Copyright © 2018 by Jade Webb

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Editor:

Taryn Lawson

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JW Author Services To Pedro, who never stopped believing. Te amaré por siempre.

CHAPTER ONE

finish taping the box, pulling a marker out of the pile of unruly hair I had thrown into a bun atop my head, and I label SWEATERS on the side. Everything officially organized into neat piles, I look around the room and survey the mountains of boxes, suitcases, and trash bags surrounding me. So, this is what four years of life looks like? Plopping down onto a large box storing all the college textbooks I couldn’t bear to part with, I decide to call it a day and celebrate my packing feat with a big glass of Pinot. Or rather, an elegant Evian bottle of Pinot, since all my glasses are packed. As I summon the energy to navigate my way through the maze of boxes to the kitchenette, the unmistak‐ able chime of my Nokia phone pulls me back to reality. I mutter out a curse as I twirl around, trying to locate the source of the ringing noise. I rarely ever use my phone, and only a handful of people even have the number, so it has a bad habit of getting lost on a daily basis. I hop over another large box, squeeze through a heaping tower of taped-up bankers boxes, and push aside a pile of overstuffed black trash bags, following the noise. At the last 2 JADE WEBB ring, I locate my phone sticking out of the purse I’d haphaz‐ ardly tossed onto the floor earlier. I pick up the phone and instinctively let out a groan as I recognize my father’s office number among my missed calls. I feel my stomach clench in anticipation. Lawrence Monroe, the billionaire CEO of Monroe Industries, never calls. Communication, of any kind, is not my family’s greatest strength. Thankfully most Monroes have public-relations teams and assistants to take care of that burden. My father’s preferred medium for communicating with his progeny are two-line emails and his secretary, June. In fact, calls are reserved for only the most severe of situations: chastisement for anything related to embarrassing the family name in public, delivery of orders that immediately must be followed, and for passing along terrible news. Growing up, I never saw my father much. He was bred for work, like his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather before him. My great, great, great-grandfather, the original Lawrence Osmolt Monroe, had started a small newspaper publication in California when he was twenty-four years old. At his death, he had acquired over half the newspaper publi‐ cations in the west. His son, my great, great-grandfather, Lawrence Osmolt Monroe II, would go on to acquire the rest. Through the generations, the Monroe interests diversi‐ fied and the wealth continued grow until my father, Lawrence V, was born: a billionaire out of the womb. Right, yes, billionaire with a “B”. And before you get any ideas about me, let’s get one thing straight: if you call me an “heiress” like the tabloids love to do, or ask me about the ponies I had growing up, I will hate you forever. And you will never know it. Because like most of the sociopaths you see on shows like Criminal Minds, I keep every emotion of mine locked up like Fort Knox. Sure, I’ll smile and perhaps even laugh at your jokes about country clubs and private jets, GUARDING HER HEART 3 but I will harbor an unyielding, simmering resentment for years. I’m sure that sounds absolutely terrifying coming from me, who on my good days, with a high enough heel, can clear about five foot eight, and whose only weapons are the awesome retorts for passive-aggressive insults I craft in my head three days later, in the shower, where all my best thoughts are born. So, yeah, I’m not the most formidable person you’ve ever met. And I’m also not a sociopath, because I assume most sociopaths could not care less about the gossip that spreads about them or their family. They don’t cringe when someone jokes about the fact that you grew up with your only friends being forty-year-old Russian nannies and ex-Marine bodyguards. And sociopaths defi‐ nitely don’t spend Friday nights alone, eating ice cream out of the carton while they sob hysterically to Mansfield Park. So instead of politely biting my tongue whenever someone would offer me some thinly-veiled insult or laugh at a gossip rag mocking my family, I decided that when I went off to college, clear across the country, I would shed my previous identity and become someone new. Someone who had a “normal” life, filled with overbearing parents, curfews, and minivans. I took on my mother’s maiden name, became Gabby instead of Gabriella, and whenever asked why I never went home during school breaks, I would craft excuses about my parents being busy at work, or go on school trips to build houses in Guatemala. I never got close enough to anyone to have someone question my lame excuses, connect the dots, and realize all the little lies I had been weaving all along never amounted to much. Even if I do my best to hide who I really am, I also know there is no way I would have the opportunities I have now without my family, its connections, and its wealth. I was able to attend Georgetown University and live in an apartment off campus, grab lattes each day before class, pick up a new 4 JADE WEBB pair of shoes when I needed, all of it without ever having to check my bank account. That was not reality for ninety-nine percent of the people in the world. And as much as I would love to cue up the tiny violins and feel sorry for myself, I can’t. Because as much as I try to hide from it, I can’t deny my privilege and all the doors it has flung open for me. Staring down at the phone in my hands, I’m tempted to call my older brother, Lawrence (the VI, if you’re keeping count), or my older sister, Daphni, to see if they might be able to clue me in on why my father has decided to bestow upon me a phone call this late Thursday afternoon. I quickly rule out Lawrence, because there’s a slight chance he’s with my father and if he sees me calling, he’ll just hand the phone right over. Lawrence has taken his place within Monroe Industries as the Chief Operating Officer for North America. It’s a big role for someone barely clearing thirty, but he has been able to prove himself. And even though our dad routinely makes his life miserable, Lawrence is loyal to a fault to him, and to Monroe Industries. All three of us Monroes inherited the workaholic Monroe hustle, and Lawrence is the most insane of all of us. He requires about fours of sleep, is able to manage an entire company, and still makes it home to have dinner with his little girl each night. So yeah, while I want to call my older brother for intel, I know he has enough on his plate right now. And yet, Daphni isn’t the greatest option, either. Daphni and I are exact opposites in every way imaginable. The most glaringly obvious example? The fact that she is a world- famous singer who has two Grammys, three American Music Awards, and at least a half dozen MTV Music Awards hanging in her living room back in Calabasas. Daphni became the newest, hottest “it” girl about six years ago when she signed with MacArthur, the best music producer and label exec in the business. She became a household name GUARDING HER HEART 5 overnight. In her short career, she’s already had four sold- out international tours. She also unfortunately lives in a bubble, inside of which she is queen of all. We’d been close growing up, but the years of her touring and flying all over the world while I stuck stateside to go to college pulled us apart. Our daily phone calls turned to weekly ones, then eventually monthly ones, until they faded into infrequent texts. If I ever did a get a call from her, it was usually a mistake. She had a terribly obnoxious habit of always managing to butt dial me the night before a final exam. And, because it’s just clearing one o’clock in the afternoon in California, I automatically rule out calling my mother. She’s usually never up before two, anyways. And who even knows if she’s in the country? My mother is something of a “free spirit” and will frequently disappear for weeks on end, taking an extended cruise on a friend’s yacht or booking a month-long retreat at a spa in Aspen. These elaborate and spontaneous trips would usually be followed by an even longer respite at home, locked away in her bedroom with only her soap operas to entertain her. I also doubt that she would have any idea what my father would be calling about, seeing as I can’t even recall the last time I saw my parents in the same room together. So, after reviewing all my options, I decide to just suck it up and rip off the Band-Aid. I take a deep breath and redial my father’s number. Unsurprisingly, he answers after the first ring, forgoing any sort of formal greeting and merely uttering a gruff, “Gabriella.” “Hi, Dad. How are you?” I ask. “Have you talked with your sister?” He brusquely asks, ignoring my question. I should have known better than to bother him with formalities. I take another long breath and lean back against the door‐ frame behind me. “Not recently,” I admit. It must have been 6 JADE WEBB at least two months ago. She was on her way somewhere. Was it Shanghai? Anyway, we only talked for a few minutes before she had to rush off the phone. “She is starting her tour on Thursday. I want you to meet her in New York and join the tour.” I exhale a sharp breath before responding. “Dad, I can’t just go and join her on tour. I’m planning on taking the LSATs in September and need the summer to study.” “You can study on the tour.” His answer is sharp and authoritative—a tone I am all too familiar with. Letting out a frustrated groan, I ask, “Dad, what is going on?” Through the phone, I hear my father take a weary breath. “Gabriella, your mother died, and I am worried how Daphni will take the news. This tour is very important for her. I need you to tell her and make sure she is okay and doesn’t screw anything up.” I feel a rush of air escape my lungs. My knees give out and I fall back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. “Mom’s dead?” On the other side of the line, I hear my dad let out a soft sigh before responding. “She took a wrong combination of her vitamins. She just…took too many.” I let the weight of his words hit me. My mouth feels dry and I can feel my pulse thrashing against my neck. My mom is dead? “We are trying to keep the press out of it, but you need to tell Daphni before she finds out about it online,” he continues. It takes a minute for me to find my voice and when I do, I meekly protest, “But Dad, I…” Before I can get another word out, my father interjects. “Gabriella, I need to go, and I am not discussing this further. If you want me to foot the bill for your next three years in GUARDING HER HEART 7 law school, then you join your sister on her tour. Here, speak to your brother.” I hear my father mumble something before passing the phone to my older brother. I hear my brother take the line, and instantly start in, “Lawrence, what the hell?” “I know, Gabby. Trust me, I know. But you know how Mom was. You can’t tell me you didn’t know this was coming?” Lawrence’s voice sounds tired and strained, and I feel a pang of guilt for putting him in the middle of this. He has enough on his plate, being a single father, managing a billion-dollar company, and having to put up with Dad’s bullshit on a daily basis. And even though I am taken aback by my father’s incred‐ ibly shitty delivery of the news, Lawrence is right: I cannot deny that I am not entirely surprised. My mother’s struggles with pills and alcohol have been a closely guarded family secret for years. We had grown up watching my mother’s elaborate and convoluted prescription pill regime. Referring to her pills as her “vitamins,” our mother had always required a pomegranate Bellini to wash them down. Year after year, the number of bottles in her medicine cabinet seemed to grow. And, as her collection expanded, the mother we had known as children slowly faded away. Still, I’m shocked and devastated by the news. My mom was not perfect, but she was my mom. And now she’s gone. “Well, yeah,” I concede. “But why do I have to be the one to tell Daphni?” “Gabs, you know how she is. And she needs this tour to go well. She just had that public meltdown, and this is her last shot. She needs someone close to her to break the news. If she finds out from Dad, or online, she’ll just freak again.” Though I am still reeling from the news—and the fact that I have to completely upend my summer plans to follow 8 JADE WEBB my older sister around the country—I know my big brother, as usual, is right. “I haven’t even spoken to her in like two months, Law,” I admit, a bit ashamed of how long it’s actually been. As terrible as Daphni is at staying in touch, I also know there were many times I could have reached out too, but didn’t. “You’re her sister, Gabs. She needs you now. It’s only three months. Just go, help her through this, study for your LSATs, and celebrate that you just graduated from George‐ town freaking University. Hell, you might even have fun!” Despite my sour mood, I cannot help but feel a smile spread across my face. Lawrence always had a way of making me feel better instantly. And he was right: Daphni was on the fast track to self-destruction, and though we had drifted apart over the years, the thought of my sister ending up in the same place as my mother makes my stomach sink. “Law, you know Daphni and I have very differing ideas of what constitutes fun.” “Maybe she’ll surprise you, Gabby. I already spoke with Melissa, and she is so excited you’re coming. Daphni has been a little…difficult lately.” I let out a quiet snort. “Daphni the Diva is being difficult? This isn’t really news, Lawrence.” “Gabby, she needs you.” The sincerity in Lawrence’s voice gives me pause. When I graduated last week, I had pictured a summer of lobster rolls and studying for my LSATs beachside. Now those dreams were quickly disappearing and being replaced with images of late nights in overcrowded arenas and hordes of screaming teenage girls shattering my eardrums. Letting out another exaggerated groan, I finally relent. “All right. I’ll go.” “Oh, I know. I already emailed you everything an hour ago. I’ll have the D.C. office coordinate finishing packing up GUARDING HER HEART 9 your apartment and throwing everything in storage. I got you a train ticket to New York for tomorrow. It leaves at eleven in the morning, so make sure to get your sleep. You’re going to need it.” A bitter smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Of course, everything has already been arranged. I was not being asked: I was being ordered. I let out a defeated sigh. “Thanks, Lawrence. Good luck over there with dad.” “All right, Gabs. Keep me updated. Love you.” I hear the line click and close my ancient flip phone, before discarding it onto a pile of unpacked clothes at my feet. I fluctuate between wanting to curse and yell or punch a hole into the wall. These past four years away from my family had almost convinced me that I could live a life without the chaos that came from being a Monroe. Today was a harsh reminder that my birthright came with strings attached. I trudge over to my bed and dramatically fling myself onto the piles of neatly folded clothes. I let out a loud scream into my pillow as I beat the mattress with my fists. I haven’t seen my sister in over seven months and now, not only do I have to deliver the news that our mother has died, but I also have to follow her around the country for three months to make sure she doesn’t have another colossal mental break‐ down. The last thing I want is to throw a pity party for myself, but I can’t help but feel so frustrated. I allow myself one final scream into the pillow before rolling over to pull my laptop onto the bed. I pull up my email and find the message from Lawrence waiting, with his promised train ticket attached. Before discarding my laptop, I open my Internet browser and Google, “Daphni Monroe concert tour dates.” I groan as I scroll through my sister’s website. Beside 10 JADE WEBB giant stills from her latest music video is the full list of her thirty-city national tour. The last tour date listed is August 30th—exactly two months and twenty-eight days from today, and exactly sixteen days before my LSAT exam. Fantastic. Taking a deep breath, I close my laptop and let my head fall back onto my pillow. Squeezing my eyes closed, I force myself to take a series of deep breaths in a pathetic attempt to quell the overwhelming sea of anxiety washing over me. More than angry, I feel resigned. Locking away my frustra‐ tion, I take one final, deep breath and repeat, “I can do this. I can do this,” until everything slowly begins to fade to black and I drift off to sleep. CHAPTER TWO

am awake, showered, and dressed, with coffee in hand from the well-loved cafe down the street before my I seven o’clock alarm chimes. My intensive class schedule over the past four years usually had me up by six o’clock most mornings anyway, and my internal clock never lets me sleep in. Still, don’t confuse me for one of those peppy morning people who do ten asanas and jog for six miles before blending up a kale smoothie. I am not a morning person, and until I have my coffee, I am a completely neurotic bitch. It’s not something I’m too terribly proud of. And truthfully, I had spent most of the night thinking about my mother. There were two versions of her life: the story of the small-town choir girl who’d made it big, and then the true story. Through fragmented stories and quiet investigations, I was able to piece together the truth about the woman behind the pleasant and carefully manicured façade she’d always shown the rest of the world. The life I had managed to deduce was nothing like the one she presented to the maga‐ 12 JADE WEBB zines—one of a young woman born and raised in a good Christian home outside Nashville, who’d been discovered in a local talent show and brought to Hollywood to be the star she was born to be. My version started when my sixteen-year-old mother escaped her Oklahoma trailer park by following an abusive boyfriend to Nashville, where he was convinced he would become the next Johnny Cash. After too many failures and far too many bruises, my mother fled, and supported herself by singing and dancing in an Arizona strip club called “The Thorny Cactus.” There, she captured the attention of a talent agent on vacation. He worked for a large record label in Los Angeles, and when he saw my mother’s long, blonde hair, gleaming emerald eyes, and other ample assets, he brought her back with him. Luckily for him, she could also carry a tune. Even though he was a married man, my mother and the talent agent carried on an affair for a few years. Under his tutelage, she transformed from Jessie Lee Danforth to Jessica Banks. Though he helped give her a career that had her touring a bit throughout the country, he was primarily fasci‐ nated by her “off-stage” charisma. In fact, it was her looks that first captured my father’s attention. Back before he was a focused businessman with a secretary who scheduled forty-five minutes of “recreational” time with his children weekly, he had been a spoiled, carefree playboy with a new woman on his arm each week. That was, however, until he met my mother. Though she was techni‐ cally still dating her agent, they began a whirlwind romance that resulted in a surprise pregnancy. My grandmother was horrified, of course, and insisted that the two marry immedi‐ ately. It was obvious they weren’t in love, but my grand‐ mother wanted my father to settle down, and my mother GUARDING HER HEART 13 wanted stability. Thus, a marriage—and a business arrange‐ ment—was born. Though they were legally bound in holy matrimony, my father had a terrible wandering eye. I would never say it out loud, but deep down I believe knowing this had broken my mother’s heart. I’d be lying if I said my father’s enormous assets didn’t play a significant role in her love for him, but a part of her always remained that hopeless little girl, stuck in a trailer somewhere in Oklahoma, waiting for her prince to come. My mother, however, was far too proud to ever leave, so she kept up the charade of a happy marriage. Witnessing my parents’ misery had only helped convince me to completely forgo the whole institution of marriage. Our family history was riddled with failed marriages, poisoned by simmering resentment and animosity that slowly and painfully ate away at once-happy unions. I used to be in denial myself, convinced that the mistakes of my parents, and theirs before them, would never impact me. But then I saw how Lawrence’s failed love life had left him a single parent to an incredible girl whose mother never visited, and Daphni sabotaged the one relation‐ ship that actually made her happy in favor of dating idiots who treated her terribly. It turns out we weren’t immune after all, and if there was one lesson I had learned above all, it was that falling in love was never worth the risk of heartbreak. And with that depressing thought, I quickly run a brush through my thick, damp waves and gather my toiletries, throwing them into my suitcase. They easily fit into my carry-on, along with the clothes I had thrown in earlier. Growing up, I had been quickly initiated into the strenuous lifestyle of constant travel and touring. I had learned the art of condensing my entire life into a carry-on and, more importantly, learned never to get too attached to anything 14 JADE WEBB that could get lost in the chaotic shuffle of staying in a new city every night. At first, I found the celebrity and touring life exciting and glamorous, but eventually it lost its luster. It was hard not to be turned off by all the sycophants and the back‐ stabbing nature of the business. Much to my mother’s chagrin, I had chosen school and my books over the chaotic and tumultuous celebrity life. My mother’s heart truly broke when she would catch me secretly reading the latest issue of TIME, covertly nestled in between the pages of a People magazine. As I grew older, I began to more confidently assert my desire to educate myself and go to college. Rather than deter my mother, it only seemed to make her even more determined to convert me into a celebrity clone of herself. And since I couldn’t sing, was a terrible actress, and had no other discernible marketable talent, she decided to turn me into a model. For instance, exhibit A: When I was fifteen, my mother had falsely lured me to a modeling casting call with the promise of a trip to the National History Museum. Instead of exploring Paleolithic dinosaur bones, I had been forced to strut around in a grotesque bathing suit while a table full of walky old men made marks on their clipboards. That singular experience scarred me, and I hadn’t spoken to my mother for a whole week, which of course, she had not even noticed. Only when she finally realized that I wasn’t growing past five foot five did she finally concede defeat and focus all her energy on Daphni, ascending to her rightful place as Daphni’s full-time momager. Though Daphni would ferociously deny it, her catapult to fame was thanks, in large part, to our family name. The Monroe name carried a lot of clout, and many were only too eager to have the Monroes owe them a favor. Despite the power of our family name, I still can’t deny that Daphni is incredibly talented. Though she records the most ridiculous, GUARDING HER HEART 15 overproduced pop tracks, if you strip down her music, you realize that her voice is melodic, layered, and hauntingly beautiful. It’s the same voice that lulled me to sleep each night, and performed sold-out performances for our Beanie Baby audience. Her voice feels like home to me. It also obviously helps that Daphni has always been the more outgoing and sociable of us. That, and the fact that she is absolutely gorgeous. With her beautiful blonde hair (that she always dyes these intense, bright colors—I believe she is currently rocking Barney purple), stunning, clear, pale skin with an adorable sprinkle of freckles that she always insists on covering, and a gorgeous figure carved by years of danc‐ ing, she’s easily landed on every top-ten-sexiest list for the past six years. The only feature that hints at our shared DNA is our emerald-green eyes. Lawrence has them, too; they’re one of the few things we all have that tie us together. Even with all her millions of albums sold and worldwide popularity, Daphni is in a tough spot. Lately, her luck has not been so great. All of us know that this is more than just a tour for Daphni. This is her last chance to salvage her repu‐ tation after a slew of nasty online rumors and embarrassing paparazzi pictures led her to having a very humiliating drunken meltdown outside of a Los Angeles club one night. Even now, as I remember it, I can’t help but cringe. The pictures had been terrible: Daphni stumbling out of the club and vomiting on a photographer’s shoes before grabbing a golf club and shattering a glass table, then passing out in a nearby bush. After that incident, Daphni’s PR team had gone into over‐ drive. They had shipped her off to a private villa in Bora Bora with a recording team, giving her three months to record her new album while they worked on repairing her image stateside. The tour is the launch of a carefully constructed rebrand of Daphni as the iconic American pop 16 JADE WEBB princess. The last thing anyone wants is for her to go completely postal and irreparably tarnish both the Monroe name and her entire brand. I had worked very hard to make sure I avoided any of the fallout. I kept my head down at school, making sure to avoid social media and keep myself out of trouble. I also always made a point to befriend the international exchange students, knowing that those friendships always had an expi‐ ration date and they were far less likely to recognize me. Truthfully, it often led to lonely nights and weekend binges of Lifetime movies, but it was a small sacrifice to make to protect my privacy. I saw how that lifestyle had destroyed my mother, then my sister. I wanted a different life for myself. Which is why I need to play the role of the dutiful daughter, keep Daphni out of trouble, and collect my tuition check for law school so I can finally start working and no longer have to depend on my family. I shoot a quick glance over at the clock on my nightstand. It’s only eight in the morning and I am already feeling rest‐ less. There is no way I can loiter around here for another two hours without going mental. Reaching for my laptop, I look up the Amtrak times for trains heading into New York. I make a quick decision to take an earlier train that will have me in the city by one o’clock. Once I get into the city, I can check into the hotel, dump my things, and try and catch Daphni at her sound check. Though I’m not planning on breaking the news to her right before the first concert of her tour, I know I need to tell her at some point tonight. I am racing against the 24-hour paparazzi news cycle, and I know time is not exactly on my side here. I also want to try and arrive early so I can get a better idea of where my sister is, emotionally. Unlike Lawrence and myself, Daphni didn’t inherit the family gene of tactfully locking away painful emotions and hiding behind carefully GUARDING HER HEART 17 plastered smiles. As she would always say, she was an “artist” and as such, prone to dramatics and meltdowns. With a few quick clicks, I reserve a new ticket then toss my laptop into my shoulder bag before grabbing my suitcase and walking to the front door. As I stand in the doorway, I can’t help but take one final look at the microscopic studio apartment that had been my home these past four years. I’d hidden myself away in the self-imposed bubble of these four walls. And though I hated to play the “poor, little rich girl” card, the burden of my family had forced me to retreat into a small shell of a world. My family’s wealth and access undeni‐ ably opened so many doors for me, but it also forced me to forge barricades around my life that made it incredibly lonely. And even though I am caught in a long moment of melancholy, I can’t help but chuckle at the irony of me lamenting my four years of self-imposed exile when I am going to be spending the next three months on tour with arguably the biggest celebrity on the planet, with nonstop cameras, trailing assistants, and hordes of groupies. From hermit to glorified groupie in five minutes flat. CHAPTER THREE

soft push abruptly wakes me up. Blinking my eyes as I come to, I turn to see the train attendant A patiently standing at my side. “Miss, we are at Penn Station. Last stop.” I nod and mumble a quick thank you before picking up my bag and pulling my suitcase out from the seat beneath me. How I had fallen asleep, I have absolutely no idea. My plan had been to spend the three-hour train ride devising the perfect way to break the news to Daphni, but somehow, I had passed out instead. Very productive, Gabby. I push my way through the thick crowd until I reach the bright light of the outdoors. Hailing a cab at the curb, I direct the driver to the Gramercy Park Hotel, where Melissa has reserved a last-minute room for me. Once I arrive, I check in under the name Lawrence had given me in his email. I was now an official member of the Olivia Benson party. I rolled my eyes when I read that, though I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Daphni is obsessed with crime dramas, above all every one of the Law and Order franchises. She is still the only person I know who GUARDING HER HEART 19 was disappointed when Law and Order: Los Angeles was canceled after only one season. Once I reach my suite, I collapse onto the plush, king- sized bed and pop the chocolate resting on the pillow in my mouth. A note on the nightstand catches my eye and a smile springs to my lips as I immediately recognize the neat, cursive handwriting. Melissa, my sister’s unflaggingly loyal assistant for the past eight years, has also been the faithful scribe behind all my birthday and holiday cards (though she always makes Daphni sign them).

