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“While I appreciate that, I’m still surprised you’re escorting me. You’re not an in the spotlight kinda guy.” I wonder what Addie will say when she sees the pictures of Max by my side. I can already imagine the gossip that’ll spread like butter on warm toast. Quick and easy.
“When duty calls, I’ll do anything.” His smile turns down. Here we go again. He’s about to lecture me, for the umpteenth time, what I should do if anything looks, seems, or smells suspicious. Go inside immediately. He’s crazy if he expects me to leave the Red Carpet early. This might be a once in a lifetime opportunity. They’ll have to drag my dead body off. Of course, I didn’t share that tidbit with him. Knowing Max, he’d throw me over his shoulder and walk me off himself if he knew I didn’t plan on following his rules.
“Max, nothing will happen tonight. This is a very publicized event. You can’t pick your nose without someone snapping a shot.”
“Then don’t pick your nose.” I laugh at the serious tone in his voice. Oh, I won’t.
After makeup touch-ups and a quick peek at my nose, I smack my red lips together and take a sharp inhale, letting it out slowly. I’ve been counting each stop and we’re at seven now. We have to be close. Right as I’m about to ask the driver, Max sits forward and tells me we’ve got five minutes. My brows draw together. He taps his ear at my confusion. Ah, the hidden ear mic. Max, in his tux and gadgets, could be the next James Bond. He’d be the hottest of them all, that’s for sure.
Max watches me fidget. I run my hand over my dress, trying to straighten the creases. “You look gorgeous, Tink.” I halt my hand and glance up. Worry creeps up my spine that I won’t be able to hide the feelings I have for Max. It’s easy when I’m busy. But there are millions of cameras. Pictures that catch the perfect moment when I peek up at him adoringly are bound to happen. I close my eyes, searching for personal restraint.
He’s your bodyguard. Nothing else. Nothing more.
I jump and my eyes fly open when his hand covers mine. His touch throws me off balance, my fingers tingle under his hand. Why is he choosing now to touch me? I’m in the middle of hunting for self-control and he touches me?
The car stops and the door opens. My heart beats against my chest, not because of the crowds’ screams drifting into the car, but his gentle touch. We both stare at our connected hands for a beat before we’re instructed to get out.
“We’re here,” I whisper, removing my hand. I sigh when he doesn’t say anything. Not the time, Sydney.
Lights flash around us as we begin our trek down the red carpet. The smile plastered on my face is a true reflection on how I’m feeling on the inside. The excitement is hard to contain. My publicist, Aleena, flares out my dress and directs Max to stand next to me for the perfect shot. Then it’s rinse and repeat every two minutes during the photo op.
I bite my lip to suppress my laugh when Max has enough of her and snaps, “I got this.” She steps aside as he takes his position like he’s done the last ten pictures. My reaction amuses him. He smiles at me with a slight shake of the head. He leans down, his lips a breath away from my ear and whispers, “You think this is funny, huh?”
The heat of his voice sends prickles of goosebumps up my arm. When I draw back, our eyes lock. His eyes soften as they trail down to my lips causing my heart to turn over in response. Our bodies so close, his tux jacket brushing against my breast as I take in a heavy breath.
“It’s time to move,” Aleena says, pulling me out of my daze.
“But…” I spin around, mindlessly following because my head has yet to catch up to what I’m supposed to be doing. “Wait, we didn’t take pictures back there.”
Her smile widens as she glances at Max and back to me. Leaning in close, she answers, “They definitely got a lot of pictures.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I pin my glare on Max. The devilish smile plastered on his face makes it hard for me to maintain an even calm tone when I say, “You did that on purpose.” Seeming very pleased with himself, he motions for me to move forward, ignoring my accusation.
Max and his hurt ego go to the wayside with all the commotion on the carpet. After the pictures portion, Aleena directs me to the Radio Booths. She already has a list of the ones I’m stopping at. Max continues to stay by my side as we get closer to the booths, stepping back whenever a DJ interviews me. Even through all the commotion, the couple times he’s placed his hand on my lower back guiding me, the slight pressure feels heavy on my heart. I haven’t wanted him to remove it, but he does. Like he catches himself doing it and takes it away like I stung him.
In between reporters, I’m waving at screaming fans when my shoe snags on something sending me into Max’s arms. My whole body heats from embarrassment. Max lifts me to my feet without fuss, leaning down so his lips are a breath away from my ear. To the public, it might seem like we’re having a moment rather than me being clumsy.
“You all right?” he whispers.
I run my hand up his lapel, gathering my wits but when I put pressure on my left foot, something’s wrong. It lowers farther than my right. Oh no. No, no, no, this can’t be happening. I squeeze his lapel and let out a nervous whimper. Max pulls back and looks down at me, concerned.
“My heel broke,” I whine. “Max, what am I going to do? I can’t walk the red carpet with a broken heel.” I hold stock still, my hands grip his jacket out of desperation. Behind Max, fans scream my name, so I release a clenched fist and wave, managing a smile, but return my focus back on Max, hoping he has a fix. He can fix anything, right? He shrugs, shattering all my hopes. I drop my forehead against his shoulder.
Max’s large hand tilts my chin until we’re staring into each other’s eyes. “I’ve never known you to care what people think. Don’t start now.”
“But it’s—”
“What’s wrong?” Aleena says, stepping up to us.
“My shoe broke,” I grit out the words quietly as my irritation grows. “These stupid shoes cost more than my dress. How could they have broke?”
“I’ll have you new ones within fifteen minutes.” She hustles a few paces away from us, whipping out a phone.
“I can’t stand here for fifteen minutes.” My glare returns to Max and he hides a smile, pinching his lips together. “Oh. Now, who’s laughing at who?” I swat him on the arm. “You’re not helping.”
“What… Max,” I snap as I’m swooped up into his arms, and I have to throw my arm around his shoulder to sit higher. “What are you doing?” A few yells and whistles come from the crowd.
“Helping.”
