Page 46 of Forced Proximity

‘Definitely.’ Justin nods.

‘It was nice to meet you, Doc,’ Gavin says to me, then taps Justin on the shoulder. ‘Forgot to tell you the reading for the Scorsese movie was cancelled, so don’t bother showing up next month or whenever you were scheduled.’

‘Funny, I was going to tell you the same.’ They chat for a few more moments when Justin sends Gavin away with a handshake. After Gavin’s out of earshot, Justin leans into my ear. ‘Hey, I would’ve never outed you like that, but with his security situation, I figured it would be fine.’

I exhale. The chances of this Gavin guy being the stalker are slim. ‘It’s fine. What happened?’

‘I don’t know a lot of details. Sounds like his ex is … struggling with their breakup.’ Justin glances at a group of men at a table waving him over. ‘Duty calls. You good? Need anything?’

‘Nope.’ When he doesn’t move, I nudge his arm. ‘I’m good. Go.’

For the next hour, I analyze every club-goer’s micro-movements, survey the area and quadruple-check the exits. People gravitate towards Justin, approaching him with hugs and smiles. He’s clearly the star in the room, but most folks are from the industry and not gawking like fans. So for now, even though I’m alert, I breathe.

Several servers take long, hard, gratuitous looks at Justin, and a few people beyond the VIP area have their cell phones pointed his way. I can’t do much about the phones – the club allows it, and this is not a private event.

Justin lifts himself from a table and weaves toward me. ‘Come, sit. Relax. Have another lime in your soda.’

Damn him and his smile breaking my concentration. ‘I can’t relax. I’m on the clock.’ His overexaggerated frown cracks me up. I nod toward his glass. ‘What are you drinking?’

He shakes the ice in his half-empty glass. ‘Sapphire tonic.’

‘I thought you didn’t drink?’

‘I never said I don’t drink. I maintain a dry house for many reasons. But when I go out, sometimes I’ll throw back a couple.’ He throws a glance at Conner taking a shot. ‘I still leave the heavy drinking to Conner.’

I’ve been counting how many drinks Conner has downed. Three already. Ugh. Justin is my primary focus, but he and Conner are tight. With excessive drinking, it usually goes one of two ways: dancing or fighting. Hopefully, it’ll be the first.

An old-school Lady Gaga remix with a club beat thumps through the speakers, and my foot taps against the floor. ‘I love this song.’

His lip curves at the corner. ‘I never pegged you for a pop fan.’

‘Oh yeah?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘What did you peg me for?’

‘Metal? Grunge?’ He sips from the glass. ‘Something dark and angry.’

‘Really?’ I sip from the straw like Zane instructed – to not mess with my painted lips – and lean into him. ‘Want to know a little secret?’

His face lights up. ‘Absolutely.’

‘I’m a hardcore Swiftie.’

He laughs. ‘Are you serious?’

‘I’m dead serious. I’m the biggest Taylor Swift fan. Hand to God. She’s a lyrical genius, a Bob Dylan of our time, and I’ll get in the ring with anyone who says otherwise.’ I twirl the straw against the ice, enjoying his expression a little too much – the sparkle in his eyes, the tiny crow feet spreading to his temple. Every time I see that look, something warm fills me. ‘If you ever hear me singing in the shower, nine times out of ten, it’s to “Shake it Off”.’

He tilts his head down, chuckling. ‘I cannot get this visual out of my head.’

‘Of me in the shower?’ I crack and instantly try to suck back the comment.

Conner strolls to us before Justin can say anything, thank God. He slides in next to me and gives me a small bump on the hip. ‘These guys leaving you alone tonight, or do I need to throw hands?’

Justin’s grin immediately drops.

‘I’m good, thank you.’ Conner’s kind of a tool. But I think he’s serious about wanting to defend me which carries a sort of misguided sweetness. No need for me to kill his ego and remind him that I could take any of these men out myself.

He throws back the rest of his drink. ‘Looks like I need another one. Doc, call me if you need me.’ He rolls his eyes at Justin’s kill glare. ‘Dude, come on! I need you to wingman for me with the blonde over there. I’m not above using your fame to find me a woman.’

Justin groans, but nods. Before he leaves, he glances at me with this look, like he has something more to say. And I want to hear what it is. Dammit. I want to hear what else he has to say, and this is a problem. A huge, fucking problem.