Gabby, Welcome to NYC! I am so excited to have you join us on the tour. I have missed our late-night chats over craft service. Please relax once you get in, I am sure you must be exhausted! We will all be at sound check and the concert starts at 7 p.m. Your sister goes on at 8 p.m. I left you a backstage pass. Please try and make it tonight—it will mean so much to your sister. She has no idea you will be joining us on tour! Xoxo, Melissa

I can’t help but feel a comforting warmth as I read through the note, sensing Melissa’s sincere excitement. It’s only two o’clock, so I have a few hours to kill before the show tonight. Knowing my sister’s schedule, she is likely clocking in one last sound check before her show. If I head over now, I might be able to grab a few minutes alone with Daphni and assess how she’s doing before I have to break the news tonight. It would be helpful to see how she’s feeling, so 20 JADE WEBB

I can try to anticipate how to best prepare myself, and everyone around her, for the inevitable fallout. I unzip my suitcase and dig through, looking for some‐ thing lighter to wear. I had forgotten how hot New York City gets in the summer. I eagerly kick off my jeans and pull on a pair of dark denim shorts. I keep my trusty high-top Chuck Taylors on, but trade my chambray blouse for a loose, off- the-shoulder black lace shirt. It’s casual enough for today, and should be appropriate enough for the show tonight. It is also an outfit guaranteed to keep me out of any of the VIP clubs Daphni likes to frequent, giving me a convenient excuse to avoid tagging along with the rest of Daphni’s entourage tonight after the show. Throwing my hair into a high ponytail, I pop into the bathroom and splash some water on my face. I catch my reflection as I pat my skin dry and pull at the corners of my eyes. I can still see the outlines of the dark circles under my eyes—battle scars from the hell week of finals. Though I admittedly look exhausted, my eyes are still my favorite feature. I like how they tie me to my siblings and how, when there’s just the right amount of light, you can find the tiniest specks of gold. I blow out a huff of air as I tug at the end of my ponytail again. A sudden wave of queasiness overcomes me, and I realize I am really nervous about seeing Daphni again. Being around my older sister always seems to bring back every insecurity I have. Daphni is a magnet, a star who always had center stage. She thrived under the limelight. Me? I was happier in the background, painting the sets. After all, life was safer tucked away in the shadows: the less anyone knew about you, the less they could hurt you. CHAPTER FOUR

he weather outside is far too tempting, and I make a snap decision to walk the short distance to the T arena. Also far too tempting is the Shake Shack a few feet away, so I order a burger and fries with a milkshake that I inhale as I continue to walk through the park. I know I’m nervous, and with each step I take, I can feel the knot in my stomach tighten. At least eating my bodyweight in French fries helps to replace that knot with mere general nausea. I make my way over to the side entrance on 31st Street, managing to avoid the throngs of fans already collecting outside. They are Daphni’s most hardcore fanbase: teenage girls. Dressed up in halter tops and teetering like newborn gazelles in six-inch stiletto heels, they look so hopeful that they might catch even a glimpse of Daphni. Poor girls. I wonder if they would still be as dedicated to her if they knew she once drank an entire bottle of Ex-Lax on a dare and spent the next three days crying her eyes out, clutching the toilet and begging for God to “just take her now.” I’m pretty 22 JADE WEBB sure Lawrence still has a photo of that somewhere. I should ask him to dig that up for me. Early Christmas present. I flash my backstage pass and dart inside. Once inside, a feeling of overwhelming nostalgia hits me. Most of my child‐ hood was spent amidst the chaos of life on the road, traveling from one arena to the next. Some of my best memories are of the times I would perch myself high up on speaker sets and luggage carts and watch the chaos unfold around me. The feeling of invisibility as I was swallowed by the commotion around me had been oddly comforting. And as I meander down the long corridor, dodging moving carts and personal assistants who can’t be bothered to look up from their cell‐ phones, a part of me wants to be that little girl again, to find a place to hide amongst the chaos. But, I’m not a little girl anymore. I am 21 years old, and I need to put on my big-girl pants and go find my sister. With a more determined clip, I weave my way down the narrow halls and find my way to the main stage, where the unmistakable sound of Daphni’s latest song, “Push Back” is blaring. Though I would definitely never identify myself as a “Daphinator,” or a Daphni super fan, I always made sure to buy all her songs on iTunes, and had even paid the $9.99 to be added to her monthly mailing list (though I would never admit either of those things to her face). Thanks to her news‐ letter, I had learned that “Push Back” was the first single off her new album, and was about being in love and wanting your lover to “push you back.” Whatever that meant. I trot down the long aisles, searching for Daphni amongst the maze of all her backup dancers and production crew. My eyes find her instantly thanks to her bright, fluorescent-blue hair. The last time I had seen her pictures, she had been rocking a purple weave, so I can only assume she is debuting this new look tonight. With a pink, bedazzled microphone in one hand, she GUARDING HER HEART 23 dances along to the fast-paced beat of the track, her hips rocking in tandem with the thumping bass. As the track speeds up, a group of four shirtless men approach her, hoisting her up over their heads and spinning her around in circles as she continues to belt out the lyrics. As the dancers bring her feet down to the ground, her heel catches on something and she trips and falls forward, dropping her mic and producing a loud static sound that reverberates through the arena. I clutch my ears at the deaf‐ ening sound and cringe as I watch Daphni spill out a slew of expletives to the group of dancers, her arms waving furi‐ ously. I can’t help but audibly groan as I watch the interac‐ tion; it looks like Daphni is still living up to her diva reputation. Just then, I catch Melissa rushing over. Her bright red hair is piled high on her head and she has a clipboard tucked under her arm. She has a huge grin on her face as she rushes toward me. Melissa is one of the easiest people to love, and I had always wondered how someone so kind and genuine lasted so long in this industry, especially with my sister. As she reaches me, Melissa drops her clipboard so she can pull me into a hug. She squeezes me for another few seconds, and I can feel her body vibrating with excitement. “I am so happy to see you, Gabby,” she squeaks out when she finally lets me out of her embrace. I can’t help but return her excitement as I squeeze Melis‐ sa’s hand. “Me, too.” I gesture to my sister on stage. “How is she?” The smile quickly fades from Melissa’s face and she leans in, whispering, “Truth is, she’s not doing so great. I am really glad you are here. She misses you.” I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Melissa reaches for my arm, her lips drawn tightly. “No, I’m serious, Gabby,” she insists. “She needs you. This tour has 24 JADE WEBB been so stressful for her, and she has that idiot, Drizzle, who takes her out every night to party. She needs you.” At the mention of Daphni’s boyfriend, I let out a loud groan. “Drizzle? I thought they had broken up?” Melissa shakes her head somberly. “No, that little leech is back. I can’t understand what she sees in him!” I nod sympathetically. Drizzle is a “rapper” whose most clever lyric has been to rhyme “sneaker” with “teacher.” Born Seth Moskowitz, he is a loser trust-fund baby who only managed to make a record thanks to the fact that his dad owns the record label. Melissa glances back at the stage, where Daphni is continuing her temper tantrum. “I should really go help out with that.” She waves over a young girl with pin-straight blonde hair and impressive posture. “Bella, can you take Gabby to Daphni’s dressing room?” Turning back to face me, she pats my arm reassuringly. “Hang out and relax there. Once sound check is over, I’ll bring Daphni in. She will be so excited to see you!” Melissa gives me a final, quick kiss on the cheek, then jogs back to the stage to help calm down a now-screeching Daphni. I let out a quiet sigh and shake my head as I watch Melissa work her magic. I am not envious of her job. I follow Bella through the winding hallways backstage until we arrive at Daphni’s dressing room. Before letting me inside, Bella darts away, eager to return to the sound check. Once inside, I flick on the lights and toss my bag and back‐ stage pass onto the white leather sectional. I’m ready to sneak in a quick study session when I catch the clothing rack prepped with Daphni’s outfits for the show waiting in the center of the room. I take a nervous look over my shoulder at the closed door before slowly walking over and running my fingers along the different garments. There are ten outfits altogether, each one GUARDING HER HEART 25 more elaborate than the next. My fingers stop at a short, red- sequined dress with cutouts that dip scandalously low on each side. With another quick glance over my shoulder, I tentatively pick up the gown and walk over to the full-length mirror. I make a pouty face, my best—albeit still pretty pathetic—attempt at looking sexy, as I hold the dress against me. Spotting a hairbrush on the vanity, I grab it to use as a makeshift mic and practice my best Daphni impersonation. Even as I laugh at how ridiculous I look, I still can’t help but feel a bit envious of my sister. How was it fair that she had inherited all the confidence in our family? Couldn’t she have left even an ounce of it for me? The sound of the door opening behind me sends a shiver of fear down my spine. I drop the hairbrush and fumble to hang the dress back with the others on the clothing rack. I step backward and let out a loud gasp as I feel a hard, thick wall hit me from behind. Turning slowly, I take a nervous step back, sweeping my eyes up and down the giant man looming in front of me. I feel my breath catch as I take him in. He easily towers over me, and is definitely over six feet tall. His body is liter‐ ally radiating heat, and a quick glance up to his face reveals that it is not the good kind: he looks pissed. His eyes are narrowed into an intimidating glare, and his brow is deeply furrowed as his steel-grey eyes pin me in my place. We stare at each other for a few long moments, neither one of us uttering a word. His eyes flicker up and down my body and I swear I can feel my skin scorch under his assessment. I am so overwhelmed by his presence that I take another staggering step backward. My tactic doesn’t work and only seems to annoy him further. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” His voice is loud, authoritative, and surprisingly, unmistakably Scottish. Although I try to fight it, my mind instantly travels to my 26 JADE WEBB secret stash of Scottish highlander romance novels I read when I need to unwind after a long day. God, this guy would look fucking amazing in a kilt. At that thought, I feel heat instantly rush to my cheeks. God, why am I so awkward? Just calmly explain who you are and send him on his merry way. I open my mouth and inwardly cringe at how high-pitched and mousy I sound. “I- I’m here to see Daphni.” He stares at me blankly, his eyes narrowing even more in annoyance. “My sister,” I clarify, my voice a bit more even. He rolls his eyes at me and swears under his breath. “Great,” he mutters, “Another crazy fan.” I open my mouth to protest, but before I can utter a single word, I feel his arms on my waist as he grabs me and hoists me over his shoulder. Temporarily stunned into silence, I let him carry me for a few feet. The smell of his cologne—a citrus and amber combination—overwhelms my senses and sends a shot of hot warmth directly to my core, apparently striking me mute. Only after he carries me out the door do my damn senses finally return and I kick my legs and punch my arms against his back. “Put me down, damnit!” I screech as he carries me into the hallway. I wince at the stream of horrified faces watching us, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment. As he makes his way down the hall and toward the exit, I hear Melissa’s frantic voice crying out. “Liam! No! Put Gabby down!” As he slides me back down to the floor, his hands grip‐ ping my waist, he pauses for the briefest moment when my chest meets his. And in that stolen moment, I swear I can feel his heart pulsing at the same time mine beats furiously against my own chest. And for this instant, less than half a second, it’s as if this overwhelming, deafening silence surrounds us and both our hearts momentarily…freeze. Our GUARDING HER HEART 27 eyes lock and a spark of recognition flickers between us. And just as quickly as it happens, it passes, and I feel my feet hit the floor. I force myself to ignore that unsettling moment between us; I conclude it was all in my head, a chemical imbalance from being thrown over a stranger’s shoulder, and nothing more. Now back on solid ground, I force myself to gather my wits. I prop my hands on my hips in a combination of both indignation and sheer embarrassment at being manhandled by this Neanderthal and jab my finger into his hard chest. “Who do you think you are?!” Melissa finally reaches us and pulls me away from the man staring down at me. To my annoyance, my little outburst seems to amuse him and his dark-grey eyes twinkle with a hint of enjoyment. “Gabby, I am so sorry,” Melissa explains. “I wasn’t expecting you till later this afternoon, and I haven’t had a chance yet to let Liam know you would be joining us.” I whip around to face him again. Liam. I narrow my eyes at him menacingly, which only seems to amuse him further, as the corners of his lips draw into a smirk. I roll my eyes and turn back to Melissa with a questioning look on my face. “Liam is your sister’s head of security,” she continues to explain. “He’s joining us for the tour.” “What happened to Jerry?” Jerry has been my sister’s head of security since she broke into the business as a young teen. Daphni’s looks had always attracted an unusually creepy fan base of older men who lived in their mothers’ basements and sent disgusting anony‐ mous letters. Jerry had been like a surrogate father to both of us, and especially Daphni. As Daphni’s fame increased, the security team had also grown, but Jerry had always remained a constant. A dark shadow crosses Melissa’s face and she shifts 28 JADE WEBB uncomfortably. “Um, Daphni fired him after he punched Drizzle.” “What?” I blurt out in surprise. Sighing, Melissa explains, “Drizzle was drunk and just being his normal, asshole self. Jerry got fed up and punched him. Drizzle demanded that your sister fire him and she did.” Glancing over at Liam, apparently my sister’s new body‐ guard, I shake my head in disappointment. “So, what? Now we’re stuck with this caveman?” Melissa shoots Liam an apologetic smile before answer‐ ing, “Liam is one of the good ones, Gabs. He just left the Marines and was trained on high-level tactical surveillance. He is here to protect Daphni, and you, Gabby.” “Yes, he has clearly demonstrated that skillset,” I add sarcastically. “Mel, I don’t need some bodyguard following me everywhere.” I turn around to offer him another glare, which only makes him grin more. Frustrated, I blow out a huff of air. “Anyway, doesn’t he have a pot of gold to watch after?” I hear him snicker behind me and my cheeks heat with indignation. I was trying to insult him, not make him laugh! “I’m Scottish, lass, not Irish. We don’t sit on rainbows and guard pots o’ gold. We wear kilts and ravish ladies,” Liam shoots back, in an obviously exaggerated brogue. I feel my cheeks burn to an impossible new degree and glare at Melissa, who is choking back a laugh. She holds her hands up, laying her right hand over her left in a gesture for a “time out.” “Okay, you two kids play nice. I need to head back. Sound check is almost over and then I’ll be back with Daphni.” I give her an innocent smile as she turns to walk away, then turn on my heel, glaring at Liam as I head back into my sister’s dressing room, slamming the door behind me. CHAPTER FIVE

uck. Fuck. Fuck. I rake my fingers through my hair as I pace the F linoleum floors outside of Daphni’s dressing room. The hallway is abuzz with everyone scrambling to finish the last-minute details for the show, but as I walk aimlessly back and forth, the crowd breaks apart to avoid colliding with my lumbering frame. Though she’s just slammed the door quite literally in my face, I feel my body tugging to follow her inside and finish whatever it is we've started. Not just this verbal sparring that has been completely enthralling, but there’s something else. Something electric and purely physical. She had felt it, too. That I am sure of. When our eyes locked for that split second, I know she had sensed whatever it was that had happened—that nanosecond when our hearts had stopped beating, as if they were communicating in some entirely different language all their own. But that is fucking impossible, I remind myself. Especially with the little sister of my bloody boss. When I caught her in Daphni’s dressing room, hiding 30 JADE WEBB behind that clothing rack, I could feel the blood rush through my body. With that red dress in her hands, she had looked like the perfect, intoxicating combination of a guilty minx and innocent angel. Though my first instinct should have been to calmly question her, I had instead scared the shit out of her, grabbed her like she was a piece of luggage, and thrown her over my shoulder. She had called me a caveman. And rightly so, I have to admit. I had never carried a woman like that. And then to do it to the little sister of my employer? What the fuck had I been thinking? That was the problem right there. I hadn’t been thinking. At least not with my head. Thinking with my dick? Yeah, that was likely the case. That would definitely explain why my first thought when I caught her hiding was to devise a way to get my hands on her. She was fucking gorgeous. Long, brown hair, smooth golden skin, and fucking striking emerald eyes. When my eyes locked on her beautiful green ones, it had forced all the air out of my lungs. They had stared up at me, a mix of confusion and fear swirling in them. But there had been something else there, too. Had it been desire? I couldn’t have been the only one who felt that, right? Fuck. I force myself to stop pacing and lean against the wall. Melissa had briefed me last night that Daphni’s younger sister would be joining us on the tour. We were expecting her to arrive later this afternoon, but I still should have real‐ ized that the girl in the dressing room was her sister. I had been picturing a blonde replica of Daphni, not this gorgeous brunette. How the hell were these two even related? Great. One week on the job and I already manhandled my client’s little sister. Fanfuckingtastic. A commotion erupts down the hall and I catch a crowd of people coming down the hallway. The unmistakable blue GUARDING HER HEART 31 hair lets me know Daphni is on her way. I force myself to stand upright and push open the door to the dressing room. I walk inside and my eyes instantly find Gabby. She is sitting on the couch, her feet tucked underneath her, with a book the size of a small toddler perched on her lap. Her head is bowed down and a pair of thick, black frames sit on the bridge of her nose. She looks lost in the book and when she sees me enter the room, her face contorts into this adorable scowl. I bite my tongue to force myself to not smile. Daphni ignores me as she breezes into the room. Her idiot boyfriend is by her side, and it sounds like they’re arguing about something. Not that that’s news. Even though I have only been working with Daphni for a month, it’s obvious that Daphni and Drizzle’s dysfunctional relationship is a shrink’s wet dream. They will go from throwing flower vases at each other to sticking their tongues down each other’s throats in ten minutes flat. It’s as terrifying as it is fascinating to watch. Daphni flings herself down into the chair in front of the vanity. Only then does she catch Gabby’s reflection in the mirror. A genuine smile instantly crosses her face, and she whips her head around to face her sister sitting on the couch. “Gabby!” She shrieks, her voice obliterating my ear drum. She jumps out of her seat and tackles her sister on the couch. I watch, amused, as the two sisters greet each other. Daphni is undeniably the more outgoing of the two. She peppers her sister in kisses, smearing her purple lipstick all over Gabby’s face. “You have to tell me everything! Don’t leave anything out!” Daphni commands as she sits on the couch next to her sister. Gabby shifts uncomfortably as her eyes dart around the room. Between Daphni’s entourage, her makeup team, her hairdressers, and Drizzle, a small audience has amassed. I can 32 JADE WEBB feel the panic and discomfort radiating off Gabby, and I look around the room to see if anyone else is noticing it. It seems as if they are all either ignoring it, or they just don’t care. Taking a quick breath, Gabby gestures to the book on her lap. “Well, you know, I’m studying for the LSATs. I’m hoping to be ready by the end of…” “Oh, God, Gabby. Do you think of anything else besides school?” Daphni asks, cutting her sister off. I catch how Gabby’s shoulders tense. “Well, school’s important to me.” Daphni laughs as she picks at her nails. “Gabby, you’ve been going to school forever. Don’t you want to take some time off?” “Well, considering I just graduated, I’m expecting to take some time off before I start law school.” A wave of guilt washes over Daphni’s face. “Congrats, babe. Sorry I missed it. You know I would have gone if I could have. Did Mom and Dad go?” I’m surprised to see Gabby shake her head. “Just Lawrence and Isabel. Dad had to be in Tokyo and Mom wasn’t feeling up to traveling.” I try not to, but I can’t help but judge. What kind of parents don’t make it to their daughter’s graduation? Daphni’s face brightens. “Well, then you can’t be mad at me if they didn’t go either!” From my spot in the room, I can easily see how tense Gabby is sitting with her sister. It’s like she is holding some‐ thing in and is using every muscle in her body to prevent it from escaping. Not that her sister would give her even five minutes to talk. With Gabby playing with her fingers in her lap, Daphni continues babbling on about some new song she wrote with Drizzle about falling in love in a dance club. I’ve already heard the song more times than I would like to admit. It’s fucking ridiculous and every time I hear it, I GUARDING HER HEART 33 imagine that the only thing worse than listening to it again would be getting my dick torn off by sharks. At the mention of the song, Daphni’s shit-eating boyfriend sidles up to her on the couch and drapes his arm possessively over Daphni’s shoulder. The guy is an absolute idiot, and it’s hard for me to mask my annoyance with him. Stealing another glance at Gabby, I can see it is equally diffi‐ cult for her. “Hi Drizzle,” Gabby says, with a strained smile on her face. It’s the same one she gave Melissa earlier, and I can tell it’s a practiced one. “Damn, girl. You looking good!” Drizzle exclaims as his greedy eyes roam up and down her body. I almost catch a flicker of disgust cross Gabby’s face, but as quickly as I see it, it’s disappeared, that same, tight-lipped, practiced smile in its place. “Thanks,” she responds curtly. Melissa chooses that moment to walk into the room. She glances around, able to sense the awkward tension in the air. “Daphni, we need to get you prepped for hair and makeup.” Daphni nods and shrugs out of Drizzle’s embrace before sauntering over to fall into the seat in front of the large porcelain vanity. As soon as she is seated, two women swoop in behind her, one tackling her hair and the other spackling on the ten layers of makeup she has to wear. Daphni turns in her seat and her hairstylist narrowly misses burning her with a curling iron. “Oh, Gabs, I almost forgot to tell you! We are going to the sickest club tonight after the show. Super exclusive, and we have the whole VIP section to ourselves.” She turns her attention over to Melissa, who is furiously texting on her phone. “Mel! You need to get Gabby some‐ thing to wear tonight.” I watch with mild amusement as the color drains from 34 JADE WEBB

Gabby’s face. As Gabby opens her mouth to object, Daphni shoots her a warning glare, prompting Gabby to snap her mouth closed, sealing her lips tightly. “Fine, I’ll go,” Gabby relents. “But I can dress myself.” Daphni lets out an audible sigh. “Oh God, Gabby. We are going to Tangiers.” She over-pronounces the name of the club, dragging out each letter. “You cannot go wearing that.” Gabby’s shoulders slump down, defeated. I bite back a smirk as I watch her looking dejectedly at the book on her lap. I can sense her disappointment, and find it fucking adorable how sad she looks that she can’t spend her Friday night with her massive fucking book. “So, we’re good, Liam?” At the mention of my name, I tear my eyes away from Gabby and see Melissa looking over at me, a questioning look on her face. “Eh?” She sighs. “The club, Liam. Are we all set for the club tonight?” I shake myself out of the trance and nod my head. “All set. We arrive at midnight. Front entrance will have the red carpet. We have VIP lounge secured and we will be bringing extra security just in case.” Melissa nods. “Great. I need to run. Do me a favor and make sure Gabby gets a bite to eat before the show?” Before I can object, she is darting out the door, catching one of the crew to issue a last-minute request. My eyes search the room for Gabby, but I can’t find her. I mutter a curse under my breath as I stride to the door of the dressing room and thrust it open. The crush of people around me is overwhelming, and even though I tower over most of them, somehow that beautiful, disappointed, and fucking beguiling brunette has disappeared. CHAPTER SIX

load up my plate high with mini tacos and sliders before momentarily debating if I should get a second I plate. Though I ate a few hours ago, my college-student instincts are still strong, and the lure of free food is a powerful one. Besides, I have a tendency to get nasty when I’m hungry, so feeding myself is really public service. I am feeling even more on edge than usual. I attribute it mostly to the fact that in a few short hours, I am responsible for telling my sister that our mother is dead, and for ensuring that she doesn’t have a complete meltdown, so I can go to law school and finally escape the ever-looming shadow of my family’s legacy. I’m sure it would damper even the best of moods. Still, I can’t help but feel that something else is nagging at me. As much as I want to deny it, I’m still upset about being manhandled like yesterday’s trash by my sister’s stupid body‐ guard. It was bad enough that Jerry was gone, but then to have him replaced by some Scottish brute? And not only had he completely thrown me around, but he had the nerve to make fun of me, too? Of course, I knew the difference 36 JADE WEBB between Irish and Scottish. It’s just that when his penetrating grey eyes were locked on mine, it was a bit fucking hard to focus. His eyes are just so…intense. God, why did I let him get under my skin? He was obvi‐ ously doing his job, and if I hadn’t acted like some idiotic, stammering mute, maybe he wouldn’t have felt the need to carry me out of that room kicking and screaming. At the memory of him effortlessly picking me up, a warm blush creeps up my cheeks. God, what was it about men being able to pick us women up that caused our ovaries to melt like that? It must be some lingering biological glitch. Or maybe it was the fact that in his grasp, I was able to sneak a touch of his massive arms and imagine the terrible, dirty things he could do to me with those mini tree trunks. Egh, not that I would know. At twenty-one, I was a unicorn: a virgin by choice, and not because I wanted to wait until marriage or save myself for Jesus. Rather, my celibacy was one of the ways I kept people at bay. I had tried hard last summer to secure myself a one-night stand and ditch the V- card once and for all. I did the research, got myself a Tinder account, and made sure to stash my purse with a variety of condoms in different sizes. I had every logistical contingency planned for. When I had finally made it to the guy’s bed and saw the poster of my sister, wearing a hot-pink bikini that matched the streaks of pink in her blonde hair, hanging on his wall, I decided there was no way I could lose my virginity with my older, half-naked sister watching me. I made up an excuse and ran, deciding it was an omen that I was simply meant to be a virgin forever. Luckily, God had invented vibrators, so my suffering was minimal. I plop down into an empty seat at a long table. Since the show is set to start soon, craft service is a ghost town. I instantly regret not bringing my book along so I could study. When I had seen Liam distracted with Melissa, I had taken GUARDING HER HEART 37 the opportunity to sneak out. While in the room, I could feel his eyes on me at all times. It was a disquieting feeling. Even when I wasn’t looking at him, his presence overwhelmed me. How was I going to spend the next three months with this guy? And why was I so hung up on him? I did not get hung up on men. My only celebrity crushes were Joe Biden and Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I stab my fork into the spaghetti on my plate, twirling it in endless circles. Studying, Gabby. Just focus on studying, I command myself, as I pull my thoughts away from Liam and work out a tentative study schedule in my head. My professor had recommended studying at least four hours a day. If I can get it done in the morning, I can spend the after‐ noons taking practice tests. What I needed to figure out was which section I should start on. I really need to strengthen my logic and reasoning… My thoughts get interrupted when a large shadow crosses over my table. I drag my eyes up, but my body can already sense who it is. Liam. I can’t help but feel my face pull into a scowl. “Can I help you, sir?” I bite out, surprised at how bitchy my tone is. I am never bitchy. Well, that’s not technically true. I am pretty much always bitchy in my head, but never out loud. For a second, I consider apologizing for my tone, but then decide against it when I remember how humiliated I had felt earlier. An amused smile pulls at his lips at my formal greeting. He arches his brow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Sir?” he asks, and I swear his husky Scottish brogue is literally making my skin heat. How can one freaking word cause my body to react like this? I fight the heat pooling in my center and force my eyes back to my plate, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious about the mess of food stacked high. 38 JADE WEBB

Liam pulls out the chair across from me and sits down. It’s almost comical how ridiculous he looks sitting in such a small chair. I take advantage of the moment to steal another glance at him, instantly regretting it the moment I do. He is frighteningly handsome. His strong, angular jaw is covered in a dusting of dark stubble. While I assume it would make most men look messy, like they hadn’t showered in a few days, it just makes Liam even more obnoxiously sexy. His thick arms are crossed against his chest, and his corded muscles ripple with every movement. He looks like he was crafted from every single forbidden fantasy I’ve had, late at night, with my trusty vibrator in hand. Never in my life had I come across a man who was so…masculine. I seriously doubt Liam has ever owned a pair of salmon-colored shorts with whales on them. God, why did that thought make me so excited? His dark-grey eyes catch mine watching him, and I can see a dangerous spark in them. He’s arrogant, and I curse myself for so blatantly checking him out. The last thing this guy needs is another boost to his overly inflated ego. I force myself to break eye contact, shifting my attention back down to my plate. I shove another forkful of spaghetti into my mouth, hoping that if I stuff enough food in there, I can prevent myself from saying something even more humiliating. When I still feel his eyes watching me, I get annoyed and drop my fork on my plate. “Can I help you with something?” A large part of me balks at my rude tone as the words tumble out of my mouth. Even when I have been insulted to my face, told by my own mother to go throw up my birthday cake because I looked a bit “pudgy,” and been followed by a psycho paparazzi for seven blocks, I kept a polite smile pasted on my face. I feel a bit guilty, but more than that, curious: what is it about this GUARDING HER HEART 39 man that seems to make me feel okay being so incredibly rude? And since when did I get such a thrill from being such a bitch to a complete stranger? Surprisingly he doesn’t seem bothered by my tone. He actually seems amused, which only further irritates me. He shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair, stretching out his long legs in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. He waves his hand over me. “Just enjoying the view.” I roll my eyes and push myself up from the chair. I grab my plate and toss it into the nearest trashcan. My heart sinks at the thought of all that delicious food going to waste, but the idea of sitting across from him for another minute is even more intolerable. I hear his footsteps chase after me, but I keep up a slight jog to get away from him. Unfortunately, my six steps are equal to one of his, and he catches up to me in seconds. I feel his touch on my forearm and freeze instantly. His large hand is warm and completely envelops my arm. “Look, Gabby, I’m sorry. Can we please just start over?” I look down at my arm, where his hand is still resting. Following my eyes, he withdraws his hand and takes a step back. “It’s fine. We’re good,” I reply as breezily as I can muster. “Bullshit.” “Excuse me?” I ask incredulously. He shrugs his shoulders in response. “Bullshit,” he repeats. I shake my head and plaster on my practiced smile. “Believe me, we’re good.” I turn to walk away, but then his hand is on me again, pulling me back. “Don’t do that,” he warns, his voice gravelly and his intense eyes locking on mine. “Don’t do what?” I ask, my voice just above a whisper. “Pretend you’re fine when you’re not. Put on that stupid fake smile. You’re mad. Tell me you’re mad.” 40 JADE WEBB

