down.
“Okay,” she murmured, her breath hitching. After a minute passed with us both just standing still staring at each other, she squeezed my hand. When we moved, she led me up the stairs.
I noticed Billie was the first woman I had ever invited into my bedroom who didn’t gush about the view or the size of the room. She ignored the famous artwork, the marble fireplace, and all the expensive features the interior decorator insisted would get my place in Architectural Digest. She simply walked directly to the two plush green chairs Donny had given me as a housewarming gift, hanging her jacket over the back of one before placing her purse on the other. I watched her slip off her shoes and walk to my bed without so much as a hiccup.
“Did you want one of my T-shirts?” I offered. “It might be more comfortable to sleep in than your jeans.”
She nodded, and I pulled off the shirt I was wearing and threw it at her. She laughed and rolled her eyes at me. “I thought you said we were both going to be dressed. If I’m wearing your shirt, what are you wearing to bed?”
“My boxers, which is me dressing for bed. Should I have mentioned that earlier?”
She rolled her eyes again and simply turned her back to me to undress. I decided to give her privacy and turned my back while stripping off my pants.
When I turned back around, I saw she had climbed into my California king bed, her blonde curls spread out across my white sheets. I couldn’t move fast enough. The moment I lifted the blankets over my body, Billie turned to her side and pressed her body against mine.
“Where do you think Brian and Corey will sleep tonight?” she asked when I wrapped my arms around her. “Will they fit on the couch?”
Childish Dreams Page 14
