Page 6 of Layla

I shake off my reaction to his voice to scowl at him. “I figured he’d want to do this in a conference room or something.” Louis is nothing if not uptight.

The guy’s gaze flickers down over me, no doubt taking in my freshly showered appearance, and he takes another minuscule step back. “I’ll go and find him.”

“No, it’s fine.” I step back, holding the door open wider. The last thing I need is for one of my bandmates to see this guy hulking around in the hallway outside my room. “I’ll just text him. Louis is always glued to his phone.”

G.I. Joe hesitates for a moment before following me into the room. “Have a seat,” I say, gesturing vaguely at the couch behind me as I tap out a quick text to Louis. I turn just in time to see him gingerly lift the bra I left strewn over the arm of the couch. I snort, crossing the room to grab it from him. Is he blushing? For some reason that amuses the hell out of me. That this giant beast of a man would blush just because he happened to see my leopard print bra.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” I say pointedly, and the guy frowns as he hovers over the couch, as if unsure whether to sit.

“Maybe I should wait in the hall.”

I toss the bra into the open suitcase on my bed. “You can’t handle some lingerie and you’re supposed to protect me from bad guys?”

His jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. I grin. There’s something oddly satisfying about knowing that I’m getting to him. “If the label actually expects you to follow me around, I can guarantee that my bra is going to seem pretty tame in no time at all. This is arocktour.”

He clears his throat. “I think we definitely need to discuss the label’s expectations.” God, why does his voice have to be so sexy? There’s something about the deep rumble of it that once again has goosebumps erupting on my arms. Or maybe that’s just a chill from having wet hair. Because I am definitely not attracted to this guy. Sure, maybe he caught my eye backstage earlier, but that was before I knew what he was here for. Now when I look at those impressive muscles, all I can see is my new warden. And besides, who keeps their hair styled that neatly? He’s still in a suit, for God’s sake. It’s after midnight. This guy is obviously as up-tight as Louis which is probably why our manager picked him.

I startle a little when I realize his former tight expression has relaxed into something that looks a lot like a smirk. “What?” I snap, crossing my arms.

His eyes never leave my face. “You’re scowling.”

“I’m not exactly happy about this arrangement.”

He nods, smirk fading. “I know it’s frightening—”

Something tightens in my belly and I shove the feeling down. “I’m notscared,” I snap. “Everyone is overreacting about the entire thing.”

His eyebrows go up but he doesn’t say anything. And for some reason that pisses me off even more. Is this guy always so…emotionless?

“I don’t need personal security,” I go on, voice rising now. “I’ve worked my ass off to get to this point and now the label wants to put some babysitter on me and keep me from having any fun—”

“What kind of fun do you think I’m planning on preventing you from participating in?”

I glare at him. “Well since I’m sitting here with you right now instead of out with my bandmates at the bar, I’m going to go out on a limb and say most of it.”

He merely watches me for a long moment, his face expressionless. Finally, he clears his throat. “Perhaps you’d like to get dressed.”

That has warmth spreading to my cheeks. “Why?” I snap. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

His eyebrows go up just a tiny fraction. “Not at all.”

His dispassion is really starting to annoy the hell out of me but before I can think of a properly cutting response, there’s another knock on my door. “Finally,” I grumble, turning to let Louis in. “Now we can get this over with.”

Louis takes one look at me in my bathrobe and frowns. “Why aren’t you ready for this meeting?”

I throw up my hands. “I was getting ready when G.I. Joe over there showed up. No one told me this was happening in my room.”

“We can go to my room,” Louis begins, but I cut him off.

“Just get in here so we can get this over with.”

Louis shuts the door behind him while I head to the mini-bar. “Anyone want a drink?” I ask, reaching for one of the tiny bottles of vodka. I glance over my shoulder. “Lou? G.I. Joe?”

“His name is John,” Louis says mildly. Then, more softly, he says to the bodyguard, “This is what I was talking about.”

I know he’s referring to my attitude and I want to snap at him but I concentrate on pouring my drink instead. Vodka is the only thing that can make this bearable.

“All right,” Louis says, once I’ve returned to the sitting area. “I see the two of you have met.”