“I’m fine, serious—” “Bullshit,” he interjects before I can finish my sentence. His lips quirk and I can see that he’s holding in a smirk. I feel my blood pressure rising and before I can stop myself, I shoot out, “Screw you!” and turn away from him one final time. CHAPTER SEVEN

let the smile I’ve been holding back cross my face as I watch Gabby storm away. I can almost feel her hatred I and because I’m a goddamn masochist, it fucking turns me on. Something about pushing Miss Gabby’s buttons gets my blood pumping. Seeing her pulse race against her delicate neck, the crimson color rush to her cheeks, and her chest puff out in annoyance sends a surge of blood directly to my dick. Glancing around the room, I subtly adjust my hard-on before returning to Daphni’s dressing room. I am disappointed when I don’t find Gabby waiting there. The opening acts for Daphni’s show have started and she is set to go on in about thirty minutes. I follow the entourage as they trail Daphni, adding their last-minute touches before her performance. When Daphni’s out on stage, I don’t have much work to do except keep an eye out and make sure none of her psychotic teen fans try to rush the stage and grab her. Luck‐ ily, the arena employs its own security team, so I can mostly hang back. 42 JADE WEBB

I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text to my sister in San Diego. She usually takes at least a day to respond to my messages, since she’s always running after my four-year-old niece and making sure my twelve year old nephew stays out of trouble. I try to check in as much as I can, but she’s a single mum and has her own load of issues to worry about. I continue to wander about backstage until I hear the beginning of Daphni’s set. Though I’ve only been with her a week, I’ve already managed to memorize her set list. Her part of the show starts off with this monologue about love and darkness or some bullshit, before transitioning into her first song. Her music isn’t for me, but I’m not here for the music. As I park along the edge of the stage, I find myself anxiously looking around for Gabby again. I’m a bit annoyed with myself at this new obsession. I met her six hours ago and now it seems as if I can’t go one fucking hour without thinking of her or plotting a way to insert myself into a conversation with her. I was a dick to her earlier, too. I knew I was pissing her off, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve got to stop being such an ass. We’ve got three long months together, and I cannot have her hating me. I scan the backstage area again and just like that, my eyes find her. It’s like the mere thought of her caused her to just fucking appear. She’s leaning against a tall beam, just over twenty feet away, her eyes locked on her sister performing onstage. She doesn’t see me, and I take full advantage of the opportunity to drink her in. Bathed in the dim light, I can appreciate her features more fully. Her profile highlights her long lashes and those full, sassy lips. She sways almost imperceptibly to the music, the only giveaway that she is moving being the subtle swish of her long, dark hair. She plays with her GUARDING HER HEART 43 hands, twirling her wrists at her sides. She almost looks nervous. I quickly turn away, nervous that anyone here can see how blatantly obvious it is that I’m checking her out. But a quick look around confirms that all eyes are on Daphni, so I have no witnesses to my pathetic leering. Gabby shifts her weight, sending the blouse hanging off her shoulder an inch lower, revealing more of her smooth skin contrasted with a lone, black bra strap. I almost groan imagining what kind of lacy bra she must be wearing underneath. God, her tits must be amazing. Everything about her looks absolutely amazing: the curve of her hips, the swell of her tight ass in those fucking tiny shorts. Just watching her sends a rush of blood directly to my semi-hard cock. Something about her just seems to inspire that little fucker. Thunderous applause interrupts my thoughts and I reluc‐ tantly bring my eyes back to the main stage. This show is a huge fucking performance: over a dozen backup dancers, ten costume changes, and fifty crew members running around to pull this off each night. A pre-taped video starts playing, a distraction so Daphni can slip into another outfit for her next song. Choreographed to the second, Daphni hits every mark and starts the next song, emerging from a giant seashell dressed as what I can only assume is a mermaid. The crowd goes wild, and I’m convinced I’ll be needing bloody hearing aids by the time I hit forty. As entertaining as Daphni is, I am finding conjuring ways I can continue to get Gabby’s cheeks to flush bright red as she bites back the swell of insults I know she has perched at the tip of her tongue far more exhilarating. I turn my head again so I can spend the next hour fucking torturing myself even more while I secretly survey Gabby. But when I look, she has disappeared. I push myself off the wall and glance around at the dozens of faces surrounding me. 44 JADE WEBB

Though a wave of disappointment washes over me, the rational side of my brain tells me what I already know: there is no way a guy like me could ever be with a girl like Gabby fucking Monroe. Ignoring the very basic fact that her sister is essentially my boss, we come from two different worlds. She is American royalty who very likely grew up eating caviar on fucking yachts, while I am Scottish shit that scraped by on food stamps in tenement housing. We were worlds apart, and it would be better if I just accepted that now. And though I want to fight it, to just say “fuck it all” and taste those fucking tempting lips for myself, I know that there is too much for me to lose to risk it all. So I force myself to keep my feet planted on the ground, to not chase after her like I’ve done all afternoon, and to keep Gabby Monroe as nothing more than a fantasy. CHAPTER EIGHT

follow Melissa as she leads me out of the backstage chaos. A second earlier, she had whispered that she I needed to discuss something important with me in private. I trail obediently behind her as we make our way back to Daphni’s dressing room. Inside I spot Ellie, one of Daphni’s makeup artists, perched on the couch, flipping through a tabloid. The instant she sees us walk in, she tosses the magazine onto the coffee table and claps her hands in excitement. “Gabby!” She squeals merrily as she grabs my hand, pulling me over to the seat in front of the large mirrored vanity. I look over my shoulder at Melissa, who is biting back an amused smile. Once I’m seated, Ellie runs her fingers through my hair, pulling out my ponytail. Confused, I let her work her fingers through my thick curls. Once she’s thor‐ oughly assessed my hair, she smiles at me in the mirror. “We are going to make you look so hot for tonight,” she declares. I shoot a look back at Melissa. “This is the incredibly important matter you needed to discuss with me in private?” Her guilty face is all I need to answer my question, and 46 JADE WEBB before I can say another word, she interjects, “Gabby, just enjoy it. This night is important for your sister.” She starts to back out of the door. “Oh, and I left an outfit for you on the back of the door.” And before I can get a word in edgewise, she ducks out of the room, closing the door behind her. Meanwhile, Ellie hasn’t skipped a beat. A belt filled with an assortment of makeup brushes is tied at her hips, and she is trailing her finger along a colorful eye shadow palette packed with shades from golden sapphire to fluorescent pink. Resigned to my fate, I settle into the chair. As Ellie pulls at my hair, I convince myself to try and make an effort to enjoy this evening. Truthfully, I haven’t had a night out in forever. Thinking back, it’s been about a year. In fact, it was my twenty-first birthday and a group of Dutch exchange students had insisted on taking me out for the night. We had ended up at some warehouse club blasting EDM music, and I had sported a killer headache for the next two days. I am pretty sure the headache was mainly thanks to the music, not the alcohol. “And then we’ll pop some gold on the lids, perfect with your skin tone. And God, your lashes are to die for. I don’t think I’ll even put falsies on you!” Ellie’s perky voice drags me back to the current moment. She has already slathered some cream on my skin, and is going to town on the dark circles under my eyes. Good luck, those things are not going anywhere. An hour later and Ellie declares her work is done. I raise my eyes up to my reflection in the mirror and I can’t help but admire my transformation. Ellie is beaming down at me, obviously proud of her work as well. The dark circles under my eyes have vanished and my skin looks like it’s glowing. I tilt my face and the highlighter on my cheekbone catches the light. When I had been bold and tried to use highlighter a GUARDING HER HEART 47 few months back, I had turned myself into a reflective disco ball. “You are worth your weight in gold, Ellie,” I remark as I continue to survey her work. She has created a sultry bronze smoky eye that seems to bring out golden flecks in my green eyes. The rest of my face is simple, and she finished the look with a subtle, nude lip. After seeing how she had transformed Daphni into a sexy Smurf, I had admittedly been worried, but Ellie seemed to have mastered the look no number of YouTube tutorials could help me accomplish. Ellie beams at the compliment and starts to pack up her tools. She glances up at the monitor in the corner of the room that shows a backstage view of the concert. “I think your sister’s set has another thirty minutes or so left, so you might want to change up.” She gestures to the garment bag hanging over the door, and I push myself out of the chair to see what Melissa picked out. As I unzip the bag, I see a flash of black lace. A pair of strappy black heels sit at the bottom of the bag, along with a black clutch. “Ooh, that’s hot,” Ellie coos from behind me. Her eyes are wide and she leans forward to get a closer look. “Dolce. Nice,” she remarks approvingly. I pull the dress out of the bag and twirl it in my hands. It is undeniably both shorter and smaller than anything else currently sitting in my closet. But it is also incredibly beauti‐ ful, with intricate black lace oversetting a nude sheath that, thanks to its 90% spandex content, is made to hug every curve. The top of the dress dips down to allow for plenty of cleavage, while the back is open, with a delicate pearl clasp at the nape of the neck drawing the two sides together. The sleeves are long, covered in a sheer black lace. It was the perfect mix of sexy and classy. Yet again, Melissa totally nailed it. 48 JADE WEBB

Shooting a glance back at Ellie, busy cleaning her makeup brushes and putting away all the products she had used, I kick off my shoes, shimmy out of my shorts, and peel off my shirt. Another quick look at the dress tells me there is no way I can wear a bra, so that comes off next. I step into the dress and carefully insert my arms into the delicate lace sleeves. Once it’s on, I ask Ellie to help me fasten the pearl enclosure. As she steps back, Ellie whistles appreciatively. “Hot momma!” I roll my eyes and twirl hesitantly in the mirror. God, it’s short. I tug at the sides in a failed attempt to add a few inches. I hear Ellie tsk me as she walks over, assessing me. Without a word, she dips her hand into the front of the dress and cups my breast. As I feel her hand, I let out a yelp and jump back. Ellie rolls her eyes at me, “Oh, relax. We need to bring up the girls a bit.” Ellie dips her hand back into the dress and readjusts my other “girl,” propping it up to give me even more generous cleavage. “There you go!” she proudly declares. I stare into the mirror, almost not recognizing myself. I rarely, if ever, got glammed up anymore. That had seemed too much like a relic of my childhood days, and I actively avoided any events that required any sort of primping beforehand. Like most of the other students on campus, my uniform for the past four years had consisted of yoga pants and comfy flannel button downs. I pull the shoes out of the garment bag and slip them onto my feet. Though they must be at least five inches, they are comfortable enough that I should be able to tolerate them for at least a few hours. In my head, I am already working out how I can find a way to get my sister alone, deliver the news, and sneak out back to my hotel in under an hour. It’s a tall order, but I am also the master of good excuses and treasure being in bed by ten o’clock above all else in life. GUARDING HER HEART 49

Ellie and I watch the remainder of the concert together in Daphni’s dressing room. My leg won’t stop twitching and I can’t stop fidgeting with my hands. On stage, Daphni looks so happy and carefree. She smiles and commands the atten‐ tion of every single person in the twenty thousand-seat arena. It tears me up inside to know that I am going to have to ruin her night, to be the one to tell her that, “Hey, congrats on the first night of your tour. You did great. Killer job. Oh, and mom’s dead.” Egh. The concert wraps up and Daphni dutifully plays one encore before wishing her audience good night. As I watch her walk off stage on the TV, I feel my pulse race. I rehearse the speech I’d been working on all day. I kept it short. I even put in notes like, “offer comforting hand on shoulder.” It feels so clinical, but then again, I don’t have much experience with this. Thank God for that. As I hear the door of Daphni’s dressing room burst open, I force a smile to my face. Though Daphni’s performance has just ended, mine is just beginning. CHAPTER NINE

weave through the packed hallways, my grim face challenging any who dare to try and stop us. Though I the whole crew has been thoroughly vetted, Daphni has a habit of attracting annoyingly persistent fans, and I don’t want to take any risks. I lead Daphni, her dipshit boyfriend, Melissa, and a few other crewmembers safely back to her dressing room. Before I can step inside, my partner, John, calls me over to review the last-minute details for tonight. John served in the Marines with me and shares the same tactical brain. We discuss our plan of entry, any potential security weaknesses, and confirm arrival and departure times. When we’re done, I head back to Daphni’s dressing room to see if she’s almost ready to go. We have fifteen minutes until our estimated time of departure and I have quickly learned that Daphni has a very flexible relationship with time. It drives me fucking nuts. I offer a curt nod to Malik, who is guarding the door from the outside, before I step inside. The room is chaotic, with at least three people surrounding Daphni and adjusting GUARDING HER HEART 51 her hair and makeup as she snaps continuous selfies on her phone, oblivious to everyone around her. Even with the crowd of people buzzing around Daphni, it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for my eyes to find Gabby. I try to fight the way my body reacts to her presence, how I feel my muscles tighten and my body temperature rise, but it’s fucking useless. And even though I’m determined not to pursue her, not to let my carnal instincts kick in and plunge myself deep inside of her the minute she tells me “yes,” I decide there’s no harm in looking from afar. And thank fucking God, because even though she was stunning before in her jean shorts and high tops, now she looks like a fucking goddess. Her hair is out of its ponytail, falling down on her bare back. She has that same checked-out expression on her face, the one that says she’s fine, until you spend two seconds actually looking and see the sadness in her emerald eyes. And as if she can sense me thinking about her, she tilts her head and locks her eyes on mine. This time, she doesn’t scowl or look at me with disdain. Instead, she almost looks at me like she’s…resigned. And it instantly hits me in the gut. Because there’s this feral side of me that feels protective of her, and seeing her sad rips at me. I can try and convince myself it’s because she’s the baby sister I’m currently getting paid $6,000 a week to protect, but I would know that’s bullshit. It’s something else. Drizzle drops down on the couch next to her and she pulls her eyes away from mine to answer him. Her body remains tense and a part of me wants to tell Drizzle to go fuck off, but I can’t. I have no claim over Gabby. I’m just the bodyguard, hired by her sister. Speaking of Daphni, I turn my attention over to her and gesture to the watch on my wrist. “Fifteen minutes and we’re out, Daphni.” Daphni shoots me an annoyed look, confirming that she 52 JADE WEBB heard me. I turn to head out when I see that Gabby has stood up, and I get a full view of the back of dress. Never before have I seen a woman more beautiful—or tempting—than Gabby in this moment. Sexy black lace falls over her frame, hugging every goddamn curve on her tight body. Her back is bare, concealed by her thick curls. Thin, black lace wraps around her arms, offering a tempting preview of all that creamy skin hiding beneath. Only when she turns around to answer something her sister asks do I literally feel my breath hitch in my throat as I let my eyes greedily take in the most glorious, life-altering view of her cleavage. And in that moment, I make a deal with God that if he wants to strike me down now, I’ll be fine with it because I was able to witness the most fucking gorgeous woman I had ever laid eyes on in the most fucking incred‐ ible dress. Shit. There’s such a strong part of me—the caveman part that Gabby is obviously so fond of—that wants to tear off my jacket and toss it over her, not let anyone else see her, and drag her back to my room where I can admire her more fully. I tell that asshole to shut up and from the safety of the corner of the room, I take my time admiring every dip and curve of Gabby in that dress. And really, I don’t bother to hide that I am blatantly checking her out, even when I can feel her eyes on me. But instead of anger, I see a spark in her eyes. And when her eyes find mine, the noise of the room fades to complete silence. How is it that this one woman can affect me so easily? It’s more than her obvious beauty, but I don’t know what to call it. I do know what to call the feeling I get a second later, when Drizzle drapes his arm over her shoulder: fucking rage. Gabby pulls her eyes away to answer him and I feel my muscles tick in annoyance. His eyes widen as he steals a look down Gabby’s dress GUARDING HER HEART 53 and I clench my fist. If I didn’t hate him before, I certainly do now. “Come on, babe, just one pic,” Drizzle whines. I watch as Gabby uncomfortably tries to slide away, and I feel myself wanting to step in and pull Drizzle away. Daphni turns around in her chair and glares at her sister. “God, Gabby. Just take one picture. He’s trying to bond with you.” I can see Gabby’s jaw tick. She’s pissed and even from here, I can see it. But instead of telling her sister to just fuck off, she plasters on that same fucking plastic smile and agrees to take a picture with Drizzle. The bastard pulls her in closer and holds out his camera to take the picture. As soon as she hears the click, Gabby slides out of his grip and rigidly pulls herself away. “Remember, you promised not to post it online,” Gabby adds, as Drizzle types away furiously at his phone. “Drizzle, did you hear what…?” “Girl, no worries. I got you,” he reassures her, never taking his eyes off the screen. I watch as Gabby’s eyes dart around the room, and she twiddles her fingers in her lap. I can tell she is purposely trying to avoid looking over at me. Her leg hasn’t stopped bouncing and the girl is practically vibrating with nerves. I can’t imagine it’s the whole celebrity scene. From what I researched on Daphni before I took this gig, the two sisters grew up in the lap of luxury in the Hollywood Hills. All of this must feel common. No, her anxious energy is coming from somewhere else. “Damn girl, you’re popular!” Drizzle exclaims as he shoves his phone in front of Gabby’s face. “My Drizzlers are feeling you.” “Drizzlers?” She asks, confused. “Wait, did you post that online?” 54 JADE WEBB

“Yeah, baby. I got a solid two million Drizzlers loving on me every day.” Her hands clench at her sides and I can see a wave of panic cross her eyes. “Girl, let me tag you here. What’s your ‘gram?” “Drizzle, I told you not to post that!” I can hear the strain in her voice as she tries to grab Drizzle’s phone. “Yo, Gabby, relax. It’s cool. Look, you already have like 5,000 likes.” “I don’t want my picture online, Drizzle,” she bites out. “Chill, girl. I didn’t even put your name.” Gabby looks down at Drizzle’s phone and I can see her chest move up and down as she takes deep, measured breaths. “You captioned it, ‘Take a look at my new bitch’?” Drizzle laughs maniacally as he takes the phone back from Gabby. “Chill, girl. I’m just playing.” A dark scowl crosses over Gabby’s face but she doesn’t respond. I find myself aching to know what goes on in this girl’s head, and why she doesn’t tell this asshole off when she is so clearly fucking angry. I know she has it in her—every second she’s around me, she can’t contain her venom. Why then, is she so goddamn polite with Drizzle? From her seat, Daphni lets out an annoyed shriek. “Seri‐ ously, Drizzle?” Drizzle looks up from his phone, confusion on his face, as Daphni jumps up from her seat, her own phone in hand. “What is up with your fucking caption, Drizzle?” Ignoring her, Drizzle instead turns his attention back to his phone. Annoyed, Daphni demands that an assistant standing by unzip her dress. She slides out of it, wearing nothing but a nude thong and silver heels. A satisfied grin comes over her face as she sees she now has Drizzle’s full attention. I politely avert my eyes and swallow back a chuckle when I catch Gabby’s eyes jump to mine, eagerly GUARDING HER HEART 55 verifying that I am not checking out her sister’s naked body. The small satisfaction I feel when I realize Gabby might be jealous sends a possessive feeling coursing through my veins. Thankfully, Daphni quickly dresses and once I see it’s safe to open my eyes, I remind her that it’s time to leave. This time she doesn’t argue, and with Drizzle’s full attention now back on her, she heads out the door, a victorious grin on her face as she takes a long sip from her water bottle. Gabby follows and as she breezes past me out the door, I offer her a bright smile. “Looking bonny, lass,” I remark, and just as I predicted, her cheeks flush a dark crimson and her pink lips visibly tremble as she gapes at me. Embarrassed, she rushes past me, and I choke back a laugh as I watch her walk away, her hips swaying as she quickens her steps to catch up to her sister. It was, admittedly, a low move for me, but I was a desperate man and eager to get whatever reaction I could out of this woman. Because if I couldn’t have her, at least I could torment her as much as she was tormenting me. CHAPTER TEN

can count on my hands the number of times I have been to a club. Not surprisingly, most of those times I I had been dragged along by Daphni. Her favorite pastime had been sneaking me into clubs, forcing me to stand guard while she got plastered and made out with nameless strangers. My role had always been to peel her out of the creep’s arms, get her into the cab, and tuck her into bed, making sure that she didn’t choke on her vomit and die in the middle of the night. It was about as fun as it sounds. Eventually, Daphni had tired of forcing her little sister to tag along and I got replaced. Not that I minded. Besides, I was more of a quiet neighborhood bar-and-a-pint-of-beer kind of girl. But alas, Daphni wanted to go to some exclusive Moroccan-themed club called Tangiers, so here I am. Resigned, I decide I’m going to give myself one hour to break the news. One hour to break my sister’s heart. I hated my father for putting me in this situation, but what could I do? Law school was my escape, and this was the price I needed to pay. As soon as the car pulls up to the entrance of the club, my GUARDING HER HEART 57 stomach sinks. A line of photographers and screaming fans stand waiting outside. Although they are barricaded off by a velvet rope, the flashing lights and throng of people waiting are completely overwhelming. I go into full panic mode and try desperately to will my body to melt into the seat behind me. Before I can even prepare myself, the door of the car opens and a hand reaches in. Daphni steps out first, with Drizzle following closely behind. Taking deep, steadying breaths, I force myself to slide over and get out of the damn car. But my legs feel like lead. While those waiting cameras are just another blur of pesky paparazzi to Daphni, to me they symbolize the death of my anonymity. I had spent years dodging public events and building up my impenetrable fortress of solitude. One picture with Daphni is all it would take to destroy it all. It’s bad enough that Drizzle has a damn picture of me on his stupid Instagram. Luckily it doesn’t have my name on it, but it’s still far more than I’m comfortable with. After a few seconds, Liam pops his head in. He offers his hand to help me out and then seeing me, furrows his brow as he reads my panicked expression. Without saying a word, he turns away for a few seconds before jumping into the back‐ seat beside me and directing the driver to a nearby alley. “We are going to drive around back and go through that entrance,” he says. I fall back against the seat in relief, catching his eye. “Thank you.” I’m grateful when he says nothing, simply nodding in return. When the car slows to a stop, he jumps out first and holds out his hand for me. I hesitate before placing my hand in his. I can’t explain it, but his touch seems to set my nerves on fire. It’s as if each touch between us brings us closer to this intangible…thing. I shake the nonsensical thoughts from 58 JADE WEBB my head and place my hand in his. As expected, the second our hands touch, a rush of heat races down to my core. I do my best to ignore it and step down onto the concrete. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I pull my hand away. Luckily someone is already waiting for us by the back entrance, so we are ushered in quickly. I go in first, and Liam follows closely behind. As we enter the crush of people, I feel Liam’s warm hand come to rest on the small of my back. He guides me through the crowd until we safely cross to the other side, to the roped-off VIP section. In keeping with its Moroccan theme, the VIP section has six large cordoned-off white canvas tents. Colorful uphol‐ stered poufs in rich burgundies and burnt oranges surround an intricately carved wooden table in each tent. On the table rests an impressive assortment of different bottles of expen‐ sive, top-shelf liquor and mixers. Already Daphni and Drizzle are tipping back glasses of something. Dismayed, I see that Drizzle has invited his friends, whom I have had the misfortune of meeting before. Each one is creepier and sleazier than the last. Reluctantly, I step into the tent and take an empty seat next to my sister. “Gabby!” Daphni squeals as she sees me. She claps her hands together and presses a messy kiss on my cheek. I am surprised to see that she is already wasted. She only had a ten-minute head start getting here, and the only thing I saw her drinking in the car was a bottle of water. “Gabby drink this,” my sister orders, handing me a glass of some clear liquid. “What is it?” “It’s Everclear!” she shouts, a bit more loudly than needed, her words already blurring together. I wave my hands in front of me, rejecting the glass. “I’m good, Daphni. You know, I was actually hoping we could talk tonight. You know, just the two of us.” GUARDING HER HEART 59

Daphni rolls her eyes dramatically. “Gabby, I promise we will talk. But tonight is the first night of my tour! At least have one drink with me.” She pouts her lips and bats her lashes. It’s a pathetic ploy she has used on me since we were kids to get me to join her in whatever devious scheme she has devised. It always worked then, and as I take the glass from her and nervously sniff the contents, I can’t help but admit it still works today. She clinks her glass with mine and tilts her drink down her mouth. I do the same, guzzling down the contents even as I feel the liquor burning my throat. Finishing half of it, I slam the drink on the table and cough. “That’s disgusting!” I make a face at my sister and she grabs a bottle of dark-red liquid and pours it into my drink. “Try it now.” I tentatively take another sip, and the sweetness of the cranberry juice masks the harshness of the liquor. The drink thankfully goes down smoother and a pleasant, warm and tingly sensation courses through my body. That feeling swiftly disappears when the overwhelming smell of cheap cologne overpowers my senses and one of Drizzle’s friends takes the empty seat next to mine. “Hey, Gabby. Looking good.” At the sound of his voice, I feel my body tense up. I recog‐ nize that voice, made nasally by one too many Clove ciga‐ rettes, and a quick tilt of my head confirms it: Elijah, Drizzle’s super creepy childhood friend who awkwardly follows him everywhere. He has an uncomfortable habit of staring for far too long and is always a bit too touchy. I should have guessed he was coming. I offer him a polite, tight-lipped smile in return and shift in my seat to try and scoot closer to Daphni. I find my eyes darting around, searching for Liam. Though there is some‐ 60 JADE WEBB thing about Liam that sets me on edge, I undeniably feel safer knowing he is nearby. I feel my body relax a bit when I find him standing at the edge of our VIP tent. He is facing away from us, likely looking around at the crowd and ensuring that no fans or groupies get too close and bother us. And with his tall frame and bulky muscles, I doubt any sane person would try and get past him. He looks like a UFC/Jolly Green Giant hybrid. You would have to be a complete idiot to try and mess with him. Tonight, he is wearing a fitted black long-sleeve shirt, with the collar unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his hard chest. He has rolled up the sleeves, pushing them to his elbows. From my vantage point a few feet away, I can see the dark ink of a tattoo spilling out from under his sleeve and wrapping around his right forearm. He shifts slightly, almost imperceptibly, and I can see the ripples in his arms move as he flexes. He looks so tense and uncomfortable. Then again, I can imagine having to play babysitter for a spoiled pop star and her high-maintenance entourage might not be his idea of a fun night out. I wonder what a fun night out would be for Liam. Is he the type to prowl around town for ladies? God, with a body like that I bet he could have any woman he wanted in his bed with a snap of his fingers. Egh, why does the thought of him with another woman send a shaft of disappointment through me? A tug on my wrist pulls me out of my thoughts and I look up to see Daphni standing over me. “Come on, bitch. We’re going to dance,” she declares, her words slurring together. I inwardly groan. When Daphni drinks too much, her alternate personality comes out. Daphni likes to call her Bianca. Bianca enjoys flirting, tearful confessions in bath‐ room stalls, and calling everyone “bitch.” Incredibly, Bianca is GUARDING HER HEART 61 even more high-maintenance than Daphni, and a complete psychopath. Unfortunately, it looks like Daphni has already checked out for the night and Bianca is in full-force. Drizzle practically carries Daphni out of the tent, and I slam back the rest of the contents of my glass. I rarely drink, but I am going to need some liquid reinforcement if I’m stuck with Bianca for the rest of the night. Daphni won’t leave until she sees me following, so I push myself out of my seat and obediently trail behind her and Drizzle. To my annoyance, Drizzle’s friends also follow along and we form a long train down to the dance floor. Daphni’s security team, with Liam at its helm, forms a protective barrier around us. On the dance floor, Daphni and Drizzle immediately begin to grind on each other. Drizzle is still supporting most of her body weight and Daphni has wrapped her leg around him. The whole scene is cringe- worthy and is veering dangerously into porno territory. Luckily Liam and his team are on the ball and the instant they eye a cellphone camera, they push the offender away. Unfortunately, I am not having similar luck deterring Drizzle’s friends. I can feel Elijah’s bloodshot eyes on me as I awkwardly sway back and forth. The loud thumping of the bass coupled with my sister’s behavior is starting to frustrate me. I had planned my whole speech out for her tonight and the evening is going to shit. Luckily the last time I checked online, the news still had not broken about our mother’s death, but I know I am working against the clock. I tug on the sleeve of my sister’s dress and she shoots me an annoyed look before pushing me away. I land on Elijah, who takes the opportunity to pull me closer, so my ass is uncomfortably close to the growing bulge in his pants. Swal‐ lowing back a desire to vomit on his shoes, I pull away and signal a nearby waiter for a drink. At this point, I don’t even care what comes—I just need something to distract me and 62 JADE WEBB give me enough courage to confront Daphni and rush back to my inviting hotel bed. Thankfully, the waiter arrives quickly, and I greedily down the contents of the glass. Elijah’s long fingers curl on either side of my hips and he pulls me back against him. I manage to swivel out of his grasp and shoot him a warning look. I am usually good about withholding my anger, but if he touches me one more time, the rest of this drink is going down his shirtfront. I take a few steps back and Daphni shimmies over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. She teeters in her stiletto heels and I feel myself getting dragged down with her. Luckily Drizzle is close by, and he disentangles her from me and continues dancing with her. The few drinks I’ve had are finally beginning to kick in, and a pleasant warmth washes over me. My swaying finally falls in line with the beat, and I let my eyes fall closed as I relax into the music. That is until I feel long, spidery fingers wrap around my wrist. I open my eyes again to see Elijah in front of me. His dark-blue eyes are blatantly lustful and oddly, a bit terrifying. I pull my wrist away, but he is surprisingly strong, given his lanky frame. He pulls me toward him as I continue to try and wriggle my arm away. The smell of his drugstore cologne hits me again. Annoyed, I press the heel of my stiletto into his shoe. He recoils at the sharp sting and drops my hand. I spin around and march back to the tented VIP section. I’m grateful to find the tent empty, and I fall down into my seat and reach to make myself another drink. This time, I forgo the Everclear and pour cranberry juice into the glass. Whatever good mood the alcohol had tricked me into thinking I had achieved was now long gone. All I feel now is frustration and annoyance. GUARDING HER HEART 63

