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“The security Jude hired,” he tilts his head toward Max. “Meet your new security detail.”
I swallow, hesitating to look at Max, torn by conflicting emotions. Graham smirks like he just stole a cookie behind his mom’s back. It’s one thing coming here to see if I’m all right, but being by my side for the unforeseeable future… it’s not a good thing.
All day, I’ve yearned for Max’s touch, but talked myself out of it, knowing he’s headed back home as soon as I get out of the hospital. I don’t want to set either of us up for disappointment again. But now, he’s here full time. How do you tell the guy that wants to save you to save himself? His hero complex has always been stronger than his feelings.
“Can we have a sec,” I whisper to Graham.
His lips twist with a raise of a brow, expressing that I need to lighten up. Of course, he’s excited Max is here. He blows out a resigned breath, knowing he doesn’t get a say in this, before he pushes off my bed and glides out, with one last pleading glance. I roll my eyes and shoo him out with my hand.
“You know he likes you, right?” I say, avoiding what I really want to say.
Max chuckles and shrugs a shoulder. “It’s good to be liked.”
The sheets crinkle as I adjust my sitting position, tugging them off my legs. My body’s heat increases as Max pins his eyes on me. The decent sized hospital room closes in around us. It’s like the universe is pushing us together. The question is, can I fight the pull if he’s right next to me?
“Max,” I sigh. “You know security teams all over the freaking world. Why are you taking this job? Especially with how I left New York..”
He clicks his jaw. “Because you almost died. I already had a guy on your current detail that works for me.” The bite of his tone has my attention so I skip out on telling him I already figured that out. “It’s just until we find out who did this,” he adds quickly. Despite the sting of his last words, I nod. The faster we can get back to normal the better. Him on the east coast, me on the west.
“Everything will be all right, Tink.”
I flash a hesitant smile knowing my heart and my life are on the line. The words to the song Everything’s Gonna Be Alright by David Lee Murphy and Kenny Chesney escape my nervous lips. Max chuckles as I snap and sway in my bed.
“Seems your wings are straightening out.” He flashes a sweet smile and I tilt my head, his previous words about my twisted wings coming back to me. I hadn’t realized what he meant until this moment. The music. It’s in my heart and soul, part of my inner being. But during that year, I tuned it all out. My voice created it, but my soul was deaf to the melody. Does he know it’s all because of him I can hear again? Feel the rhythm of the music? “Get some rest. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”
My thoughts leave me reeling as I watch his large, muscular body stroll out the room.
Focus on the music.
Not on Max.
Chapter Eighteen
Sydney
“Oh, hey,” I say to the good-looking guy standing guard outside my hotel room door. I thought I heard room service, but this guy is not room service. He’s wearing all black and his eyes are intense, but they never leave mine.
“Ms. Owen.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Kase Nixon.”
“Nice to meet you. You’re one of Max’s guys?” I tilt my head, studying him, knowing full well he works for Max. There has been a guy stuck to my side for the past week. Although, I’m surprised I don’t recognize him. Max never mentioned a new team member.
“I am.”
Great. He’s about as talkative as Max.
“Well… nice to meet you.” I back into my room and shut the door when it becomes clear he’s not into small talk.
My nerves are getting the best of me. Being back into the mix of things, knowing there is someone out there that wants to hurt me is giving me spikes of panic. Tomorrow night is my first concert since being released from the hospital. I eye my cell phone on the coffee table. He can make me feel safe. Fear of walking through that door makes me pause. He wasn’t supposed to come running to save me, dammit. This is his fault, he’s opened the door again and now I can’t stop thinking about him.
Oh, screw it.
“What’s wrong?” he answers the phone.
Reality hits me, my cheeks heat from embarrassment. “I hate that your first concern is something’s wrong when I call.” He remains silent on the other end, I’m sure wondering why the hell I’m calling. “I just want to talk.”
“Anything specific you want to talk about?” The deep timbre of his voice, vibrates inside of me.
I need to hear your voice.