My body tenses as I watch Liam lead Daphni and Drizzle back to the tent. Daphni’s face is scrunched in anger and I can see her hands bunched at her side. The minute she walks back into the tent, she stalks over to me. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Gabby?” she hisses, as her eyes narrow to glare down at me. I force myself to stand and look her in the eye. “What is wrong with me? Look at you!” I point my finger at her accus‐ ingly and she scoffs at me, rolling her eyes. “God, you are such a priss, Gabby. How dare you come to my tour, to my party, and insult my friends?” “Well, I rather be a priss than be…whatever this is,” I reply, waving my hand in her direction. I reach for my bag and move to walk around her. Daphni squawks and blocks me from leaving. Liam steps farther into the tent and places his hand on Daphni’s arm. “Daphni, let your sister—” Daphni swivels out of Liam’s grasp and glares at him. “You have no right to touch me!” I use this moment to side step out of Daphni’s grasp. As I walk away, Daphni continues her acrid assault. “Gabby just go home. I don’t even want you here. Aren’t you embarrassed that you have nowhere else to go? Lawrence is too busy for you, and dad and mom didn’t even care enough to see you graduate. God Gabby, take a hint.” Her words are laced with venom and hit me right where she intended. I blink back tears and continue to walk away. “You see, babe? I told you she wouldn’t do anything,” Daphni continues. “She has no backbone. I think the reason she’s such a tight ass is because she’s still a virgin. She just needs to get some and then maybe she can finally loosen up.” The sound of Drizzle's snicker finally sends me over the edge and I spin on my heels. Anger courses through my veins as I close the distance between my sister and me. Heat rushes 64 JADE WEBB to my cheeks and a satisfied smile tugs at Daphni’s lips. I feel my hands trembling and my jaw tick as the blood pumping inside me boils. This is it. This is what it looks like when someone finally hits their boiling point, I think, as I finally reach her. “Fine, Daphni. You want the truth?” I spit out, rage taking over my body. “I don’t want to be here, either. The truth is mom is dead, and everyone is too scared to tell you because they’re worried you’re going to fall off the deep end.” I wave my hand over her. “Which, clearly has already happened. And now, I have to watch over you and make sure you don’t have another mental breakdown so dad will bankroll my law school and then I never have to see you again!” My chest heaves as I hiss out the final words. Everything I said had come out so hastily. I look at Daphni and watch with unbri‐ dled disgust as she lifts her glass in a mock toast. “To my beloved mother, who gave me life and a record contract! Rest in peace, wherever the hell you are.” She downs her drink and I feel my stomach turn. Grabbing my purse, I rush past my sister out of the tent. Not able to see the nearest exit behind the tears clouding my eyes, I make a split-second decision to take the stairs up to the rooftop bar and clear my head. I’m grateful it’s a clear, cool summer night. The lights from the city illuminate the cozy rooftop bar, filled mainly with couples wanting to catch a romantic moment of peace and quiet. I walk over to the edge of the roof and drop my elbows on the ledge. Peering down below, I gaze at the dots of people walking by and pathetically wish I could be among them, an anonymous dot on the street. I pull out my phone, immediately regretting that I don’t have a smartphone so I could call a cab or order an Uber out of here. I had seen how all my classmates had gotten so distracted from their studies by their phones, with all those GUARDING HER HEART 65 stupid games and apps, and had decided I would only get one once I had graduated from law school. I had never really been in a situation where I needed one before, but now that I would be stuck on tour with Daphni for the summer, I should seriously consider amending my rule. Law, Daphni is a disaster. I type out to my brother. I don’t think I can make it through the summer. I think thirty years of crippling debt would be worth it. True to Lawrence, my phone beeps back with a response in just a few minutes. G, she’s our sister. She needs you right now. I groan at his typical, responsible, big-brother reply. Well, what about me? I press the “send” button before I give myself a moment to re-read it. I cringe at how pathetic I sound, and feel even more pathetic when a second later, my phone lights up with a call from my brother. “Gabby, what’s going on?” my brother’s concerned voice asks. I let out a quiet sigh. “Nothing, Law. Sorry to bother you. I’m just feeling dramatic tonight.” “Gabby—” “No, seriously. I’m fine. Daphni’s just wasted and I’m frustrated. I’m sure everything will be fine tomorrow.” “Are you sure?” he asks, and I know he doesn’t fully believe me. I steel my voice before I respond. “I’m sure. Go to bed, Lawrence. I’m good.” “Gabby, I know it’s not easy. And I’m sorry we dumped this on you. But I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could do it. You are the best one out of all of us, Gabs.” I shake my head as I bite back a bitter laugh. “Right.” “Gabby, I know our family is a mess. And I know you haven’t had the best role models growing up, myself included. And not a day goes by that I don’t realize that. But 66 JADE WEBB we can’t give up on each other. Daphni needs you. And hell, maybe you need her, too.” I let his words sink in and let out a long exhale. “Maybe you’re right, Law,” I concede. My brother laughs, and the familiar sound instantly sends a smile straight to my face. “Of course I’m right, Gabby. I always am.” I roll my eyes and we say our goodbyes before I hang up and return the phone to my clutch. I feel calmer, and though I am not eager to return to Daphni, I reason I will have to do it at some point. I slide away from the ledge and turn around to see Liam leaning against the wall across from me. His eyes are locked on me as he pushes off the wall and walks toward me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his concerned eyes burning into mine. I do my best to offer a nonchalant shrug. “I’m good.” A surprisingly adorable dent appears in between his brows as he narrows his eyes down at me, a concerned expression on his face. “You don’t look good.” I paste on my practiced smile before responding. “Well, I’m good.” He shakes his head and crosses his arms at his chest. “You’re all bum and parsley,” he mutters. I arch my brow in response. “Eh, translation please?” “You’re full of it, girl. You’re not good.” I prop my hands on my hips. “Oh, I’m full of it, eh? Well then how aboot this: move out of me way so I can get oot of here and show you how good I am,” I say, mocking his Scot‐ tish brogue. My pathetic impersonation draws an amused upward quirk to his lips and he gallantly bows away, allowing me to pass. I straighten my shoulders and walk down the steps, back to the VIP section. I brace myself for another GUARDING HER HEART 67 confrontation, but am surprised to see the tent empty, with a mess of overturned bottles in its former occupants’ wake. I turn back to face Liam. “Where is everyone?” “After you left, Daphni was in a sour mood and everyone decided to head back to the hotel.” A wave of relief washes over me. “Oh, thank God.” I look back at him. “Wait, why are you still here then?” He offers a simple shrug. “I didn’t want to leave you alone here.” I nod in response and follow Liam out of the packed club and onto the empty street. He pulls his phone from his back pocket. “They took the car, so we’ll need a cab.” “Wait,” I say, looking for the street sign. “Do you know how far are we?” “About six blocks, I’d wager.” “How do you feel about walking back?” I ask, before I can call the question back. I have a lot on my mind, and am hoping a walk in the city can help remedy this unsettling feeling I have lingering from my fight with Daphni. Liam nods, tucks his phone into his back pocket, and offers me a warm smile. “Let’s do it.” CHAPTER ELEVEN

e walk in silence for the first block. Even with the distracting neon lights of the city and the W bright yellow taxis that continue to race past us, all I can focus on is Gabby at my side. She has her hands wrapped tightly together and her obvious nervous energy clashes with the peaceful aura of the pre-dawn city. With Gabby next to me, all the buildings, cars and people around us seem to fade into a mess of flashing colors that pale in comparison to the woman walking at my side. How is it that in one day one person can affect how you see everything surrounding you? It made no fucking sense and yet… it did. I want to open my mouth and say something to comfort her, but my track record with this woman is not so great. I can’t seem to keep from pissing her off, and she’s had a shitty enough night without me saying something stupid again. “So…,” she says, as I catch her looking over at me. “You’re Scottish.” “Aye, lass, that I am,” I respond, making a point to exag‐ gerate my brogue, which prompts her to playfully roll her eyes in response, though I do catch the color that rushes to GUARDING HER HEART 69 her cheeks. It's adorable, and I make a mental note to try to bring that warm flush to her cheeks again. “So how did you end up here? With Daphni? Melissa said you were in the military?” I grin at her questions, excited that she appears to at least be mildly curious about me. It’s a good start and a hell of a boost to my ego. “Aye. I came here with my mum when I was sixteen. My mum had met some American in this online chat room and they fell in love. He was a military man and a real stand-up guy. He encouraged me to list up, so I joined the Marines after graduating. When I left, I needed a job, and one of my mates from the Marines had started working for this private security company and they needed some guys, so here I am.” She nods thoughtfully. “Do you like it, then?” “It pays the bills, I s’pose.” “You know, she wasn’t always like this,” Gabby adds softly, after a long silence. “She doesn’t have an easy run of it,” I add. I don’t know what to say and the way her eyes are brimming with tears terrifies me. I have never been known as the comforting type, and I worry that I’ll just say something to make her hurt even more. “Thank you for saying that,” she responds. And at first, I think she’s just politely blowing me off, but I can see her exhale a deep breath and it’s as if she has somehow managed to expel a little of the sadness she was holding with it. I feel my chest swell a bit with pride at the knowledge that my words had that effect. “Tell me more about your sister, then. The one you know.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I worry she might think I was interested in her sister and not in her. My fears evaporate, however, when a large smile crosses her face and she excitedly shares her favorite memory with her sister: 70 JADE WEBB a time when they had a sleepover and had stayed up all night laughing and playing pranks on their poor brother. Though I honestly try my best to listen, I keep finding myself so distracted by her lips as she speaks. Her face is so animated when she talks. It’s as if she speaks with her whole body, so passionately. I can easily imagine her in a court‐ room, dressed in a tight pencil skirt, a form-fitting white blouse unbuttoned just above those gorgeous breasts, her thick brown hair pulled back in a sexy knot at her neck as she states her case to the judge, her arms waving in excite‐ ment as she makes her final blow. The fantasy makes my dick hard and I feel it strain against my pants. I shoot a quick look to make sure she didn’t notice, but she’s moved on to another childhood story and I force myself to ignore the bulge in my pants and focus. Fuck, this girl has too much of an effect on me. Disappointment rushes over me as soon as we arrive back to the hotel. Even though I know I’m going to see her tomorrow and I have to be back at work in a few hours, I want nothing more than for her to come back to my room. To come to my bed, be under me as we both find a way to put the shitty night behind us. Instead, I push those feelings away and shove my hands in my pockets as we wait for the elevator. We step into the glass elevator, and fall into an awkward silence until we reach the eighth floor. As the doors chime open, we both quickly stumble out. I turn automatically to the left toward my room as she turns right. We both stop as we see that we are going in opposite directions. “Well, goodnight,” Gabby says, a subtle crimson blush stealing up her cheeks. I’m no better and give her a brusque wave like a bumbling arsehole before turning around and retreating into to my suite. GUARDING HER HEART 71

I don’t wait to hear the door click closed behind me before I strip off my shirt and kick off my shoes. My pants are quick to follow and I throw them onto a nearby chair. Collapsing onto my bed, I shove my hand down my boxers and wrap my fingers around the base of my throbbing cock. I’m fucking hard, and I know it’s because of Gabby and that fucking dress and the way her pretty, plump lips curl into a wide smile when she remembers a happy memory, and the way she twirls her finger in her hair when she’s nervous. It’s everything, and it’s fucking crazy that this girl has me this torn up after one day. Perhaps that could be attributed to my eight-month self-imposed celibacy, but even then, I went longer periods without during my enlistment and was never this affected by a woman before. I continue to think about Gabby, in that perfect dress, as I move my hand up and down the base of my rigid cock. I feel my breath come out in shallow spurts as I grip my shaft and speed up my strokes. Pre-cum spurts out of the tip of my cock as my strokes get more and more frantic. An image of Gabby underneath me, her cheeks flushed red as she lays naked and squirming, eager for my cock, is what finally finishes me off with a loud groan. Cum spills onto my stomach and I take a few seconds to pant and enjoy the after‐ glow before grabbing a box of tissues from the bedside and cleaning myself off. The clock next to me flashes the time and I realize it took me less than four minutes to come. I groan at my pathetic new record and thrust my head down on the pillow. How the fuck am I going to be around this girl for three whole months? CHAPTER TWELVE

open my eyes slowly, throwing a colorful string of curses at the light streaming through my open window. I I turn my head to look at the clock on the nightstand. It’s ten past one in the afternoon, meaning I must have slept at least ten solid hours. As I swing my legs over the bed, the events from last night all come racing back to me. I drop my head into my hands, recalling that disastrous conversation with Daphni. I hop into the shower to wash away the previous night. I had been too tired to remove all the makeup last night, so when I step out of my steaming shower, I look like a drowned raccoon. I grab a towel and wipe away the mascara residue. My plan today is to lay low and find a quiet place to study while I wait for Daphni to cool down. My plan seems perfect until I’m dressed and looking for my book bag and suddenly remember that I had left all my books and my bag in Daphni’s dressing room yesterday. Shit. There is no way I can leave my books there. I need to get them. Just knowing they’re not nearby is enough to cause me anxiety. So much for my plan to avoid Daphni today. GUARDING HER HEART 73

I step into my high tops and slip my phone, room key, and credit card into my back pocket. If I run, I might be able to grab my things before Daphni’s sound check and escape before detection and any awkward conversations. I make it five steps into the lobby before I catch sight of my sister’s bright-blue hair. Panicked, I scan the large, open space for a piece of furniture to hide behind, but it’s too late, and her eyes lock on mine. Like a target in a crosshair, I am unable to move and I just stand in wait as she walks over, her stiletto heels clicking on the marble floor. Behind her I can see Liam offering me a consoling smile. As she closes the distance between us, she slides off her sunglasses, revealing puffy, bloodshot eyes. I take a small measure of comfort in guessing that Daphni is probably feeling a whole lot worse than I am right now. As she reaches me, Daphni reaches for my hand and pulls me down to sit next to her on a nearby bench. Her hands are cold, and when I see her under the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the hotel lobby, I realize how tiny and shrunken she looks, like a sepia shadow of herself. “Gabby, I want to apologize for last night. I was awful and so mean and heartless.” She looks down as her voice breaks, shaking her head. “I am so sorry I said those things about you.” I'm confused when I hear the emotion and sincerity in her voice. She had been so callous just last night, making a mock toast to our dead mother. With Daphni, I always feel like I have whiplash. I can never seem to get close enough to actually decipher what is going on behind the scenes before she is already two steps away. I pat her hand reassuringly. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” Daphni lets out a frustrated groan. “Don’t do that, Gabby. Not with me.” 74 JADE WEBB

“Do what?” I ask, taken aback by her frustration. “You know. The whole ‘let’s pretend this never happened and stick fake smiles on our faces so the neighbors won’t know how crazy we really are.’ We are not Mom and Dad. God, Gabby, I am so sick of faking it all the time. Let’s just be honest—at least with each other!” I nod in agreement and drop the smile. “Fine. If that’s what you want. You were a mega bitch last night and you looked like a total asshole.” Daphni inhales sharply at my words before throwing her hands up. “You’re right. As usual, you’re right, Gabby. I suck. I’m sorry.” Cradling my hands in hers, she locks her large emerald eyes on mine and pouts her bright-pink lips. “Think you can forgive me?” I can’t help but smile at how ridiculous she looks. As hard as I try, even I am not immune to my sister’s charms. I offer her a nod and she pulls me into a hug before releasing me, her face turning serious, and asking, “So what happened to mom?” “She mixed up her ‘vitamins’.” Daphni nods somberly, not needing any further explana‐ tion. “Funeral?” “It’s, uh, today actually. In L.A., of course. Dad wanted to keep it small, to keep it from getting out too much. Lawrence told me they would be sending out a press release later today. They’re going with diabetic ketoacidosis and an accidental insulin overdose.” “Got it.” Daphni bites down on her lower lip and I catch a wave of sadness flash in my sister’s eyes. Instinctively, I reach out to grab her hand. “Daphni…” Daphni pulls back her hand and exhales. Looking down, she presses nonexistent wrinkles out of her skirt. As she stands, she looks down at me. “Gabby, I’m good. Trust me. GUARDING HER HEART 75

I’ve got to prep for tonight. Why don’t you come with? We’re all going to ride over.” I want to wrap my arms around her thin frame, tell her it’s okay to not be okay. But who was I to even say that? Hadn’t I done the same with Liam just yesterday? It was if we had denial inscribed in our DNA. We both knew we were full of shit, we just didn’t have the ability to call out the other without outing ourselves as hypocrites. So instead, I smile in return and stand to follow her to the town car waiting outside. And as I stand back and watch my sister wave to the paparazzi and pose with her fans, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sadness at how successfully she has mastered the ability to put on her happy mask and wear it so deceivingly. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

turn my head to watch the plane take off, savoring the view as the city gets smaller and smaller below us. We I are headed on a quick flight back to my stomping grounds of Washington, D.C., where Daphni will be playing two more shows. We’re using one of our family’s jets to travel for the tour, while the remaining crew are stuck bussing it. I almost considered joining the crew bus when I overheard Drizzle making a mile-high joke, but by then it was too late, so I made sure to be the first one to scramble aboard the plane and claim the two seats in the front row. Now that we are up in the air, I take a quick second to glance behind me. As predicted, Daphni and Drizzle are in the back row recreating some animalistic mating ritual I am sure I have seen on some late-night Animal Planet special. Melissa is curled up in another seat, flipping through a pile of magazines. My greedy eyes continue to dart throughout the interior until they land on Liam. He’s seated in the middle of the jet, his long legs spilling out into the aisle. He is in a heated discussion with the other two security detail GUARDING HER HEART 77 sitting across from him. I can’t hear them, but his hands are animated and his brow furrowed. I can see the other two men following his words with interest, nodding along. I turn in my seat before anyone can catch my obvious staring. Deciding I need a distraction, I grab my bag and rummage through until I find the John Grisham novel I had packed. I had picked up The Firm, justifying it by telling myself that since it was technically a novel with a lawyer as the protagonist, it counted toward my study hours. I thumb through the paperback, finding the page where I’d left off. My eyes skim over the page and I keep rereading the same lines, none of it sinking in. I already know how the novel ends, thanks to Wikipedia. I never pick up a book, or go to see a movie, without reading every possible spoiler first. I used to drive my family crazy by researching movie spoilers before committing to watch any movie. If there is one thing I hate most in the world, it’s surprises. For me, the best way to avoid surprises and be prepared is to simply know the ending before I even open the book. After a few minutes of rereading the same word a hundred times over, I decide trying to continue is futile. With a frustrated groan, I slam the book closed and drop it down on the table in front of me. “Must be a good book, then?” Liam’s rich brogue instantly pulls me out of my fog and I jump in my seat with surprise. How had I not noticed him? He slides into the seat across from me, a playful smile on his face. “Eh, sure,” I reply absently before pointedly turning my attention to the window at my side in a futile attempt to ignore both Liam and the visceral impact he is obviously having on me. I weave my fingers together and crack my knuckles. It’s a horrible nervous habit I have and Daphni has convinced me I 78 JADE WEBB am going to end up with puffy fingers from my “bloated cartilage.” I hate how anxious I feel around Liam, and even though I keep my eyes glued to the window, I can feel his gaze on me. “Tell me about the book.” “What?” I ask, turning to face him. His eyes dart down to my discarded book and I feel my cheeks heat. “Oh, right. It’s about a young lawyer named Mitch. He gets recruited for this law firm in Memphis and then a bunch of the other lawyers at the firm start dying, so he hires this private inves‐ tigator to look into it. Then he gets approached by the FBI and he finds out the firm is basically laundering money for the mob. In the end, he turns over all these documents to the FBI then runs off to Cayman Islands with ten million dollars.” Liam shoots me a quizzical look. “You finished the book already? It looks like your bookmark is right in the beginning.” “You know, you are creepily observant,” I respond, which draws a smile to his lips. “I’m actually only on the third chap‐ ter. I just don’t like not knowing how something is going to end, so I make sure that it has a satisfying ending before I waste my time reading it. I don’t want to be disappointed.” Liam leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “But what about the excitement of not knowing?” he asks, with a playful wink. “What about the danger?” I roll my eyes in response. “Life is too short to take risks like that.” Liam leans back in his chair, a serious expression over‐ taking his playful smile. “No, Gabby. Life is too short not to.” CHAPTER FOURTEEN

groan at the sound of my obnoxious, chirping ringtone. I had gotten up at six in the morning to sneak in some I extra study time, and had been struggling with one particular test question. And now my phone decided to chime in. Perfect timing. Flipping it open, my grumpy mood instantly fades and a smile reaches my lips as I read a message from Lawrence. Happy birthday, G. Enjoy the pancakes. I reread the text again, puzzled. I look up around my hotel suite. A quick survey of the room confirms it is indeed pancake-less. Just then, I hear a loud knock at the door. My heart races at the prospect of my beloved older brother surprising me on my birthday with pancakes. I scramble out of bed with excitement and rush to the door. I pull it open to find Melissa standing in the hall, wearing a party hat and a goofy smile. I do my best to disguise the disappointment of not seeing my brother on the other side of the door and give Melissa a warm smile. 80 JADE WEBB

She starts to sing “Happy Birthday,” and I bite back a chuckle at her off-key rendition. By the second verse, however, I can’t keep it in. “Melissa, I love you, but your tone deafness is going to make my ears bleed.” Melissa playfully sticks out her tongue and pushes a cart overflowing with an assortment of flowers and a few covered trays into my hotel suite. I close the door behind her and she lifts up a large, covered tray to reveal a sky-high pile of chocolate-chip pancakes. I can’t fight the huge smile overtaking my face when I see the elaborate display. As far back as I can remem‐ ber, Lawrence had always cooked me a birthday breakfast. It was our special thing and he never forgot a year. For my last birthday, he had surprised me while I was studying abroad in a remote Swiss city. He had come prepared with ingredients and a tiny hotplate. After we ended up shorting out the elec‐ tricity in my apartment, we dined on his watery, under‐ cooked pancakes. Piling up my plate, I grab the carafe of syrup and drop down onto the couch. I shove a few bites in my mouth before remembering Melissa and offering her a bite of my delicious treat. She shakes her head at my offer. “Thanks, but I think I’m coming down with a cold and don’t want to share it.” I look her over, noticing her puffy eyes and red nose. “Yeah, you don’t look so good, Mel.” She dabs her nose with a tissue. “I just need to rest. I mean, who else in the world gets a cold in June? Luckily we don’t have a show tonight so I can down some Nyquil and pass out.” She pushes herself off the couch, removing her party hat and affixing it to the top of my head. She offers me a mischievous smile before continuing. “Also, wear some‐ thing nice tonight. Daphni booked you two dinner at Fiola. GUARDING HER HEART 81

You’re meeting your sister at eight forty-five sharp in the lobby.” I roll my eyes and stuff another oversized forkful of pancake into my mouth. “Oh, Daphni booked it, did she?” We both know Melissa does all the heavy lifting and Daphni shows up looking pretty, taking all the credit. Melissa playfully shoves me. “Yes, she did. So go out and buy yourself a cute dress for tonight, birthday girl.” I nod in agreement and Melissa waves goodbye before stepping out the door. I continue to eat my pancakes until I feel a dull ache in my stomach, signaling defeat. Unlike Daphni, who enjoys month-long birthday celebrations, I had never really enjoyed all the fanfare that came with birthdays. I still remember with bitterness how my mother had invited People magazine to cover my tenth birthday party: an elabo‐ rate princess-themed affair where she had insisted I have three costume changes complete with photo shoots for each look. I never even got a chance to eat the damn cake. After that fiasco, I had insisted that my birthday celebra‐ tions be of my choosing. From then on, all my birthdays had included dinner with Daphni and Lawrence, followed by the three of us eating cake in bed and watching cheesy rom-coms. As Lawrence had gone off to boarding school, then college, and Daphni left for tour, I had spent more and more of my birthdays alone. Instead of dinners out with my siblings, it had become Chinese takeout in my apartment. The whole binging on cake in bed, however, was a tradition that was still going strong. A perk of being solo on my birthday was more cake for me. The prospect of spending an uninterrupted evening with my sister, however, is enough to motivate me to go shopping. Since her apology, we haven’t really been able to spend too much one-on-one time together, and I was looking forward to bringing back some of our old birthday traditions. 82 JADE WEBB

I shower and dress and a short hour later, I’m walking the cobblestone streets of Georgetown, smoothie in hand, on a mission to find the perfect dress for tonight. It’s one of those gross, humid days, and the oppressive heat has me ducking into a different store every fifteen minutes to take full advan‐ tage of their air conditioning. I make my way toward my favorite boutique, Promises, and rush inside, grateful again for the relief of the air condi‐ tioning. I mindlessly rifle through the racks, waiting to fall in love with a dress, but disappointed to find that every dress has one ruffle or rhinestone too many. The last three stores were all similar disappointments, and I am beginning to lose hope when I spot a mannequin dressed in a gold and white dress out of the corner of my eye. The dress is stunning: a strapless bodice, encased in gold sequins, stopping right at the waist before transitioning into flowing white gossamer. Ending right at the knee, the dress feels like the perfect marriage of elegant and sexpot. “Gorgeous, right?” A chipper voice at my right interrupts my gawking. I tear my eyes away and look at the perky blonde sales assistant standing in front of me. “It’s beautiful,” I agree. “Well, try it on!” I shake my head. “No, I couldn’t. No way I can pull that off.” She gently pushes me in the direction of the changing rooms at the back of the store. “Nonsense. Go to the changing rooms and I’ll bring you the dress.” She surveys me quickly, her blue eyes trailing up and down my body. “Size six, right?” I nod, impressed by her quick assessment, and walk over to the line of small booths, cordoned off by rich, velvet curtains. I slide into the one on the edge, pull the curtain closed, kick off my sneakers, and drop my bag on the floor. I GUARDING HER HEART 83 take one last slurp of my smoothie before depositing it by my bag. The sales attendant arrives a moment later, handing me the dress through the curtain. I take another moment to admire it, fingering the delicate sequins and holding it against me. Casting my reflection a wary smile, I convince myself to at least try it on. I slide out of my shorts and top and slip out of my lace bralette. I gingerly step into the dress, momentarily panicking as it coasts over what my mother had not-so-affectionately called my “birthing hips.” I am relieved when the dress, with a little shimmying, slips over my hips, and I arch my arm over my back to zip it closed. I turn to look in the mirror and take a deep swallow of breath. This dress might be one of the most gorgeous items of clothing I have ever worn. It hugs every curve, and the sequined bodice generously accentuates and highlights my cleavage. It’s subtly sexy, and I’m kind of impressed with how good I look. It’s a welcome change from my usual boring uniform of jeans and whatever top I pulled out of the laundry basket. I pull out the tag and momentarily balk at the $250 price tag. Even though my credit card bills are still paid for by my father, I have been on a strict, self-imposed budget for the past three years. I had gone through a bit of a reality check after my freshman year, when I had first lived on my own and realized the lifestyle I had grown up with was going to seriously exceed the salary I would be bringing in as a defense attorney. Since that unpleasant reality check, I had been on a conscious path to living within the average college student’s budget. This dress cost almost my entire monthly food budget. But then again, $250 was pocket change to my family, and although that wasn’t reason enough to drop that much for a party dress, it was my birthday. And more impor‐ tantly, it was going to be the first time in a while my sister and I had done any kind of sisterly bonding, and wasn’t that worth celebrating with a kick-ass, amazing dress? 84 JADE WEBB

Sadly that was all it took to convince myself to bring the dress home. I unzip myself out of the dress and stumble back into my clothes. Before I can change my mind, I hand the dress back to the eager sales attendant waiting for me. “I’ll take it.” CHAPTER FIFTEEN

t’s just after eight thirty in the evening when I finally finish blowing out and running a brush through my I thick hair. Usually I am far too unmotivated to actually blow-dry my hair, preferring to let it air dry rather than undergoing an upper-arm workout for the thirty minutes it takes to fully dry my mess of hair. Tonight, however, I need to give my birthday dress the proper respect it deserves and make sure the rest of me looks equally as good. Satisfied that my hair will survive the humidity outside thanks to all the product I loaded in it, I slip on the dress and step into a pair of gold heels the sales attendant had insisted I “needed” to go along with the dress. After convincing me on the shoes, she had insisted that I pop into Sephora and ask for a “bronze-gold foiled eye and a nude lip.” As she cashed me out, she even wrote on the back of the receipt detailed instructions for the makeup artist at Sephora on what to give me. When I had finally made my way into Sephora, sweaty and looking like a lost puppy, they had taken pity on me and loaded me up an entire basket with detailed instructions on how to use each product. About five YouTube tutorials and 86 JADE WEBB an hour later and I am pretty impressed with the eye makeup I’m currently rocking. True, it took me like seven times to get it right, but for an amateur, I’m feeling pretty proud. And, another look in the mirror confirms for me that I actually do look freaking amazing. Even more importantly, I feel amazing. I am excited for Daphni to see me. Like my mother, she has artfully mastered the “perpetually disappointed” look she gives when she sees me in my jeans and T-shirts. They thought I was “wasting my potential,” but I thought they were wasting theirs by spending hours primping each day. But looking in the mirror now, I can’t help but wonder if maybe there was a happy medium. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to maybe put a bit more effort into how I look. I had always so strongly protested against wanting to appear superficial and been so shy in the spotlight that I had purposefully gone out of my way to draw attention away from myself. But in all of that work, I had also lost a lot of my confidence. Looking back now, and feeling as amazing as I feel now, I can’t help but wonder, had it all been worth it? I decide to leave all the heavy, philosophical nonsense for later. I have a date with my sister and I need to finish getting ready. Truthfully, I am just so excited to have a whole night with her. Daphni always had a way of bringing me out of my shell, and with all the months of studying, internships, and late nights writing papers, I’m actually really excited for a proper night out. Hell, I could even be convinced to go dancing. I hadn’t seen Daphni all afternoon, but had just assumed she had been nursing another hangover from last night. Still, knowing my sister, she would rally and still look absolutely incredible tonight. I wasn’t worried that she would bail: Melissa would absolutely kick her ass if she were even ten minutes late. GUARDING HER HEART 87

I give myself one last look in the mirror before grabbing my gold clutch—another item the sales attendant had insisted I “needed”—and heading down to wait for her in the lobby. Once downstairs, I grab a seat across the elevator doors. It’s just five minutes after eight thirty and knowing my sister, she will be making a fashionably late entrance. I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs as I deftly avoid all the curious stares from everyone walking by. I am not used to being the center of attention, and it unnerves me. I’m almost eager for Daphni to arrive now so she can detract all this attention and give me back the shadows I like to lurk comfortably in. After another ten minutes, I shoot off a quick text to Lawrence to check in. In true fashion, he promptly responds and gives me an update on how my adorable niece is doing. That kills another minute. At eight forty, I start getting nervous. I make a snap deci‐ sion to just go to Daphni’s room and check on the delay. Honestly, I had wanted her to first see me in the lobby so she could appreciate my dramatic makeover, but now I’m starting to get an anxious knot in the pit of my stomach. Still, I know there is no way she will ditch me. Not on my birthday. Once outside her room, I press my ear against the door and knock loudly when I don’t hear anything. After a few loud knocks, I press my ear against the door again. Still nothing. The nervous pit in my stomach keeps getting deeper. There was no way I missed her on the elevator ride up, and Daphni is never in any shoe under four inches, so there is no way she took the stairs down eighteen flights. Once outside her room, I bang my fist on the door even harder and shout her name into the thick oak. 88 JADE WEBB

“Gabby!” I whip my head around at the sound of my name to see Liam standing behind me in the doorframe of his hotel suite, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a dark T-shirt. His dark hair is tousled, which miraculously only manages to make his whole “just getting out of bed” look a thousand times sexier. God, I hate how much I love looking at him. “Oh, Liam,” I say, a bit embarrassed that he caught me physically assaulting this door. “Hi. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” He very clearly wipes the sleep out of his eyes as he smiles and shakes his head. “I was taking a little nap. Your sister can run laps around me so I try to sneak in some sleep when I can.” He stretches his arms over his head, giving me the tiniest glimpse of his toned stomach, and I force myself to drag my eyes away and focus on the blinking light of the smoke detector up ahead for a few seconds before allowing myself to bring my eyes back to his. “So, are you looking for your sister?” he asks, an amused smile on his lips as he watches me. “Yeah, I tried knocking a few times,” I say, gesturing to the door as if he didn’t just see me ten seconds ago knocking on it. “She must be in the bathroom or something.” Shaking his head slowly, Liam knits his brow in confu‐ sion. “Gabby, she went with Drizzle to Richmond. He had some performance at a club. They left a few hours ago.” The gnawing feeling of dread I had been pushing away rushes toward me. Though I’m not an idiot and know this is Daphni’s typical MO, I still can’t believe it. I can’t believe she would pull her disappearing act on me and on my freaking birthday. I let out a woosh of air and lean back against the pink floral wallpapered wall. Though all I want is to melt into the wall behind me and wallow in tears and self-pity, I instead paste on a smile and GUARDING HER HEART 89 do my best to hide my disappointment. I blink back my tears and take in a deep breath. I can see Liam still watching me, a mix of confusion and concern on his face. Though I hate that he obviously feels worried about me, I admire the way he wears his emotions on his face. He doesn’t feel the need to hide how he feels. And even though it’s a stupid thing to be jealous of, I still can’t help but wish I was brave enough to do the same one day. But today is not that day. So I decide to pull myself together and do my best to offer a nonchalant shrug. “I thought we had plans for tonight,” I explain. “John went with them tonight,” Liam explains, and gestures back to his room. “Do you want me to call him for you? So you can speak with Daphni?” “Oh, no. That’s actually the last thing I want.” I can’t help but let out a frustrated moan. “You know, I should have known she would do something like this. I finally get the chance to have a night out with my sister, go to some fancy restaurant and feel special for just one night, and she runs off to watch her boyfriend scream into a mic about his daddy issues.” I push off the wall so I can kick off my heels. I know I’m ranting, but I can’t stop myself. “You would think she could manage to not pull this bullshit just one day of the year. But no, she even has to pull her magical disappearing act on my birthday. You know, I shouldn’t really be that surprised,” I say as I unstrap the buckle on my heel. “She did this before, a couple of years ago. I had decided to fly out to Ibiza to meet up with her. “It will be fun,” she had said. And then I show up and she had already flown out. Like who…” The feel of Liam’s fingers gently wrapping my arm as I’m bent down, unfastening my heels and full-on ranting, finally silences me. I tilt my head up to look at him, and the intense look on his face knocks me off my axis and I slip back. His 90 JADE WEBB arm tightens as he steadies me and helps me back up to a standing position. “Gabby, it’s your birthday today?” I nod slowly, my breath faltering at the intensity of his steel-grey eyes piercing into mine. Damn. Up close, his eyes are even more noticeable and I can see how his iris fades from a dark grey around the outer edges into a soft, almost light blue hue around his pupil. They’re so clear and when they’re focused on me, it feels like gravity is momentarily suspended and all I can see is his eyes staring back at me. I could happily drown in his eyes. “Give me five minutes,” he says, interrupting the soliloquy I had been crafting in my head dedicated to his deep pools of gorgeous steel-grey and blue. His fingers abruptly leave my arm and I feel a twinge of surprise at how the sudden loss of his touch affects me. I watch, confused, as he ducks back into his room, the door closing behind him. I awkwardly wait, dangling my heels in my hand. Liam has a habit of completely confounding me and tonight is no different. My stomach starts to rumble, and I consider the delivery options within a five-mile radius. I am in a fierce debate between shrimp Pad Thai and Korean tacos when Liam’s door opens and he steps out into the hallway. In the five minutes it had taken me to sort through dinner options, he had somehow managed to trade his flan‐ nels for black dress pants, and his T-shirt for his trademark fitted black button-down. He had even added a skinny black tie and had styled his hair. It was both incredibly frus‐ trating and satisfying to know that he could transform into a sexy, Scottish Abercrombie model in less than ten minutes. “Uh, Liam?” I ask as, a bit confused, as my eyes greedily rake over him, enjoying this new look on him. He doesn’t respond and instead simply reaches for my GUARDING HER HEART 91 hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm, and guides me back toward the elevator. As I see where he is directing me, I stop my steps. “Liam, you really don’t have to…” “Ah, dinnae fash yersel.” I can’t help but quirk a confused smile. “Translation?” “Don’t fuss yourself. Let this just be a fun night out to celebrate your birthday.” “You really don’t have to do this. It’s your night off, and I know I woke you up. And truthfully, I’m okay with some takeout and I am pretty sure I spotted some Twinkies in my mini-fridge, so I am good to go.” “Gabby, put on your damn shoes and let’s go.” I feel my mouth drop open and a satisfied smile inches over Liam’s face. Before I can utter a sound, he raises his finger to silence me and points at the watch on his wrist. I direct my best glare at him, which only seems to amuse him more, before I drop my shoes to the ground and slip into them, kneeling down to tie the dainty buckle on the side. Back in a standing position, Liam places his hand on the small of my back and gently pushes me toward the elevator. As the elevator doors close, I move to step out of his touch. I doubt he notices, but every time I am near him, it feels like I’m swallowed into his vortex. It’s both completely overwhelming and intoxicating. “So where are is your reservation for?” he asks, breaking the silence. “This place called Fiola. But the reservations were for nine, so we missed it already.” “Nay, we’ll be fine. It’s just a suggested time.” Before I can argue his inane logic, the doors open and we step out onto the marble lobby floors. Again, Liam rests his hand on my lower back as we make our way through the lobby. Though he is barely touching me, it’s as if my entire 92 JADE WEBB body is humming from the anticipation of what his actual touch would feel like. It’s then that I realize that even though I have sworn off relationships until after I graduate from law school, there really is a part of me that wants to explore whatever this feeling is with Liam. A primal need to uncover exactly what it is about this man that sets my body ablaze and muddles all the thoughts in my head. I want to see more than just a peek beneath his shirt, I want to see every ridge and contour of his body. I want to taste him, feel his weight on top of me, feel his fingers on my… “Gabby?” At the sound of my name, I feel a rush of heat race up my chest, neck, and face, and I’m sure every single thought in my head is now visible on my face. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. “Gabby? You okay?” Liam asks again, his eyes narrowing down at me. I shake my head in a crude attempt to free it of every sinful thought of Liam. I take a deep breath and offer him a smile, “All good.” He gestures to the open door of the cab and I jump inside. As he makes his way over to the opposite door, I give myself a quick pep talk to get my shit together and come back to Earth. One look at Liam is enough to tell me that he is a man who takes sophisticated and gorgeous women to his bed. Women who don’t spend their Friday nights watching BBC documentaries, highlighting text books and color-coding flashcards. And as much as it pains me to admit it, deep down I know there’s no way that someone with his inked muscular body, sexy smile and fuckable accent would ever go for a bumbling, constantly anxious, neurotic nerd who can’t even get her own sister to show up for her damn birthday. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

s we ride to the restaurant, I can’t pull my eyes away from Gabby. Somehow, in the time between A the elevator ride and boarding the cab, a dark cloud descended, and I can see the sadness all over her. I want to call Daphni right now and demand she get her ass back here, but I know that would humiliate Gabby even more and I can’t bear to do that. All I want is to put a smile on her face again. A genuine smile—not one of those fake ones she constantly wears to keep everyone around her off her tracks. I want to ask her what is making her so sad, but I already know the answer. I am not her sister, and though I’m sure she appreciates the gesture of me taking her out tonight, I am not the one she wants sitting across the table from her. I need to put my ego aside, though, and suck it up. Though I may not be her first choice, I sure as hell am going to make sure she has a fun night. I play a perfect gentleman and make sure to open the door of the cab for her as we pull up to the restaurant. She insists on paying for the cab but I beat her to it. A sad part of 94 JADE WEBB me enjoys this: the feeling of us being on a real date, even though I know it’s just a delusion. A quick look at Gabby shows that she is clearly enjoying this a lot less than me. And why would she enjoy it? She was hoping for a fun night out with her sister and instead got stuck with the help. And still, I’m pulled toward her. So when we walk the thirty feet toward the restaurant, I hover my hand again over Gabby’s lower back, knowing full well that it’s a pathetic excuse to touch her. But I can’t keep fighting this inexplic‐ able pull to be near her, to be touching her. As we make our way to the hostess stand, I lose any decent excuse to have my hand still on her, so I reluctantly drop it to my side. The restaurant itself is small and intimate and a far cry away from any of my normal haunts. I was a guy who preferred ordering off a menu that included pictures and where beer was on tap. A quick look at this place showed me I was clearly out of my element. The damn tablecloths probably had a higher thread count than the sheets rumpled on the corner of my mattress back in my one-bedroom flat. Gabby confirms the reservation and the hostess ushers us to a small, intimate table in front of a large bay window overlooking the street. It’s the best table in the restaurant by far, and I am sure it had every‐ thing to do with the person who made the reservation. After we are seated, the hostess hands us our menus, her smile never faltering. “Welcome to Fiola. We were expecting your sister as well, will Daphni be joining you?” I bite my tongue as I watch Gabby offer the hostess a forced smile. “Unfortunately, she won’t be able to.” The hostess nods, her smile fading. She is obviously disappointed, and was most likely eagerly awaiting her chance to meet the pop star. The hostess’ disappointment isn’t lost on Gabby, and I see a flash of annoyance in her eyes. As the hostess steps away, Gabby calls back out to her. GUARDING HER HEART 95

“Wait—Daphni did leave her card when she made the reservation tonight, right?” Gabby asks, and the hostess nods in response. “Perfect. My sister really regrets that she can’t make it tonight so she wanted to put the whole meal—and a very generous tip—on her card,” Gabby explains. “Oh, yes of course,” the hostess responds, her smile returning as she shuffles away. I watch amused as Gabby opens the wine menu, trailing her finger down the list. As she reads, a mischievous smile dances across her face. “I am feeling like a nice Pol Roger tonight,” she comments before closing the menu. I check out the menu myself and quirk a brow as I read the $725 price tag on the bottle. “Excellent choice,” I comment, returning her conspirato‐ rial smile. The waiter soon arrives and we place our orders, including our bottle of champagne. I’m pretty hungry, but apparently my appetite is no match for Gabby’s. Either she has not eaten for several days, or she is eager to run up a four-digit bill as a “screw you” to her sister. I try and stick with one of the cheaper entrees but Gabby overrides it and orders the steak and lobster for me. I don’t even bother arguing when I see the wide smile cross over her face as the waiter scribbles down her long order. It's the first time I have seen her with a genuine smile this evening, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that. The waiter returns promptly with the bottle of cham‐ pagne and with great fanfare, uncorks it, pouring two generous flutes of the bubbly liquid. Lifting her glass, Gabby clinks her flute with mine. “Sláinte!” She declares, before tipping her glass back and emptying it in one giant gulp. 96 JADE WEBB

I take a more measured sip before setting my glass down on the table as Gabby pours herself a second glass. “How do you know sláinte?” I ask. Gabby shrugs nonchalantly as she takes another long sip. “I traveled a bit through Scotland during college and did some work in Glasgow, so I spent a lot of time in the pubs there with my roommates from the hostel.” She smiles as she takes another sip. “Your people like to drink.” I laugh and drop my elbows onto the table. “So, what kind of work did you do?” I ask, wanting to know more. “I did some volunteering with Oxfam,” Gabby says dismissively. “How about you, what kind of work did you do before you were stuck babysitting my sister?” I pause before answering and let my eyes linger a bit longer on her. My attention doesn’t go unnoticed and, under my assessment, she suddenly decides to focus on the napkin in her lap. “How come you don’t like to talk about yourself?” I finally ask her. I had debated pushing the question aside in favor of politeness, but I was too curious to know the answer. Time and time again, I had seen her deftly avoid any personal questions, always steering the questions back to her sister or Melissa or anyone else she spoke to. Gabby fascinated me. She was, in some ways, so easy to read and in others, a cryptic puzzle that I was dying to solve. The question catches her off guard and she looks up from her napkin. “I don’t mind talking about myself,” she counters. “Every time I ask you something, you somehow manage to direct it back to me. And it’s not just me—I’ve seen you do it with everyone.” “I don’t do…” she protests, before stopping mid-sentence. She lifts her head thoughtfully before bringing her eyes back to me. “Yeah, I guess I do kind of do that.” She chuckles lightly before leaning back in her chair. “I guess I never GUARDING HER HEART 97 noticed.” She directs a playful glare to me. “And no one ever called me out on it before.” I can’t help but laugh in return. “You’re easy to read, Gabby.” With my words, her smile drops off her face and I see her square her shoulders, her body tensing up as the walls around her that had begun to come down instantly surround her again. Fuck. “No, what I meant to say is, you have these tells about you. Sometimes I can just see what you’re feeling. Not all the time, just sometimes.” I grip my jaw and run my hand along the stubble dotting my chin, hoping that I can stop running my mouth and shut up for two fucking seconds. We sit in an awkward silence for what feels like hours. I try focusing my attention on the incredibly fascinating set of forks in front of me, begging for the stupid waiter to return again with the fifty appetizers Gabby ordered. “I guess it’s a bad habit,” Gabby’s soft voice breaks through the silence. I look up at her sad eyes and have to physically restrain myself from not covering her smaller hand in mine. More than my need to touch her is my desire to comfort her, to be the man who gets to reassure her. It’s stupid, but it’s a strong feeling and hard to push away. “Growing up as Daphni’s sister, no one ever really seemed to care what I had to say. It was never as interesting compared to you know, ‘world-famous pop star Daphni Monroe,’” she shares, and it’s like I can see all the bricks of the barricade she had constructed around herself come crashing down. She is sharing something real with me and offering me a piece of herself that I could sense she had not given to many. I nod thoughtfully. I am scared to fuck this moment up. I can see that she is letting me in and I don’t want to say the 98 JADE WEBB wrong thing. Before I can think of an appropriate response, I blurt out, “Well, I think you’re fucking fascinating.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop myself, and realize how much of a bloody idiot I must sound like to her. An adorable blush races up her cheeks and I spot the faintest smile. It makes me want to smile like some lovesick fool. The effect this woman has on me is completely throwing me off kilter. I push back my smile and force myself to say something, anything, before I completely lose myself and start giggling like a bloody school girl. “So, tell me, Gabby, how you came to find yourself in my humble home country.” Gabby’s face lights up and she takes another long sip of her champagne. “I was in Glasgow. It’s such a beautiful city. I was backpacking through the UK on a summer break and I ended up meeting this woman in my hostel who was working with Oxfam. They were beginning to get an influx of refugees from Syria and needed translation help. I had studied Arabic in high school and undergrad, so I decided to stop traveling and stay in Glasgow for a bit with Oxfam helping with their refugee-resettlement work.” I’m assuming she catches the look of surprise on my face and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat before self- consciously taking another long sip of her drink. “So you canceled your vacation to volunteer instead?” I ask. “Well…I wouldn’t put it quite like that. But essentially, yes.” I can’t help but let my eyes linger on her. I thought I had her pegged. Shy, book smart, a bit of a loner, but utterly brilliant. Incredibly beautiful. Sexy and completely unaware of how dangerous the effects of the sway of her hips, the dip of her breasts, were on men. And she was also a humanitarian who favored volunteer work over touring GUARDING HER HEART 99

Europe. How does this woman share any DNA with her sister? “Well, maybe you’re not so easy to read,” I say with a slight chuckle. I watch as Gabby runs her long finger over the rim of her glass. Her expression is hard to read. She looks almost…disappointed. “I mean, what is a billionaire heiress doing slumming in hostels in Glasgow volunteering with refugees?” That comment pulls a smile to her face. She playfully rolls her eyes before taking another sip from her glass. “Just because my family is full of billionaires doesn’t mean I’m one. And it doesn’t mean I don’t work hard and like to give back!” she huffs out, before finishing the remaining contents of her glass. Impulsively I cover her hand in mine, sending a surge of heat through me. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Gabby. It’s just that sometimes you confuse me.” “Oh,” she responds softly and I catch a hint of disappoint‐ ment flicker in her features. I can tell those weren’t exactly the words she wanted to hear from me. Taking advantage of my hand over hers, I trace the pad of my thumb over her hand until she finally drags her eyes up to meet mine. “I like being confused,” I say, my voice husky and hungry. We stare at each other like that for a long moment, both not saying a single word. We are locked in our silence and I swear we are both holding our breaths. All I can feel is this surge of energy passing between us. We sit in this spell until I hear the waiter clearing his throat at the side of our table. I pull my hand away and manage to shake off whatever effect being this close to Gabby has on me. I have to remember: this is not a date. This woman is the little sister of my boss. This cannot fucking happen. 100 JADE WEBB

I decide to focus all my attention on the elaborate plates coming my way. Dishes teeming with scallops wrapped in bacon, samplers of caviar, and platters of some other weird, fancy shit soon cover the table. As soon as the waiter steps away, Gabby grabs her fork to spear a scallop. She erupts in giggles as the fork misses her mouth, and it’s only then that I notice the nearly empty bottle of champagne. Shit. I haven’t refilled my glass yet, so that means the majority of the bottle is currently swimming through Gabby’s blood‐ stream now. I know I’m not technically on the job right now, but I still feel weird drinking. I can keep up with the best of them, but judging from that moment we shared a few seconds ago, at least one of us needs to be in control tonight. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

use a crusty piece of bread to scoop up the last of the juice from my steak and let out a disappointed moan at I my empty plate. For the past hour, I have been enjoying the most incredi‐ ble, most life-changing meal I have ever had. And surpris‐ ingly enough, it wasn’t the juicy piece of meat that had cost more than my damn shoes that made this meal so incredible. No, it was the beguiling, confusing, hilarious woman sitting across from me. She is in one breath so cultured and intelli‐ gent and in another, so innocent and curious. Her passion for life is downright fucking inspiring. I swear I catch the same look of disappointment cross her face when she sets her own fork down on her plate. I can tell that we are both in new territory here. Going straight from high school to the Marines did not leave me a lot of time to date. And I admittedly was not the type to wine and dine a girl. My priorities had always been on my work and my family. Despite the urgings of my very enthusiastic mother, I never could sustain enough interest in a woman for more 102 JADE WEBB than a few weeks. And never before had a woman captivated me as much as the one sitting across from me tonight. Fuck, I want this woman. Specifically I want her in my bed. My permanent semi-hard cock straining against my belt buckle is broadcasting that fucking loud and clear. But it’s more than that: I want to continue talking with her, laughing with her, listening to her passionate debates on the merits of toffee ice cream. And that is what bothers me the most. Because I know just one taste of Gabby will never be enough. The question now is: am I enough of a masochist to say “fuck it” and take it? Damn the consequences tomorrow? Or do I finally admit to myself that there is no logical world where someone like Gabby Monroe would even consider being with someone like me? “So,” Gabby says, interrupting my thoughts with her whispered breath. She runs her delicate finger across the rim of the glass and she looks up at me from behind her thick lashes. She somehow manages to look both so innocent and so seductive, and it makes every single muscle in my body tick. I recognize the look on her face. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. The penetrating gaze she gives me, the way she licks her lips. She wants me. And I would be a fool not to take her up on it. Every inch of my body is screaming at me to take her. But I can also see the rosy flush in her cheeks and the empty bottle of champagne on the table and that is enough to stop me. Forget the fact that her sister is the one signing my paychecks, and that I would have to be a fucking idiot to screw this gig up. Daphni, not Gabby, has to be my priority this summer. I need to shut this down. I offer Gabby a tight-lipped smile and wave the waiter over. “I think we’re ready to go,” I tell him and he nods curtly before scurrying away. Across the table, I can see a tentative smile sneak up GUARDING HER HEART 103

Gabby’s face and I instantly realize my mistake. Fuck. She thinks me rushing to get out of the restaurant is my way of telling her that I fully intend on taking her back to my hotel room to do all the dirty, wonderful, sinful things she is promising me with her eyes. Just the thought that Gabby even remotely wants this causes my dick to harden even more, and I make a half-hearted effort to tuck the bastard away. The waiter rushes back with the check, handing it to Gabby. A pleased smile at the damage rises to her face and she signs the check after adding, I’m sure, a very generous tip. “Are you ready to go?” I ask her. She nods and pushes her chair back before standing. And because my eyes haven’t left her for a second since I caught her pounding on her sister’s door, I notice the way she fumbles out of her seat and catches herself on the back of the chair as she stands. The girl is tipsy at best. She throws me a shy smile over her shoulder and I quickly step toward her so I can guide her out of the restaurant without her completely crumbling to the ground. With my hand guiding her, I lead her out of the restau‐ rant. Outside, I let the valet know we need a cab and he hails one. After helping Gabby get inside, I slide in next to her and pass along the name of our hotel to the driver. As the driver takes a sharp left, Gabby tumbles against me, her hand landing on my thigh. I instantly feel my body tense, and it takes all my willpower to remove her hand, gently placing it on the seat between us. As I break our contact, she turns away and I can feel her hurt and confusion. It makes me feel like such an asshole. I kick myself for being so reckless and letting the wrong parts of my anatomy guide me this evening. I had let my walls down, flirted with this girl, and let her get under my skin. 104 JADE WEBB

And only when my plate was cleared did I finally realize that this was a colossal fucking mistake. There is no way I can focus on my job protecting Daphni if I'm constantly distracted by her younger sister. I need this job and I desper‐ ately need the money. There is too much on the line to risk it all. We finally arrive back to the hotel after fifteen agonizing minutes of silence. We continue our silent march as we walk to the elevators and I press the button for her floor. My plan is to walk her to her door, make sure she gets inside safely, and then run like hell out of there. After what feels like an eternity, we arrive to the floor and I follow behind Gabby as she walks to her hotel room. She pulls her key out of the bag on her wrist and slides it into the door. She hesitates briefly before opening the door and I swear I can hear the wheels turning in her head. Turning around to face me with the door to her room slightly ajar, she tells me, “You know, I have cake in my room.” I clench my jaw but try to keep my face relaxed. “Gabby, I—" “It’s just cake, Liam. Besides, it’s my birthday. You can’t have me eating my birthday cake all alone now, can you?” she asks in a teasing tone. My walls collapse: she looks so nervous and hopeful, and the thought of disappointing her breaks my last fragment of self-control. I shake my head and offer her a smile. “Sure, of course,” I reply, and I follow her inside. I stand awkwardly by the door and trail her with my eyes as she kicks off her heels and marches over to the mini- fridge. Her hotel room is similar to mine, with a large living room with a couch, television, and kitchenette. A closed door leads off to the bedroom, and I have to physically restrain GUARDING HER HEART 105 myself from hauling Gabby over my shoulder a second time and kicking the door open to her bedroom. “Ta da!” Gabby announces as she opens a white box to reveal a small, circular, bright-pink birthday cake. It has a single candle perched on the top next to a flower made of icing. Laying it on top of the coffee table, Gabby drops down onto the couch and looks over to me. “Do you want to have a seat?” she asks. I nod, realizing how ridiculous I look huddled in the corner. I take a seat a few inches away and pull a lighter out of my pocket to light the short candle. Gabby rewards me for the small gesture with a beaming smile, and it makes me feel like I rescued a box of kittens from drowning in a well. “Time to make a wish,” I tell her as I hold the cake up to her. Closing her eyes, Gabby leans forward, pursing her lips together. In the dim light of the room, the flickering candle illuminates the softness of her face and her full, lush lips. Those fucking lips will kill me. Plump and pink, I want to reach out and run the pad of my thumb over them. I want to feel them crushed under mine as I devour her mouth with hungry kisses. I want to see them wrapped around the thick‐ ness of my hard— “Liam?” Gabby’s voice pulls me out of my depraved reverie. I shoot her a quizzical look. “Eh?” “Cake? You want a slice of cake?” “Cake, yeah right. Please.” She takes the cake from me and cuts me a piece, carefully placing it on a round ceramic plate before handing it to me. She cuts another piece for herself and then leans back into the plush couch cushions. A loud moan escapes her lips and I angle my face to watch her. Her eyes are closed, and she is licking the plastic 106 JADE WEBB fork clean, her tongue darting out to catch every last speck of icing. I force myself to look away and focus on the cake on my plate. I shovel it into my mouth in two quick bites and place the plate on the glass coffee table with a loud clang. “You want another piece?” Gabby asks as she sees my empty plate. She is not even done with hers yet, still taking her time and enjoying every taste. “No, I’m good. I think I’m actually going to head out. You know, long day tomorrow.” I start to push up off the couch but Gabby shoots her hand out to catch my arm. “Wait.” She brings her plate down to the table and turns to look at me. “Thank you so much for tonight,” she says, as she trails her hand down my arm. Though my brain is screaming at me to run away, my fucking body won’t listen. Instead it collapses into the couch below me, my only lifeline the feeling of Gabby’s hand on my arm. I do nothing but watch as Gabby shifts on the couch, bringing her leg up to straddle me. She places her hands on my shoulders as she shifts her weight to settle her warm core on top of my eager cock. She lets out a soft gasp as she feels my cock prick up at the contact. Surprisingly, though, she doesn’t stop. With her eyes locked on mine, she leans forward and places a chaste, tentative kiss on my lips. Instantly all my senses are overwhelmed. The sweetness of her lips on mine, the flowery scent of her perfume, the searing-hot touch of her hands burning through my clothes, the gorgeous swirl of lust and desire in her eyes, and the sound of her breath mixing with mine. Everything about this girl is overpowering me, and I finally admit defeat and allow my body to submit. I lift my hand to grasp the back of her head, tangling my fingers through her hair and pulling her face closer to mine. My other GUARDING HER HEART 107 hand cups her ass, squeezing it, encouraging her to rub herself against me and give us both the release we desper‐ ately need. The second her lips are on mine a second time, I angle my face so I can take her kisses in more fully. I open my mouth, let my marauding tongue go free, and coax her lips to open to mine. The second she does, my tongue enters her. I have an overwhelming desire to conquer this woman the same way she has so obviously conquered me. When I feel her tongue dart out to meet mine, I grow even harder and I dig my fingers into her plump ass, encouraging her to keep grinding against me. A loud moan escapes her lips and it’s like my fucking Kryptonite. Instantly I’m pulled back to reality. A reality where my boss’ little sister, who is obviously drunk, is grinding herself on my hard dick. I feel a rush of anger and guilt as I realize that I am doing every goddamn thing I swore I wouldn’t be doing ten minutes ago. I jerk away, and a startled Gabby topples off me, landing on the couch beside me. “Gabby,” I start, my voice raw with desire. Sensing my change, Gabby scrambles off the couch. “No, Liam. It’s okay,” she cuts me off before I can finish. I rake my fingers through my hair and let out a huff of air in frustration. “Gabby, let me finish,” I demand. Ignoring me, she makes a beeline for the door, opening it to the hallway. “I’m good, Liam. I got a little out of control. I’m sorry,” she curtly replies. I stalk toward her. “Gabby, just listen to me! You are a great girl. You are but…Fuck, Gabby. I work for your sister and I need this job and this is so fucked up.” The words leave my mouth before I can even try to edit them. “Wait, that isn’t what I mean,” I try to quickly add, but the damage has already been done. I can see her eyes glistening, 108 JADE WEBB and it fucking destroys me to know that I have single-hand‐ edly made her birthday an even greater disaster. I open my mouth again but snap it closed when I see the obvious hurt all over face. I walk past her and step into the empty hallway as she quickly shuts the door behind me. Maybe it’s better that she hates me, I tell myself. If she hates me, it will be easier for me to resist her. But even as the words enter my head, I know it’s bullshit. Because resisting someone like Gabby Monroe is downright fucking impossible. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

he sound of a piercing chirping rips me out of my semi-comatose state. I feel every cell in my body T ache as I slowly open one, then both, of my eyes. The bright daylight seeping in through the windows is instantly making me regret not closing the blinds last night before collapsing into bed. My damn phone lets out another series of loud, obnox‐ ious chirps. I flail around in bed, trying to find it without lifting my head, which was buried under a pile of pillows. Defeated, I pick up my head and a flash of blinding white light makes me moan out loud. God, this is what it must feel like to be dying. I must be dying. That is the only possible explanation for the way I feel right now. I push through the pain and pick up my head again, forcing down the bile creeping up my throat, and finally locate my phone. It’s eleven o’clock and I already have six missed messages from Daphni. Another wave of nausea hits me and I know this isn’t going to pass as quickly. I scurry out of the bed and rush to the bathroom. As soon as I fall to my knees in front of the toilet, the contents of my three-course 110 JADE WEBB dinner, cake, and champagne glutton fest come roaring out. When I am finally convinced everything has been success‐ fully expelled from my stomach, I push myself up to the sink and splash cold water on my face. I look like hell, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to be in serious need of a liver trans‐ plant. I cannot afford to keep having mornings like these: my body wasn't made for this. I was made for early nights in bed with warm cups of tea and Hallmark movie marathons. I peer into the mirror and pull at the hardened clumps of dried icing coating my hair. It’s stuck in there, and a faint memory of falling asleep on top of my birthday cake returns to me. I start the shower and slip out of the long nightshirt I had thrown on backwards. I step into the waterfall shower and let the steaming hot water revive me. Unfortunately, the more time I spend in the shower, the more memories come flooding back, which makes me want to throw up all over again. Last night had been so confusing. First, I had been devas‐ tated because Daphni had completely blown me off. Then Liam had stepped in and totally swept me off my feet. He was so funny and smart and engaging. God, and so handsome. I mean, his arms alone had my mouth watering. But even that was nothing compared to his face. He has these chilling, steely grey eyes that seemed to see right through me. And even his stupid mouth was hypnotizing. Every smile he gave me tore a brick out of the barricade I had spent years expertly crafting around my heart. Something about meeting Liam had seemed to open a door inside of me, a door to possibility, to hope. And just as quickly as I had let him open those doors, he had shown me what an idiotic, trusting fool I had been. Threading my fingers through my hair as I wash the shampoo away, I kick myself for obsessing over him. God, GUARDING HER HEART 111 how would I ever be able to erase the images of last night, of his tortured face as he practically threw me off of him? He had looked so disgusted and upset, as if the thought of kissing me, of being with me, had physically repulsed him. As I turn the shower off and step onto the cool tile floor, I force myself to leave any thoughts of Liam behind. At least it’s better to know now that I completely disgust him. God forbid I had actually let myself fall for him and learned what an asshole he was a few weeks, or even months, from now. And, while admittedly he had managed to chip away at my walls, at least he hadn’t had the opportunity to completely tear them away and leave me as foolish and as lonely as so many of the women in my family have been. No, Liam has not broken my heart. He has not destroyed me. And damn it, he would certainly never get the opportunity. CHAPTER NINETEEN

hree days. Three fucking days that Gabby has been T avoiding me and her sister like the goddamn plague. Were it not for Melissa reassuring me, I would have assumed she had fled the country. I have no idea if Gabby even told Melissa what happened between us, but in my short time working with Melissa and seeing how she inter‐ acts with Daphni, I have learned that the woman is fucking Fort Knox, and trying to get information out of her is damn near impossible. If Gabby had told her about what an asshole I had been to her, Melissa is doing a good job of pretending that she doesn’t know a thing. I tell myself it’s for the best and that I need to focus on my job. Though that is bullshit, too. Truthfully, I am not protecting Daphni as much as I am simply babysitting her. The girl is a train wreck and surprisingly has been even more of a mess after realizing how pissed her sister was at her. I know she has been sending Gabby dozens of messages and that Gabby has been ignoring them all. I know because I GUARDING HER HEART 113 watch her type out each one and I see her frustration when she picks up her phone every ten minutes to check it for a response. Though in all honesty, I am not much better. Every break I have I use to try and find out where the hell Gabby has been hiding. When we left New York, we found out that Gabby had decided to stay an extra day in the city. Melissa had said it was because Gabby wanted to sneak in a study session with a tutor, but I had called bullshit. Gabby knew she couldn’t avoid me or her sister on a private jet. And when we had landed in Montreal for the next leg of the show, Gabby had conveniently missed her flight. But after overhearing Melissa on the phone giving the address of the hotel, I know she finally landed and is en route to the hotel now. Just knowing that Gabby and I are finally in the same fucking city has every single one of my nerves on edge. Every time I hear a door open or a phone ring, I feel my body react in hope that it’s Gabby. It’s really fucking pathetic. “What?” At the sound of Daphni’s screeching voice, I turn to see her red face contorted in anger as she jumps off the couch where she had been sitting with Melissa. “Daphni, please just hear me out,” Melissa pleads. “No way, Mel! This is my tour! No way am I going to let anyone take this from me!” Daphni continues to scream, her shrill voice growing louder with each word. “No one is taking the tour away from you, Daphni! But we need to be realistic, and we aren’t selling enough tickets to sustain the tour. We need to bring on Jordan James.” My ears perk up at the familiar name. I had heard about Jordan through my buddies also in the industry. Tyrone, an acquaintance of mine, had been hired as part of his security detail and he had complained all the time about him, calling him an entitled prick. He was a spoiled, over-privileged 114 JADE WEBB singer who partied all the time, was always ditching his secu‐ rity team, and scamming on his young fans. Basically, he had a pretty shit reputation. Tyrone had made it four months with him before finally quitting. Handling Daphni and her constant mood swings was enough work without adding the extra nuisance of babysitting another spoiled pop star man whore. “Fine, then! I quit. Good luck on a tour without your goddamn headliner!” Daphni screeches before taking a long swig from her water bottle. Melissa jumps up from the couch, throwing her hands in the air. “Daphni, enough! Either you accept that Jordan is on the tour and co-headlining or you cancel the tour and get sued by the label for breach of contract! You pick!” Melissa’s normally calm and serene voice is laced with frustration and finality. Daphni’s face pales at Melissa’s words. Collapsing back onto the couch, she lets out a frustrated growl. “Melissa, this was supposed to be my comeback tour. This was my chance to finally get it right. And now I have to share it with Jordan James? The Prince of Pussy? God, have I fallen this low?” She asks, her voice cracking. Melissa lays a gentle hand on top of Daphni’s. “Daphni, it is still your tour. But, we need Jordan to sell the remaining seats for the tour so we can keep it going. I’m sorry, hon.” “Fine,” Daphni finally concedes after a long moment. Melissa nods silently and rubs comforting circles on Daphni’s back. “Did you hear from her?” I hear Daphni ask Melissa after a long pause, her voice just above a whisper. Melissa nods her head. “She’s in the city.” “Will she come to my show tonight?” “I don’t think so, honey. She’s still pretty upset. You need to be the one to reach out.” GUARDING HER HEART 115

“I am reaching out! I sent her like ten texts!” Daphni protests. “Daphni, come on. You know your sister. She doesn’t want a text message.” “Well, what else am I supposed to do if she keeps running away?” Daphni asks. “Daphni, you know how Gabby is. This is her MO. When she’s hurt, she runs and hides. Can you really blame her?” Daphni lets out a bitter chuckle. “God, she’s going to hate me forever.” Daphni’s shoulders curve inward, making her look so small and weak. It’s then I see how these last few days have really destroyed her; she is looking more and more tired. There are deep, dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, and she looks like she’s lost a few more pounds off her tiny frame. I suppose learning that your mother’s dead, your sister hates you, and that you have to share your tour with a prick you hate all within the span of a few days can pretty much destroy anyone’s soul. I take a deep breath and walk over to Daphni and Melissa, sitting down on the edge of the couch. “Daphni, why don’t you try and do something special for her? Where it’s just the two of you? All she really wants is to spend time with you.” Melissa and Daphni’s heads turn to look at me in surprise, both having forgotten I was in the room. Melissa takes a moment before nodding at my words. “You know, he’s right, Daphni.” “Hmm,” Daphni ruminates before narrowing her eyes and shooting me a suspicious look. “And since you are now the ‘Gabby whisperer,’ what would you suggest, Liam?” I shrug my shoulders. “Gabby’s simple. She cares more about substance than style. Skip the fancy dinners, clubs— she’ll hate that. Think of what is important to your sister,” I answer. “What’s important to her,” Daphni echoes thoughtfully. 116 JADE WEBB

She pushes up from the couch and paces around the room. “Well, she loves puppies. She also has a weird obsession with goats, but whatever. Um, she likes to study.” She stops suddenly and looks at Melissa. “Mel, what’s the next stop after Canada? Isn’t it Columbus?” “Yes, it’s Columbus,” Melissa responds, her brow knitting in confusion as she tries to decipher Daphni’s plan. A wide smile spreads across Daphni’s face as she offers me a playful wink. “I have a favor to cash in and I think it will be just perfect.” CHAPTER TWENTY

s I ride the elevator down to the lobby, I can feel my stomach doing somersaults. I haven’t seen my A sister or Liam since New York and I know that my three-day streak of avoidance is going to inevitably end soon. I had already called Lawrence four times, begging for him to talk with dad and convince him this whole plan was terri‐ ble. Lawrence was sympathetic, but firm. If I wanted dad to bankroll law school, I had to stick it out. Nobody, however, had said that I actually needed to speak with my sister. So after three days of hibernating and licking my wounds in New York, I decided all I needed to do was survive this tour and lay low. Daphni would get distracted by Drizzle, or whatever other drama she could stir up, and Liam would be busy trailing after her. All I needed to do was hide out with my books and count down the days until I could escape. As the elevator dings open, I cautiously step out into the large lobby. Gleaming porcelain floors and expansive floor- to-ceiling windows frame the lobby, making me feel like 118 JADE WEBB

I’m walking into a giant fishbowl. I feel a small sense of relief when I realize I don’t recognize anybody. Especially anyone with fluorescent blue hair and a hulking Scottish brute dragging his knuckles behind her. I had planned my exit strategically, thanks to Melissa’s insider knowledge. According to Daphni’s schedule, she should be in the middle of her sound check for the concert tonight, which meant that I had a few hours to loiter about before retreating back to my hotel room for the evening and conveniently missing her altogether. Not that she would likely notice, anyways. Truthfully, I was anxious to get out of my hotel room. Though I had only been officially on the tour for one week, I had been cooping myself up in my hotel rooms studying. And while I still had dragged down my book to sneak in a few more hours of studying, it was a welcome change of scenery. Stopping by the café in the lobby, I order a large coffee and grab a muffin, then start searching for a comfortable chair to settle into. The lobby is surprisingly packed for two o’clock in the afternoon. I spot some prime real estate in the form of an overstuffed white leather chair tucked away in a far corner. Weaving through the maze of chairs and people, I throw my books down on the table in front of the chair, before collapsing into the seat with my drink. Instantly, I lean back in the chair, tucking my legs underneath, and take a long sip of the coffee—my fourth today. I let out a loud moan as soon as I feel the warm liquid slide down my throat. Caffeine addiction is real, folks. A soft chuckle instantly alerts me that I am not alone. Heat races across my cheeks as I slowly bring down the coffee cup and see the source of the laughter sitting directly across from me, only a few feet away. In my rush to claim GUARDING HER HEART 119 this chair, I had neglected to actually check and see if anyone else was around me. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I did not see you there,” I stutter and I shuffle my books, making room on the shared table between us for him. “It’s cool, don’t worry about it.” His voice is smooth and laced with confidence. Intrigued, I look up, raising my eyes to his face. He looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him. He’s actually pretty handsome, in a distinctly L.A. kind of way. Tufts of blonde hair peek out from a black beanie, and his eyes are hidden behind darkly tinted aviator sunglasses. He has a straight, angular jaw, and noticeably full, pouty, and oddly, kind of sexy, lips. The weathered plain T-shirt and nondescript grey, zippered hoodie layered over it almost make him look too put- together. His whole get-up, down to the subtle five o’clock shadow, scream “overpaid stylist” and I instantly feel my guard go up as I realize that he’s most likely part of the tour, and the last thing I want to do now is talk about Daphni or the stupid tour. Offering him a polite smile, I grab my book and flip it back open to where I had left off an hour ago. Plucking a pen out of the knot at the top of my head, I jot down notes in the corners as I read through the dense paragraphs. “Do you have the time?” His silky voice interrupts my reading and when I look up from my book, I find him leaning forward, looking directly at me. “Uh yeah, hold on a sec,” I respond as I dig my phone out of my pocket and flip it open. “It’s two twenty.” He chuckles at the sight of my phone and I fight back a smile at the sound of his laugh. There’s something about him that feels playful and light and makes me want to lower my walls, even for a little bit. I suppose it doesn’t hurt that he’s also incredibly gorgeous. Like suspiciously gorgeous. He 120 JADE WEBB looks like an all-American Abercrombie farm-country cowboy with a heart of gold mixed with hipster barista who writes poetry and adopted a blind, three-legged dog named Opie. It’s almost too much and yet, I can’t help but grin like an idiot when he smiles over at me. “That’s a nice antique you have there,” he teases as he offers me a sexy smirk, sending a rush of heat to all my lady bits. “Yeah, my sister has decided I am officially from the Stone Age.” He leans forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Well, you’ve got to love family.” I let out a quiet snort in response. No shit. He says nothing, and even though I can’t see his eyes behind his dark shades, I swear I can feel them on me as he surveys me from his seat. I shift uncomfortably in my seat under his gaze. Knowing I’m not likely to get any studying done with him surveying me so intently, I close my book. “So, where in L.A. are you from?” I ask him. “How do you know I’m from L.A.?” “Oh please," I say as I roll my eyes. "You’re wearing a beanie in the middle of the summer, I can see at least one tribal tattoo on your arm, and trust me, no one outside of L.A. would ever dare to wear sunglasses indoors.” Leaning back in his chair, he lets out a long breath. He takes off his sunglasses, revealing crystal-blue eyes, and hangs them on the collar of his shirt. “You’re good,” he comments, nodding approvingly. “Well, it’s not like it’s that difficult,” I respond with a playful smile. When he arches a curious brow, I continue, “Well, we’re in the middle of Montreal and one of the biggest pop stars is playing at the Bell Centre tonight, so you are either part of the band, a boyfriend of someone on the tour, or part of Drizzle’s crew.” GUARDING HER HEART 121

Chuckling, he nods thoughtfully before crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, I am most definitely not, nor will I ever be, in a crew belonging to someone named Drizzle. Also not part of any band. I prefer to run solo. And no, I don’t have a girlfriend.” I look at him again, both taken aback by his confidence and admittedly, a little intrigued. He makes his own interest obvious and lets his eyes trail over me in response. “Okay, fine. I’m intrigued then,” I tell him as I lock my eyes on his. “I am as well. You are obviously not from here either. What are you doing in this fine Canadian province?” I feel a knot form in my stomach at the innocent ques‐ tion. The last thing I want is for him to learn about my connection to Daphni. Long ago, I learned that when people find out who my sister is, I become a passing interest, just used to get a quick photo from the famed Daphni Monroe. “I’m here with my sister. She’s…part of the Renegade Love tour.” “Interesting. Who is your sister? Would I recognize her?” he asks. I shake my head. “Oh, no. She’s actually a backup dancer,” I say before taking a second to actually put a coherent lie together. “For Daphni.” I inwardly cringe as the words leave my mouth. I only hope that the lie is good enough to keep him from reading it on my face. “That is very interesting. Must be fascinating to tour with such a big pop star.” I shrug my shoulders, doing my best to act nonchalant. “She’s a super-good dancer, so she really just focuses on the craft of, you know, the dancing and twerking and whatnot.” He throws back his head, laughing. “Dancing and twerking and whatnot. Very astute description.” I can’t help but smile. “Really, that’s actually all her 122 JADE WEBB resume says. It’s just a picture of her with a caption that reads: ‘dancing, twerking, whatnot.’” He lets out another laugh and I can’t help but giggle along. My laugh cuts short the minute I hear the unmistak‐ able clicking sound of heels on the porcelain tiled floor. Though I know those heels could belong to anyone, the sound of another ten or twelve footsteps trailing behind confirms that it is most definitely the sound of my sister and her entourage rapidly approaching. I slink down in my seat, hoping that if I sink down into the chair enough, I will be able to disappear. I squeeze my eyes closed, wishing the handsome stranger across from me a permanent goodbye. It’s a shame I never learned his name, but probably for the best, because I am 99% sure that my sister is going to irreparably embarrass me in the next five seconds. The sound of the clicking heels stops right behind my chair. “Well, if it isn’t Jordan James, tour poacher, creeping on my little sister.” My eyes shoot open and I look at the man sitting across from me. I scoot back up in my seat. Though I will be the first one to admit that I am not the most well-versed in matters of popular culture, even I- a borderline recluse- have heard of bad boy Jordan James. Infamous for his extravagant vacations and having a new model on his arm each week, Jordan James is the epitome of the young Hollywood scene. God, I must look like such an idiot. How did I not recognize him? Even my eighty-year-old grandmother would have been able to recognize Jordan freaking James. “You’re Jordan James? How come you didn’t say anything?” A flash of guilt crosses his face as he shrugs his shoulders. “You never asked.” I push myself out of the seat and gather my books. “I GUARDING HER HEART 123 swear, my life’s mission is to make a complete ass out of myself in front of everyone I meet,” I declare to no one in particular. With my books in my arms, I dart away, quick‐ ening my pace the instant I see Liam trailing behind Daphni. I ignore Daphni calling out and scurry as quickly as I can back to the elevators. I press the button and curse when the doors don’t automatically open. “Gabby. Please stop!” I feel Daphni’s hand grip my arm as she pulls me to face her. “Gabby, please just hear me out,” she pleads. I let out an exasperated sigh. “What do you want to say, Daphni?” I see her blink her large, green eyes, and I realize with surprise that they’re brimming with moisture. “I need to tell you how sorry I am, Gabby. And that I want to make it up to you if you’ll let me.” I force a tight-lipped smile to my face and shrug my shoulders. “It’s fine, Daphni. No apology needed.” A single tear escapes her eye, trickling down her cheek. She bites down on her lower lip and brushes the tear off her face. “Gabby, I know I hurt you. I’m so sorry.” I feel myself soften and take a deep breath. “Daphni, you abandoned me on my birthday.” Daphni nods, her bright-blue curls shaking. “I know. And I know I can’t do anything to make it up to you. But I would like to try.” I look up and close my eyes. After a long moment, I look back at her and shrug my shoulders. “Fine. Okay.” Daphni smiles and her wide eyes fill with excitement. She reaches her arms around me, pulling me close to her and peppering my cheek with kisses. “Thank you, Gabby. I have something really nice prepared. But first, I have to get ready for tonight. We have the next four shows back-to-back, but I want you to keep our 124 JADE WEBB first day off in Columbus free, okay? And then tonight after the show, we can have a sleepover in my room and catch up?” The words rush out of her mouth, as if she’s been holding them in for days, waiting to release them. “That sounds great,” I respond, and she pulls me in for another hug. “Will you come to the show tonight, then?” At her question, I lift my eyes to see Liam standing behind her. Every fiber of my being wants to run away, retreat to the safe confines of my hotel room with a pile of raided goodies from the vending machine and my books, but I know how important it is for me to be there for Daphni, so I tear my eyes away from Liam and face my sister. I bite down on my lower lip, hesitating for a brief moment. But as I look at my sister and the hope brimming in her emerald eyes, I nod. “Of course.” CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

know she is avoiding me and it drives me fucking mad. What drives me even further into madness is that I despite the six years I spent in special ops, trailing down terror cells and tracking terrorists across crowded city slums, Gabby has somehow done a better job evading me, to the point where I’m finding myself aimlessly wandering around in a pathetic attempt to “accidentally” run into her. Even now, as I mope around backstage, I keep searching for her. Daphni is on and starting the first half of her set. After some dicey negotiations that rivaled the fucking Cuban Missile Crisis, Daphni had agreed to cut six songs from her set to accommodate Jordan. After listening to Jordan’s sound check, I realized that Daphni’s six missing songs were a hell of a lot better than Jordan's shit music. Just the thought of that asshole sends my blood coursing. Though I know I have no real, logical reason to, I hate him. Seeing him today, laughing with Gabby, making her smile, I had decided that this prick now had an official permanent residency on my shit list. With Daphni busy on the stage, I take the opportunity to 126 JADE WEBB do another walkthrough backstage. I tell myself that this is protocol, and that’s partially true. I like to do a couple of walkthroughs of the backstage area to keep an eye out for any fans who may have snuck in during the show. But really, I’m aching to find Gabby. I want to make sure she’s okay and find a way to at least try and apologize. Although there is obviously no future for any kind of relationship between us, knowing that she hates me has been eating at me. I need to set this right. I head directly for Daphni’s dressing room, offering a curt nod to the crew I pass in the hallway. There is an undeniable energy and buzz created each night at the show. I can see how easily one could get addicted to the chaos of life on tour. Luckily for me, one tour will be plenty for me to put enough money away so I can walk away from this for good. I push open the door to Daphni’s dressing room and I stop in my tracks. Asleep on the large, plush black couch is Gabby. Surrounded by her books, she has kicked off her shoes and is curled up on the large cushions. She looks so peaceful; it takes everything I have to keep from waking her up and using our time alone together to apologize, and explain why I’d been such an ass. But I can’t do that, because she looks so fucking angelic sleeping like that. I catch a small tremor roll down her body, as if she can sense my presence in the room. I want to convince myself it's because of me, and that even when she is sleeping, she can sense me. But I know it's bullshit and that she's probably just cold. I shrug out of my black zip-up sweatshirt and gently drape it over her. My sweatshirt completely swallows her, covering her bare legs up to her chest. My baser side loves seeing her enveloped in my sweatshirt, marked as mine. I take another quick minute to watch her sleep, enjoying her soft breaths and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. I GUARDING HER HEART 127 could probably watch her sleep for hours. The thought confuses me. Though many had tried to stick around, I always made sure that the women sharing my bed were gone long before morning. I had never wanted anyone to share my bed before. But something about Gabby is changing everything for me, and challenging everything I thought I wanted. So, before I can think more about how fucking crazy this all sounds, I flick off the lights and slip out the door. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

he sound of my sister’s loud, screeching voice pulls me out of my deep sleep. Confused, I scramble into T a seated position on the couch and swing my legs down to the floor. I rub at my eyes and find the clock in the room. I had somehow managed to sleep for nearly four hours. Daphni is continuing to scream into her phone, and I can only assume that it’s Drizzle on the other end of the line. Stretching my arms over my head, I notice the black sweat‐ shirt pooled at my feet. Lifting it off the ground, I inspect it further. The musky, citrus scene instantly confirms its owner and I tug it onto my lap, before anyone can see. Liam? Had he found me sleeping and covered me with his sweatshirt? Why? Daphni slams her phone on the vanity with a loud, frus‐ trated yelp. Three of her staff instantly dive in and surround her, each trying to pull at her hair and remove her makeup from the show. “How’s it going, Daphni?” I ask cautiously. “Never get a boyfriend, Gabby. Seriously all men are GUARDING HER HEART 129 terrible. Thank God lesbians are in right now,” she huffs out. “Right,” I respond, drawing out the word, unsure how else to respond to that comment. Melissa enters the room and finding me, offers a wide smile before joining me on the couch. She picks up the remote and turns up the volume on the large screen mounted on the wall offering a front-row view of the stage, where Jordan has just started his set. At the sound of his music, Daphni turns in her seat, glaring at Melissa. Choosing to ignore it, Melissa and I both watch as Jordan jumps into the refrain of his song and a trio of beautiful dancers in fishnet bodysuits gyrate around him. “I heard you made his acquaintance, Gabby,” Melissa says with a mischievous tone as she gently pokes her elbow into my side. I roll my eyes in response. “Seriously, this tour is worse than high school. And yes, I did meet him this morning.” “And?” “And nothing. He was a nice guy,” I reply, shrugging. I see Daphni spin her seat, sending the poor girl who was pulling out her bright-blue hair extensions stumbling backward. “Nice, Gabby?” she yelps. “Jordan James is not nice. He’s evil and a whore.” “Actually, Daphni, he was pretty nice,” I push back. “Trust me, Gabby. He’s a sleaze. He’s slept with like every Victoria’s Secret model. I’m suspicious of why he was even talking to you.” “Gee, thanks Daphni, for reminding me what an ogre I am,” I sarcastically respond. Daphni rolls her eyes at me before turning back in her seat. “Gabby, you know you’re hot. You’re just not Victoria’s- Secret-model hot.” “Again, Daphni, thanks for the confidence boost.” 130 JADE WEBB

Melissa places a comforting hand on mine and I sit back, watching the screen where Jordan is continuing to perform while Daphni picks up her phone again and furiously types out a text, likely to Drizzle. I continue to watch the TV screen while I fiddle with the string of Liam’s hoodie on my lap. I want to find him, to throw his stupid sweatshirt at him and tell him to leave me alone. But an even bigger part of me wants to ask him why the hell he cared enough to cover me with his sweatshirt. Why make such a thoughtful gesture today when just last week he practically threw me off him? Obviously kissing me had been “so fucked up.” God, what did that even mean? I shake my head, knowing exactly what it meant: it meant that Liam saw me as his employer’s little sister, another burden to take care of, nothing more. A curt knock on the door thankfully distracts me from my obsessive thoughts. Daphni doesn’t even look up from her phone, while Melissa jumps up from the couch to pull open the door. I can sense him even before I see him and I instantly freeze, a feeling of guilt overcoming me as I realize my hands have wormed their way through his sweatshirt. I avoid looking over at him as I pull my hands out of his shirt and fold them on my lap. Even though I force myself to watch the TV screen, I swear I can feel his eyes on me. “We’ll be ready to leave in five,” I hear Melissa say. “Aye,” he responds, and though I want to mock his stupid Scottish accent, it undeniably sends a sliver of heat down my body. I hear the door close and only then do I exhale the long breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding. Melissa slides down to sit on the arm of the couch, her phone in hand as she taps. Needing to keep my hands busy, I fold up Liam’s sweatshirt into a tight bundle and slide it into my messenger bag alongside my books. GUARDING HER HEART 131

I continue to watch Jordan’s set, impressed by his stamina as he jumps around with a wide smile as thousands of adoring fans scream his name. Meanwhile, Daphni’s team works quickly to peel all the layers of makeup, eyelash glue, and glitter from her face. A short thirty minutes later, she is barefaced, and the adorable sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks is visible again. She always hated them, but I had been so jealous of them growing up. They gave her an innocent appearance that matched well with her other cherubic features. Only when she opened her mouth did you realize she was such a spitfire. Thankfully it looks like Daphni is in a much better mood and she has a bright smile on her face as she pounces out of her chair. Shoving her phone in her purse, she pulls a base‐ ball cap over her head and slides on a pair of oversized sunglasses. She zips up her oversized sweatshirt and gives herself a quick look in the mirror, checking over her disguise before taking a long sip out of her water bottle. Though I have seen her complete this ritual dozens of times before, for some reason this time it gives me a pang of sadness. For so long, Daphni has been forced to hide and to disguise herself to protect what little shred of privacy she had. What had she lost by doing all this? Daphni catches me watching her and playfully darts out her tongue. I force my sad thoughts away and stick my tongue out in response. I choose to keep this image of Daphni—a playful smile on her face and a spark of excite‐ ment in her dazzling green eyes. I don’t have much longer to think before Daphni opens the door of the dressing room and steps out. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I follow Melissa and we head out the door. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ake up, sleepy head!” “ The pillow hits my head before I have a W chance to pry my eyes open. I let out a loud grunt, which results in a peel of laughter from Daphni. “I am going to kill you!” I groan as I stretch my arms and legs. “Oh, please. You love me,” my sister replies in a singsong voice. I lift my head from the pillow to look at the clock on the bedside table. I push up with a start when I see that it’s already nine o’clock. “Oh my God! I slept in so late!” I squeal as I jump out of bed, tripping on the sheets as I scramble to a standing position. “Such a slacker, Gabby,” Daphni mockingly admonishes. “How can we expect you to take over the world if you keep sleeping in so late?” Shooting her a deadly glare, I prop my hands defiantly on my hips. Daphni forces her smile away and waves her hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Truce?” A devious smile curls back GUARDING HER HEART 133 on her lips. “Besides you can’t be mad at me today. I’m taking you to your surprise today!” I let out a frustrated groan. “Daphni, you know how much I hate surprises.” “Which is exactly why these past four days have been such an utter delight for me!” Daphni squeals as she skips around the room. “Whatever,” I respond, and grab a towel as I walk to the bathroom. “Okay, sis. I’m going to go get dressed,” Daphni calls out as I step into the bathroom. “Oh, and make sure to wear something lawyer-ish” she adds. I poke my head out of the bathroom and shoot her a questioning look. “Lawyer-ish?” “Yeah, you know. Like lawyer clothes,” she explains, as if I am the dense one for not understanding what she means. Rolling my eyes, I step into the hot shower and let it help to wake me up. Ever since Daphni ditched me on my birth‐ day, she has been working overtime to make it up to me, and it’s reminded me how much I really had missed my sister. Every night is a sleepover, spent giggling and raiding the hotel’s mini-fridge until the early morning. Though it has meant less time studying, it feels good to bond and get to know my big sister again. After a few more moments basking under the six-nozzle showerhead, I step out and wrap myself in a plush, oversized towel. Padding back to my room, I hoist my suitcase up onto the bed and dig through as I try to interpret my sister’s understanding of “lawyer” clothes. I settle on a fitted, dark-grey sheath dress with a white collar overlay I had packed to sit for my LSAT exams. Several studies had shown that dressing professionally for your exams actually increased your focus and therefore helped 134 JADE WEBB you score better. It was published in Scientific American so obviously, I took it as gospel. I slip on a pair of simple black pumps and a single silver bangle to complete my outfit. I try to run my thick hair under the hotel blow dryer but get frustrated after ten minutes and opt to just twist it into a low chignon at the nape of my neck. I hear a knock at my door just as I am spritzing perfume onto my wrist. I open the door to see a wide-grinned Daphni with a solemn-faced Liam behind her. I do my best to avoid eye contact with him, something I have mastered over the past few days. I was hopeful my tactics were subtle, but Daphni had immediately called me out and asked why I was always so evasive around Liam. Under her interrogation, I completely caved and told her everything. Even though she had begged me to let her talk with Liam, she understood that I didn’t want to dwell on it anymore, and she even helped me avoid him by giving me the heads-up on his schedule. “Ready?” she asks me, her eyes glittering with excitement. “Yeah, let me just grab my bag,” I answer, and I dash back into my room. I reach my bag and dump out the contents. Flying out comes Liam’s sweatshirt, rolled up in a tight ball. I instantly shoot a guilty look over my shoulder, hoping that Liam or Daphni didn’t notice the pilfered sweatshirt still in my bag. I had meant to return it but then decided to just hold on to it for a day. As much as I hated myself for it, I loved that the inside of my bag was now beginning to smell like Liam. He was still a certifiable asshole, but his scent was intoxicating and so annoyingly addicting. Thankfully the door is closed just enough to keep anyone from seeing me as I shove his sweatshirt back into the bag and transfer my wallet to a smaller purse. As I step into the hallway, Daphni links her arm in mine. Her excitement is contagious and I find myself smiling along. GUARDING HER HEART 135

“So, can you tell me now where you’re taking me?” I ask. Daphni jokingly swats my arm. “No, Gabby! Just trust me, okay?” Daphni presses the elevator button and as the doors open, we pile inside. As the doors close, I hear a gasp and turn to see the young woman gaping at Daphni. “Oh my God, you are Daphni freakin’ Monroe!” she exclaims. Daphni offers them a radiant smile, but I catch the way her body tenses and her knuckles turn white as she grips her purse. She offers them a quick selfie and Liam and I shuttle away to stay out of the shot. We bump into each other, and when my bare arm grazes his, a spark of electric flames scorches me. Though I try to fight it, I look up at him and see his steel-grey eyes watching me. At first, they look angry, and I swear I can see flames flickering in those char‐ coal grey depths, but they quickly soften. He opens his mouth to say something, but he misses the opportunity when the elevator doors open and I jump out, eager to escape. I keep a clipped pace and stay a few steps ahead as weave through the underground hallways of the hotel until we get to the back entrance. Our driver is waiting for us, and Liam slides into the passenger seat, while Daphni and I take the seats in the back. As our driver whips through the grid-like streets of Toronto, Daphni uses the opportunity to show me some of the videos her fans send her through various social media. She laughs and giggles at the videos, clearly proud of her fans’ creativity. At the end of each video, she types out a response to the creator and sends a selfie along with it. Shortly after, we arrive at the private airstrip and are carted off to our waiting plane. We jump inside and Daphni throws herself down onto the plush, white leather couch. I 136 JADE WEBB follow suit and kick off my black pumps, curling my legs underneath. Liam’s large frame is the last to enter. He has to duck his head as he walks inside the body of the plane, and suddenly the spacious, nearly empty forty-foot plane feels so much smaller. He takes a seat away from us and as soon as we are up in the air, Daphni jumps from her chair and pulls a large box wrapped in gold paper from a nearby closet. She places it in front of me. “Open it,” she orders with a large smile on her face. Arching my brow, I return her smile as I hesitate a moment before tearing open the beautiful foiled wrapping paper. I chuckle as I reveal my gift. “Disorderly Conduct?” I ask, bemused. “Yes! I know I’m taking you away from your precious studying and I was so torn up about it, that I figured we could study as we travel to your little surprise,” Daphni responds excitedly. I smile at Daphni, who has already taken the game from me and started setting it up on the coffee table in front of us. I drop down to the side of the table and help her finish setting up the cards. Picking up one of the question cards, Daphni turns it over to read it, her eyes large and animated. “Are these written in English?” Chuckling, I roll my eyes as I take the card from her. “Yes, this is just certiorari. It’s basically a writ that the Supreme Court can issue to review a lower court’s judgment.” I laugh as Daphni’s face contorts in confusion. “Okay, so if you want the Supreme Court to review your case, you need to issue a writ of certiorari. You can’t just show up and say, ‘Hey, I’m unhappy with my court ruling, I want you guys to review it.’ There’s a process and a procedure. It’s all really quite elegant,” I explain. GUARDING HER HEART 137

“Elegant. Right,” Daphni sarcastically adds as she rolls her eyes. She picks up the instructions. “Gabby, there is no way I am going to win this,” she whines as she reads through the packet explaining the rules. I fight back a smile in response. “And how is that different from any other game we’ve played together, Daph?” She glares at me before dropping the instructions. A smirk creeps up on her face and she pushes off the ground. “Liam, we need you!” she calls out. I swear under my breath and Daphni sticks out her tongue in return. I want to literally strangle her and am strongly considering it. We’re still in Canadian air after all, and they don’t have the death penalty. Liam makes his way over and leans down against the leather seat behind Daphni. “What’s up, Daphni?” he asks. “You’re on my team, Liam. I find it incredibly unfair that my act of kindness and generosity has resulted in me being set up to fail,” Daphni complains. Liam quirks his brow in amusement before settling down to sit next to Daphni on the ground. His large frame hunched beside the coffee table is almost comical. At first, he tries to sit cross-legged, but there is obviously not enough room, so instead he shifts and kicks his legs out in front of him, crossing his feet at the ankles. We roll the dice to start the game and Liam and Daphni are tasked with answering the first question. I flip the hour‐ glass, giving them sixty seconds to come up with an answer. I do my best to tune out the sound of their voices as I press my back against the hard leather chair and command my body to remain unaffected and to ignore Liam. I blame his pheromones and his addicting cologne for the way my body seems to react to his every breath, every movement, every word. It’s as if my entire body—from the smallest of my cells 138 JADE WEBB to every inch of my skin—has been programmed to respond to him in every single way. “Torte!” I look up and see a triumphant smile on Daphni’s face. “What?” “Torte. The answer is torte.” I grab the card and flip it over, without even reading the question. In black, bold letters, the word “torte” is written. I draw my glance back up to my sister. “Daphni, how did you guess this?” “Why are you so surprised, Gabby? You worried about getting your butt kicked by your superstar sister?” I roll my eyes as I add her points to the score sheet. “Well, I’m sorry for underestimating you, then,” I mumble in response. Daphni laughs and elbows Liam at her side. “No, you were totally right. I’m a complete idiot. Liam was the one who knew the answer.” I shoot over an incredulous look at the duo. “Liam?” Liam crosses his arms triumphantly over his chest as an arrogant, victorious smile lights up his face. I offer him a polite, congratulatory smile, but he can read the annoyance on my face, which only seems to make him smile more. I push back my annoyance and paste on a large smile. “Well done. Seven points to you. Next question is for me.” CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

s the plane descends, I can’t help but feel the slightest bit victorious. It had been over a week of A her acting like I didn’t even exist, of feeling like a complete and utter asshole. A week of creeping around, trying to find a moment alone to apologize only to find that she had just left. It was as if she was always five steps ahead of me. But today, not only did I get a mildly appreciative nod, but I also got a “well done.” Small steps. It’s late morning as we file out of the plane into the waiting car. Daphni finally clued me in to the day’s events after I had insisted I needed to know for her own damn secu‐ rity. She has developed a recent, rather obnoxious habit of going off-script and leaving me and the team scrambling to catch up with her. Thankfully, however, she seems deter‐ mined to make this day a good one for her sister, which should make my day somewhat manageable. It’s been near fucking impossible, however, having Gabby five feet away from me. Everything about her is a distraction. Her long, dark hair with its faint coconut smell, the way she purses her 140 JADE WEBB lips when I inevitably do something that annoys her. Even when she’s scowling at me, I have to hold back a smile because it’s so fucking adorable. We get stuck in some traffic but eventually make our way into downtown Columbus. Gabby has the window rolled all the way down, determined to catch on to what her sister’s surprise is. Surprisingly, Daphni is remaining tight-lipped and not revealing anything. The car eventually pulls into an empty parking space and Daphni jumps out, throwing on a pair of dark sunglasses. Gabby cautiously follows her, taking in the sights around her. Daphni grabs for Gabby’s hand and practically drags her into the park a few feet away. I follow closely behind and hold back a laugh at the sight of a bright-blue-haired Daphni in a leather mini skirt and pink crop top pulling her prim and proper little sister through the park. Daphni abruptly stops as they reach the main feature of the park: a hilariously large steel gavel encircled by a reflecting pool. Dropping her sister’s hand, Daphni waves her hand in front of the large statue. “Ta da!” she announces proudly. Gabby bites her lip, holding in her laughter. Seeing her sister's reaction, Daphni’s smile drops. “Gabby, this is the world’s largest gavel,” she explains, her face stern and serious. Gabby swallows back her laughter and nods thoughtfully. “It’s beautiful.” I hold back my own laughter as I watch Daphni’s mouth drop open. “Gabby, this is not ‘beautiful’,” Daphni chastises. “This is the largest gavel in the world. The gavel, Gabby! The symbol of justice and fairness and our criminal justice system that GUARDING HER HEART 141 was created to ensure all men are innocent until proven guilty!” I watch as a huge smile crosses Gabby’s face. I notice it immediately because it’s not like any of the other smiles in her repertoire: the ones she forces herself to wear because that’s what she was trained to do. No, this one is different. It’s a smile filled with love and admiration. It’s genuine. Gabby opens her arms wide and hugs her sister. I’m far enough away that I can’t hear the whispered words she shares with her sister, but whatever they are, they bring a smile to Daphni’s face and though I can’t be sure, I even think I see Daphni flick a tear from her cheek. As they break away, Daphni insists they take a photo and I am relegated to camera duty. I snap a few shots before Daphni announces that we need to get inside for our tour. Again, Daphni half-drags Gabby to the entrance of a nearby stone building overlooking the park. As they approach the stairs leading up to the wide doors, Gabby stops in her tracks. “Daphni, what are we doing at the Ohio Supreme Court?” Smiling mischievously, Daphni tugs on her sister’s hand and pulls her forward. “You shall see, little one.” I follow the girls inside, doing my best to remain a respectful few feet behind. Inside an older man, clad in a dark-grey suit, rushes toward them. Clutching a clipboard in his hand, he waves them forward. “Ladies, ladies! Welcome, Miss Monroe,” he says, directing his attention to Daphni. “We are so excited to welcome you. Please, won’t you both follow me for the tour?” Completely ignoring Gabby, he engages Daphni in a conversation about his love of her latest music video and how the concept of the video "just spoke to him.” Gabby trails a few feet behind and I follow a few more feet behind her. She lets her hand skim along the wall as she 142 JADE WEBB tilts her head to look at all of the art around. It’s as if she has entered some sort of sanctuary; she’s in awe as she takes in the sights around her. Our guide—still blabbering away to a very patient Daphni —brings us to an elevator and we all pile in. He presses the button for the eleventh floor, and I take advantage of the small confines to brush against Gabby. She bristles at my touch and I mumble out a soft “sorry.” I want to punch myself in the face. When had I become such a sod that I would make pathetic excuses just to touch a pretty girl? Thankfully the elevator doors open and we step out onto a beautiful, shiny parquet floor. I hear Gabby’ breath hitch as she realizes where we are headed. As our guide opens the massive wooden doors to the law library, Gabby stops in her place and takes a large gulp of air, almost as if she is trying to inhale the smell of the books and the history inside the cavernous room. “This library holds nearly a half million volumes,” our guide whispers as he leads us through row after row of bookshelves, each holding hundreds of copies of thick, leather-bound books. He continues to drone on, but Gabby has clearly lost interest. I watch with sordid fascination as she brushes her fingers along the spines of different books. She is reverent in her appreciation and it’s truthfully the most adorable thing I have ever seen. She truly lives and breathes her passion for the law and it shows. Gabby continues to walk deeper and deeper into the expanse of the bookshelves, going completely unnoticed by our guide and Daphni, who have not stopped talking about the genius of her music. With Daphni and the guide distracted, I decide this is my opportunity to finally clear the air, so I stalk after her. “Gabby,” I call out in a loud whisper. GUARDING HER HEART 143

She whips around at the sound of my voice and I catch her nostrils flare slightly in annoyance. I hold my hands up in front of me, defensively, before she can turn away. “I just want two minutes, Gabby.” I can tell she wants to run so I stare her down. Challenge her. And she responds. Propping her hands on her hips, she juts her chin out, allowing me to proceed. “Look, I know you must think I’m an asshole. And truth‐ fully, you’re probably right. But you can’t just run away from your problems, either. You need to confront them. Confront me. You can’t just avoid me for the next three months either, Gabby.” Gabby's emerald eyes widen, an unmistakable spark of anger flashing through them. “Two and a half months," she says. “Eh?” “Two months and sixteen days,” she repeats and takes a step closer toward me. “My plan is to continue avoiding you for the next two months and sixteen days,” she clarifies as she shrugs her shoulders and breezes right past me. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

y sister gives me major side eye when she sees me, and then a minute later Liam, emerge from M the maze of bookshelves. I glare her down, warning her with my stare that if she says anything, I will murder her. Luckily she is fluent in all my nonverbal eye- isms and remains silent. Our tour guide continues to lead us through the library, still completely oblivious to the fact that Liam or I are also part of his tour and instead directing all his attention to Daphni. Truthfully, I’m used to it, so it doesn’t really bother me. Plus, I am way too distracted by the fact that I am in one of the most beautiful libraries I have ever visited. If I am being entirely honest, however, that is clearly not the only thing distracting me. Liam completely surprised me when he had followed me into the stacks. Shows me for letting my guard down. Well, he was right about the being-an-asshole part. God, I was at minimum expecting a half-assed apology, but instead he decides to give me a lecture. Seriously, this guy has balls. But it was for the best. Now I’m even more determined to GUARDING HER HEART 145 focus all my efforts on making sure that I never have to spend any time with that Neanderthal again. Good riddance. I decide to finally banish Liam from my thoughts and follow along for the rest of our tour. Trailing behind Daphni, I dutifully listen as our guide drones on about the architec‐ tural history of the building. It’s not until we abruptly stop outside a large black, wooden door that I finally tune back in. As we walk inside, we are greeted with large, floor-to- ceiling windows letting in bright rays of sun onto a dark, ruby carpet. A large desk faces the door and an older woman in a pencil skirt and white blouse, buttoned up to her chin, welcomes us. “You must be Daphni,” she exclaims as she reaches out to shake Daphni’s hand. “And that makes you Gabby! We are so excited to meet you.” She grasps my hand tightly, pumping it up and down. “You all wait here, I will let her know you’re here,” she offers before escaping through an adjoining door. I shoot a confused look over at Daphni, who offers only a sly smile in return. A moment later, the woman returns with an older woman following closely behind. Daphni immediately walks over, offering her a warm embrace. “Georgia, thanks so much for taking the time to see us,” Daphni says. “Oh hush, Daphni. Anything for an old friend,” the woman replies. I stand aside, still not entirely sure what is going on here. I didn’t know Daphni to have many friends, especially ones who had stable jobs and were over sixty. “Gabby, I want to introduce you to my good friend, Chief Justice Georgia O’Neal.” My eyes widen as I glare at my sister. How could she not prepare me to meet the chief justice of the Ohio freaking 146 JADE WEBB

Supreme Court? I decide to kill her later and pull myself together. “It is such an honor, Chief Justice O’Neal,” I manage to spit out, despite wanting to melt into a puddle. “Nonsense, call me Georgia, dear. I have heard so much about you. Your sister is so proud of you. I hear you’re thinking of becoming a lawyer?” I shoot a look of surprise over at Daphni. How the hell did my sister casually rub elbows with the chief justice in Ohio? And what had she actually said to her about me? What kind of alternate universe had we stepped into? “Uh, yes. I’m planning on taking my LSATs at the end of the summer, actually.” “Very good. Well, from what your sister tells me, I am sure you will do quite well.” I decide I can’t hold in my questions any longer. “I’m sorry, but exactly how do you two know each other?” I ask. “Well, your sister here received a letter from my grand‐ daughter when she was in a tough spot in her life. Daphni flew out to meet her and spend some time with her, gave her some good advice, and got her into some counseling. Thanks to your sister, my granddaughter is still alive.” She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “I owe a lot to Daphni.” I can’t help but shoot a surprised look at my sister. She turns away from me, and I feel my head spin. I was seeing a whole side of my sister I had never known. A wave of guilt washes over me as I remember all the times I would get so frustrated with her for being so vapid and self-centered. Had that all been some act? Why would she hide this side of herself from the world? From me? “That’s incredible,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. “Well, she’s an incredible woman,” Georgia replies as she squeezes my sister’s hand. She clears her throat and offers GUARDING HER HEART 147 me a bright smile. “So, I understand we have some reser‐ vations?” “Reservations?” I respond. “Yes, at five o’clock. You should be heading out soon,” Daphni chimes in. “Right. Let me just go grab my purse and we will be on our way!” Georgia says before she darts back into her office. “Okay, I feel like I am five steps behind,” I say to Daphni. “I booked you and Georgia for high tea at the Plaza. I thought it might be a nice opportunity for you to pick her brain and hear more about her career,” Daphni tells me. “Wow, Daphni. That’s so sweet. And so thoughtful. Thank you.” A blush races up her high cheekbones. “Whatever, Gabby. Go geek out. But text me when you’re done so we can meet up for dinner.” I nod in response and she gives me a quick peck on the cheek before heading out with Liam at her side. Georgia reemerges a moment later and we decide to walk to the Plaza. After a few moments in Georgia’s company, I finally begin to relax and ask her about her career, her history working as a prosecutor, and eventually how she became a judge and then chief justice. Only after two hours did I finally take a break to check my watch. “Oh my gosh, I’ve kept you for so long, Georgia!” Georgia glances down at her own watch and arches her brow in surprise. “Oh dear, we certainly know how to kill an afternoon!” “Georgia, thank you so much for this afternoon. It was such an honor to meet you, and thank you for being so patient with all my questions,” I gush. “Of course, dear. And please, think about coming next summer for that internship,” she adds. 148 JADE WEBB

“Of course,” I say, still in shock that she had offered me such a prestigious opportunity. We settle the bill—Georgia insists on paying, though she does let me leave the tip—and we make our way outside. We part with a hug and a promise for me to call her once I decide on which law school I will be attending. I feel like I’m on cloud nine as I text Daphni. She replies letting me know she is back at the hotel bar and tells me to come join. I grab a cab and fifteen minutes later, I’m back at the hotel. The bar is attached to the lobby and I instantly find Daphni and her blue hair at the end of the long bar. To my annoyance, Liam is in the seat next to her. I push away any negative feelings, determined not to let Liam take away my high. I grab the seat next to Daphni and drop my bag onto the ground. “You look delirious,” Daphni comments when she sees me. “Daphni, you are amazing. That was so incredible. She is so smart and had such good advice. And, she even offered me an internship!” Daphni beams over at me and hands me her drink. “Cele‐ brations are in order, then!” She orders another drink and then clinks her glass with mine. “Cheers!” I drink the contents, letting the rush of the warm vodka sooth my giddiness. I let my eyes drift toward Liam. He’s looking down at his drink, a sullen look on his face. He looks miserable, and I can’t help but feel the smallest bit responsible. “You’re not going to congratulate me too, Liam?” I ask. He looks up in surprise. When he sees the smile on my face, his own face brightens a bit and he lifts his glass to touch it to mine. “Congrats, Gabby. You’ll do great,” he says. GUARDING HER HEART 149

“Well, I don’t have it yet,” I concede. “I still need to pass the LSATs and actually get into law school.” “Pfft,” Daphni adds. “Like you aren’t going to get into law school. You’re like, a genius, Gabby.” “Well, yeah, I guess you’re right,” I respond with a smile. Daphni rolls her eyes and Liam lets out a quiet chuckle. “Shit,” Daphni suddenly mutters and I force myself to tear my eyes away from Liam. Daphni slinks down in her seat, pulling me down with her. “Hide!” CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

hat are we hiding from Daphni?” I whisper as I “ scoot down in my seat. W “Shh!” she hisses. “If we don’t move, he won’t see us.” I roll my eyes in response, but follow along anyway, that is, until I hear the sound of a familiar voice clearing their throat behind us. “Why, it must be my lucky day. I appear to have found not one, but both of the beautiful and elusive Monroe sisters.” Jordan James. Now I know why Daphni wanted to hide. God, why didn't I just listen and follow my sister's lead and slither away? Now I get to face the Jordan James halfway rolled down in my seat with my hands covering my face. Real attractive look for me. Daphni and I do our best to nonchalantly slide back up in our seats, but the amused quirk in Jordan's lip says all we need to know. I watch with similar amusement as Daphni restrains herself from throwing her hands around Jordan's neck, but she knows there are far too many witnesses. Instead, she GUARDING HER HEART 151 pastes on a large smile and opens her arms wide. “Jordan, what a lovely surprise.” Jordan accepts her embrace, his arms wrapping around her tense frame. I watch the whole charade with rabid fasci‐ nation. That is, until Jordan turns his sparkling blue eyes on me. “Gabby, nice to see you again. Mind if I join you?” he asks, eyeing the empty stool next to me. Daphni immediately jumps out of her seat. “We were actually on our way out. You know, early morning.” “Well, it looks like your sister still has half her drink left,” Jordan comments, looking at my unfinished vodka and soda. “Shame to waste that.” I pause, looking first at my sister and then at the half- empty glass. Truthfully, a part of me did want to celebrate a little longer. And why not do it with this gorgeous human specimen at my side? Sure, he was my sister’s mortal enemy, for whom she would spend at least forty minutes each night plotting elaborate deaths. But let’s be real: Daphni had at last thirty mortal enemies on any given day. And none of them were as undeniably gorgeous as Jordan James. “Sure, I can stay a bit longer,” I say, and Jordan slides into the empty seat, a triumphant smile on his face. I can feel my sister shooting death glares at me. But, ever the performer, Daphni doesn’t let Jordan see her anger and instead gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before storming out of the bar. Liam falls into step with her, lowering his head to hers, looking equally annoyed. “Looks like my sister’s a big fan of yours,” I say as I take a long sip from my drink. Jordan laughs in response, his addicting blue eyes crin‐ kling around the corners. “Yeah, she actually sends me fan mail every week. It’s beginning to freak me out.” "Oh, that's nothing. You should see how she decorated her 152 JADE WEBB locker with all your pictures. She's scribbled your name on all her notebooks," I quip back. A wide grin spreads over Jordan's face as he nods approv‐ ingly. "You have a sharp tongue," he remarks. "I need one to make up for my terrible personality and mediocre looks." I bite back a smile as Jordan's mouth drops. "I don't even know how to keep up with you," he says. His blue eyes rake over me and while I feel a rush of excitement, it instantly fades away as I remember Liam pushing me off him. I can't put myself through this again. And especially not with someone who is as infamous a man whore as Jordan James. I quickly swallow the contents of my drink. "No need," I reply. I slip out of the seat and reach for my purse on the ground. As I move to push my chair back in, I feel Jordan's hands circle around my wrist, stopping me. "You're leaving already?" "It's been fun, but I think it's time for me to head out." "Has anyone told you what great company you are?” “Well, I’ve never heard my cats complain,” I shoot back. A large smile stretches across his face and he lifts his drink to his lips. “You are an interesting woman, Gabby Monroe. You bruise my ego, but you sure as hell look good doing it.” His compliment sends a rush of crimson to my face. I focus all my attention on ignoring my stomach’s somersaults. I can feel his eyes on me and I bravely force myself to look at him. His intense blue eyes are watching me, and I curse God for making someone look this handsome. Seriously, being this pretty should be illegal: it can make very rational people do very dangerous things. “Let me walk you up to your room," Jordan offers, jumping out of his chair. GUARDING HER HEART 153

I laugh and lightly swat him on his arm. “Nice try. I Googled you, you know.” He groans in response. “Don’t believe everything you read, Gabby.” “Oh, I don’t. But still, sir, you’ve got yourself a mighty reputation.” “Well, then let me prove you wrong,” he counters. “Tomorrow night. After the concert. I’m going on first and I’ll be done early. Let me take you to a late dinner. Let me prove to you I’m not some tabloid sleaze.” I shake my head at his tempting offer. “No, thanks.” “Is this because of your sister?” “That and other things.” “Other things?” “I need to focus on studying right now. I can’t have any distractions.” I look at him, letting my greedy eyes rove his toned, perfectly dressed body, and offer him a resigned smile. “And you, Jordan James, are a distraction.” I grab my bag and make a beeline for the door. I stop by the concierge desk to grab my room key and check to make sure my bags were delivered. As I make my way to the eleva‐ tor, I see Liam’s large frame doming the small settee across from the elevators. As he sees me, he quickly pulls out his phone and holds it to his ear. I march straight to him, my anger bubbling. “Were you waiting for me?” He shakes his head and points to the phone at his ear. I tug it away and toss it on his lap. “Cut it out, I know you’re not on the phone.” His guilty face confirms it and I prop my hands on my hips in annoy‐ ance. “Oh my God, Daphni told you to wait for me, didn’t she?” He again refuses to answer, which only further infuriates me. It doesn't matter: his silence confirms everything I need 154 JADE WEBB to know. I stalk to the elevators and press the call button a few times, hoping it can sense my frustration and make the elevator appear faster. Liam gets up to stand beside me, his silence only irri‐ tating me more. And because my filter disappears whenever he is around, I turn around, unable to suppress my anger. “You have no right to babysit me. I’m a grown woman, Liam. I can make my own choices.” I poke my finger into his hard chest to further emphasize my point. He grabs my hand, closing his much larger one around it. His eyes darken as they look down at me. “Not him, Gabby.” I pull my hand away and rush into the arrived elevator the minute the doors open. Liam follows me inside and I glare at him as the doors slowly close. We both press the buttons for our respective floors and ride the first few seconds in silence. Me, fuming with my arms crossed in one corner and him, sulking in the opposite corner. “You can have anyone you want, Gabby. Just don’t pick him,” he says, finally breaking the silence. “Why do you even care, Liam?” I ask, defeated. “You know why,” he replies, his eyes locked in on me. I groan in frustration, and the second the elevator doors open to my floor, I rush out, not wanting him to have the final word because, for some inexplicable reason, Liam seems to bring out the very mature side of me. I turn to face him. “You know, just because you didn’t want me doesn’t mean you have a right to control who does actually want me.” Liam grabs me, not allowing me to leave, and pins me against the open elevator doors. “I never said I didn’t want you, Gabby,” he says, his voice almost unrecognizable: deep, husky, and possessive. I feel my willpower fade as a gnawing ache forms in my GUARDING HER HEART 155 belly. The feeling lasts only a second, and I almost give in to the temptation of his lips close to mine. But then the humili‐ ation of him pushing me off him comes rushing back, and I tear myself away. The elevator doors slowly close and I glare back at him, standing still in the elevator, his dark eyes never leaving me. “You didn’t have to say it, Liam,” I say, just as the doors close. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

he sound of my fist colliding with the heavy canvas bag plays like a symphony in my head. I focus all T my tension into my fist and send it straight into the swinging target. I hit it again and again, forgetting to breathe, focusing on nothing but the swinging black bag in front of me. “Liam!” I stop my barrage on the sack and grab it to keep it from moving. My chest falls heavy as I catch my breath and look behind me to find Daphni standing in the doorway. “Liam, I called your name like five times.” “Eh? Oh, sorry,” I reply. She takes a couple steps forward, somehow managing to walk straight in six-inch heels. “Yeah, I’ll say. You…doing okay?” she asks, her face concerned. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I reply as I start to unwrap the tape from my hands. She looks down at my hands and winces when she sees the blood underneath the wrapping. I suddenly feel embar‐ GUARDING HER HEART 157 rassed at the sight. I know I had lost control, but sometimes an hour with the bag is as good as any therapy. “You aren’t fine, Liam,” she tells me as she takes another step closer. She takes my hands in hers and lightly runs her thumb over my bleeding knuckles. “I can recognize someone fighting their demons. Lord knows, I’ve got plenty enough to go around." I look up at her, surprised, and she shrugs absently, tearing her eyes away from my assessment. “It’s June 16. One of my best friends was killed in an ambush outside Kandahar five years ago. The anniversary gets me a little…you know.” “Yeah, I know,” she responds softly. A long moment goes by and neither of us says anything. We recognize the broken pieces in each other and can appre‐ ciate how the silence is sometimes all we need. It's when we name our demons that it becomes our responsibility to fight them. Until then, we have our memories to haunt us. “I hope you know that even though I can sometimes be… difficult,” Daphni says, breaking the long silence, “that I really appreciate everything you do.” I let my eyes catch hers. “Of course, Daphni.” She nods and playfully punches the black bag. “You think maybe you could teach me a few moves sometime?” “Yeah, any time.” She smiles and arches her blonde eyebrow. “I bet I could be a real killer,” she says as she holds her hand up to guard her face. “Oh for sure,” I agree, and gesture down to her heels. “Those shoes alone could puncture a few arteries.” Daphni laughs and lightly kicks my calf. “You know it.” Settling back on her feet, she brings her green eyes up to mine—the same green eyes she shares with her sister, the 158 JADE WEBB same green eyes that have been haunting every one of my dreams these past two weeks. “Can you do me a favor?” she finally asks after a long moment. “Aye, of course.” “I need to find Gabby before the show tonight. I know she’s in the arena somewhere, but I don’t have time to look for her.” “Daphni, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” “Well, obviously you need to shower first,” Daphni responds with a smile. “No, Daphni. You know what I mean. She’s still pissed at me.” “Look, I need you to find Gabby for me.” She picks at nonexistent lint on her clothes as she looks away. “And tech‐ nically you’re on the clock, mister. So get to it!” And with that, she walks away, her heels clicking on the floor. And it’s at that moment that I realize I have no idea if I absolutely hate or adore Daphni Monroe. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

amnit!” “ I re-add my points in the practice test and D come up with the same score. It’s not technically a terrible score, but it’s not good enough to get me into some of the law schools on my short list. I throw my pencil down and check the time on my phone. The practice test took me a good three hours, and my stomach is kindly reminding me that I am absolutely starv‐ ing. Luckily mega tours like these have round-the-clock food service, so all I need to do is wander around and I’m sure to find some food. I pack up my books and throw them into my bag, doing my best to tidy up the mess I had made. I had scoured the building for an empty room to study in and eventually wandered into an unlocked prop closet with a distracting number of neon-pink wigs on Styrofoam heads inside. Needing some peace and quiet, I managed to look past the sea of neon pink to find a table and chair and make it my study zone. Flicking off the lights as I leave, I follow the traffic in 160 JADE WEBB hopes of finding some food. As I’m walking, the sound of an acoustic guitar paired with a low, muffled voice catches my attention. Following the music, the muffled voice grows clearer, turning into a soft, melodic ballad. I’m admittedly intrigued, since the only music I’ve been hearing for the past month has been overproduced pop tracks with a thumping bass beat that have likely been the reason my bottle of Advil is now empty. I continue following the music until I find myself standing outside a room, the door left slightly ajar. I’m completely caught off guard when I recognize the familiar blonde hair and realize it’s Jordan singing. Sitting in a large leather chair, with his foot propped up against the coffee table, he strums a beautiful, vintage-looking Gibson in his lap. His eyes half-closed as he sings, he looks like an entirely different person from the gyrating pop star on stage, surrounded by a sea of women in booty-shorts. Watch the walls crumble around you as the crowd stands up and cheers they were waiting for you to crack babe and it looks like that day is here so go out with your head held high don’t you let ‘em see you cry they’ve taken all they can get now babe your body’s still here but your name will die Pausing after he finishes the refrain, he continues to strum along, his long, lean fingers effortlessly gliding over the strings of the guitar. Distracted by how easily his long fingers coast over the strings, I lean back against the door frame and let my eyes drift closed. “Gabby?” When I hear my name, my eyes pop open and I feel the rush of blood to my cheeks. Jordan has stopped playing and GUARDING HER HEART 161 is looking right at me. Dear God, I must look like such a stalker. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to stammer out. “I heard you playing and it was so beautiful." I turn to leave, offering him an apologetic smile. "You know, I’m just going to go.” “Wait!” Jordan calls out and I turn back around, pushing the door to the room open. I take a deep breath and slowly enter the room, taking a seat on the couch opposite his chair. “Well, did you like it?” Jordan asks, his stunning blue eyes looking at me. I find myself nodding. “It was beautiful, but…” “But?” “Well, to be honest, it felt a little sad.” He doesn’t respond right away, but instead looks at me thoughtfully before chuckling. “It’s my ode to Hollywood,” he responds dryly. I look at him curiously. “Jordan, why don’t you record songs like that?” Leaning back in his chair, he moves the guitar off his lap. “No one wants to hear songs like this. They want to hear about pretty girls and fancy cars. They don’t want to hear how I really feel.” I let out a long sigh. “That’s so sad, Jordan.” Catching my eye, Jordan smiles. “Do you feel sorry for me, Gabby?” “No!” I answer instantly before admitting, “Well, actually, maybe a little.” He leans in, closing the distance between us. “I like that you’re always honest with me. That’s something I don’t get a lot.” He smacks his palms on his thighs and winks at me before continuing, “And since I’ve got you feeling sorry for me, how about you let me take you out to dinner?” I can’t help but laugh as I shake my head. “Not even a pity date?” 162 JADE WEBB

I roll my eyes in response and stand to leave. “Trust me, I am not the girl for you, Jordan. I may be some billionaire heiress with a pop star for a sister, but I don’t want that life. I want to try and chase some semblance of normalcy. Don’t forget, I Googled you. You took Destiny Warren on a date and flew her to Paris for dinner on the top of the freaking Eiffel Tower. That’s not me. I want burgers and fries and a cheesy movie. We’re just different, Jordan.” “Okay, in my defense, we were already in London when we went to Paris. So that barely counts. And secondly, I can do burgers and cheesy movies. I love burgers.” He smiles seductively as he rubs his belly. I know where this conversation is going, and Jordan is simply not a distraction I want in my life right now. I offer him another smile before I walk to the door. “Bye, Jordan.” I close the door behind me and spin around. I instantly hit a hard wall of muscle that temporarily knocks the breath out of me. Firm hands grab my arms as I stumble back and look up to find Liam. I straighten and pull myself out of his grip. “Oh my God, Liam. Are you following me?” The question pulls a scowl to his face. “Your sister asked me to look for you.” “Of course she did,” I mumble in response. Waving my hand, I command, “Lead the way.” I follow dutifully as he leads me to Daphni’s dressing room. She’s perched in her chair, in the middle of getting her hair and makeup done for the show. Seeing me in her mirror, she spins around in her chair, sending her makeup artist flying backwards. “Gabby, tell me it’s not true!” she squeals. I stare at her in confusion. “What are you talking about, Daphni?” “Did Jordan James ask you out on a date?” she asks. GUARDING HER HEART 163

Before I get a chance to open my mouth, she holds one finger in the air, adding, “And don’t even think about lying to me. I have my ways of finding out!” I plop down in an empty seat and glare over at Liam. “Oh trust me, I know.” “Well, did he?” she asks again. “Did he what?” She lets out a frustrated groan. “Did Jordan James ask you out?” “Yes. Twice actually.” Daphni’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “That bag of dicks!” “Bag of dicks? Seriously, Daphni?” “Gabby, everyone knows that Jordan is a player and a skeaze. You cannot go out with him!” “Thank you for your sage advice, but I am a grown woman. I can date whomever I want. And not that you even bothered to ask, but I turned him down.” Relief washes over Daphni’s face and she leans back in her chair. “Oh, thank God.” Turning back in her seat to face the mirror, she continues, “I knew there was a reason you were the smarter one. Besides, there is seriously no way Jordan James would make a play for you. He was just using you to get to me.” Straightening in my chair, I catch her eyes in the mirror. “Excuse me?” Shrugging her shoulders, Daphni explains, “I’m not trying to be mean, Gabby. But Jordan dates supermodels. You’re not his type. He just wanted to get to me so he can take over my tour.” I ball up my fists at my side and pounce out of my seat. “Okay, for the record Daphni, not everything is about you. It is seriously that hard to imagine Jordan might be interested in me because of my personality?” 164 JADE WEBB

Turning to face Liam, unable to control the torrent of fury rushing through me, I continue my mini-tirade. “Or am I so repulsive to the male species that the idea of anyone wanting to spend time with me is so shocking?” Without letting anyone respond, I storm out of the room. I’m fuming and in no position to be making rash decisions, which is why I make a beeline back for Jordan’s room. I fling the door open, not bothering to knock. A surprised —and shirtless—Jordan looks up at me, and I greedily take him in. He looks like a freaking Ken doll. A perfect six pack, flawless tanned skin, and oh my God, a deep V leading down… “Gabby?” “Yes,” I breathe out. “Yes?” he asks, confused. “Yes, I will go out with you. Tomorrow night. You can pick me up at the hotel at nine.” Turning to leave, I spin back and add, “And please, no international travel.” CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

tug again at the bottom of my shirt as I stare my reflection down in the mirror. This is the third outfit I I’ve tried on, and I am now officially getting frustrated. Everything technically looks fine in the bag, but since I’m a ball of nerves, the minute I actually try on the clothes, I look like a hideous ogre. I go back to brainstorming excuses to cancel, but keep coming up short. Why had I gone back and told Jordan I would go out with him? With a frustrated groan, I fling myself onto my bed. I am not this kind of girl—the kind of girl who gets nervous about a date and goes out to buy new clothes to make herself feel better. And yet, here I am, surrounded by three shopping bags all filled with clothes that are now too ugly, too boring, too lame. It was stupid to go out shopping. No store sold the perfect outfit for a date with Jordan freaking James. A knock at my door interrupts my pity fest and I force myself to answer it. Melissa stands outside, and while I 166 JADE WEBB would normally be happy to see her, I can only assume she is here to do Daphni’s bidding. “If Daphni sent you here to convince me not to go, then you can just leave now, Mel," I tell her, before she can even start. Melissa holds up her hands in defense. “Woah, let’s pause. Daphni did not send me, but I did hear about your date tonight.” She raises her eyebrows suspiciously. “Jordan James?” Rolling my eyes in response, I move to let her in. “Yes, Jordan James. You know, he’s not like what everyone says, Mel.” Melissa walks into my room and sits on the corner of my bed. “I hope you’re right, Gabby. And in all the time I’ve known you, you have always had your head screwed on right. I have no idea how—I’ve met your family. But if you trust him, Gabby, then I do, too.” I offer Melissa a warm smile. “Thanks, Mel.” Catching my reflection in the mirror, I let out a pitiful moan. “I don’t suppose you could help find me something to wear tonight?” Laughing, Melissa asks, “Well where are you going?” “You see, that’s the problem. He didn’t tell me anything, he just sent me a text telling me to wear something ‘comfort‐ able’ and to be in the lobby at nine. What does that even mean?” Rifling through the pile of clothes on my bed, Melissa grabs a pair of black pants and throws them at me. “It means, these pants with this top,” she says, as she throws a muted floral blouse at me. “Oh, and wear those Payless wedges you’re always bragging that you bought for five dollars.” I stick out my tongue at her barb but change into her outfit choice. Impressed, I look at my reflection, finally somewhat confident that I don’t look totally hideous. “Can you toss me my grey blazer, Mel?” GUARDING HER HEART 167

“Seriously, Gabby? You want to wear a blazer on your date? That top is gorgeous and the open lace back shows off your tan.” I turn in the mirror and look back at her, incredulously. “You can see my bra.” Melissa winks in response. “That’s the best part.” Looking down at her watch, she gives me a wide smile. “It’s show time, babe.” She stands up from the bed and walks over to me, pushing her fingers through my hair. “You look beautiful.” “Thanks, Mel.” I grab my bag, and Melissa and I make our way to the elevator together. Once inside, Melissa turns to face me. “If you need anything—seriously, anything—you call me. Whatever time. I’ll be there.” Smiling appreciatively, I nod in thanks. As the elevator doors close, Melissa shouts out, “And if he hurts you, I’ll cut off his balls!” I swing around to glare at her, but the doors close quickly and all I can hear is her laughter as I descend to the lobby. I take a deep, shaky breath as I step out of the elevator. Though I don’t find Jordan right away, he’s easy to spot by the large, hulking bodyguard standing a few feet away. As I walk toward him, he stands. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a white T-shirt, and a baseball cap slung low over his forehead, plus his signature, dark-tinted aviator sunglasses. “Wow, Gabby. You look amazing,” he says as I reach him, an appreciative smile on his face. “And you look… surprisingly average,” I say as I nod approvingly. “And now that I know you well enough, Gabby Monroe, I am going to take that as a compliment.” 168 JADE WEBB

Holding out his arm, I slide my hand through and let him guide me to the car waiting outside. Hopping in the back, Jordan slides in next to me as his bodyguard takes the passenger seat. “Okay, so now can you tell me where we’re going?” I ask. A wide grin spreads across his face and I catch a slight twinkle of excitement in his baby-blue eyes. “Just a normal date,” he responds cryptically. I roll my eyes and decide that I’ll discover soon enough what a “normal date” for Jordan James is. We spend the next fifteen minutes chatting about the tour, the conversation and the banter flowing more easily as I feel my nerves begin to settle. The car pulls off in front of a large cinema and stops. I look at Jordan, out the window, and back at Jordan. “We’re going to see a movie?” Jordan nods and moves to open the door. Before he can, I grab his arm. “Jordan, we don’t have to do this. You’ll get mobbed. It’s not worth it.” “Do you trust me, Gabby?” Do I trust him? Why is that such a difficult question for me to answer? Because you don’t trust anyone, I remind myself. But that’s changing. Today. With Jordan. I offer him a smile and nod my head “yes.” He grabs my hand and pushes open the car door. “Then follow me.” We walk into the theatre, my hand still in his. I look around the lobby, surprised to see only staff around on a Thursday evening. Confused, I lean in and whisper to Jordan, “Where is everyone?” Laughing he answers, “It’s just us, babe.” I pull away, spinning around to confirm his answer. Sure enough, besides us and the six or seven staff standing around, the theatre is completely empty. GUARDING HER HEART 169

Taking my hand back, Jordan pulls me to face him. “I will never be able to just spontaneously go and watch a movie, Gabby. I can’t walk around the mall with you or pop into the grocery store for some milk and eggs. And I know that’s what you want. But, if you let me, I can show you what I can offer. It might not be your idea of normal, but it’s the best I can do.” I look around again and then back at Jordan. He’s watching me intently, and I swear I see a moment of vulnera‐ bility in his eyes. Expelling a breath, I nod. “Well, it’s not Paris, so I guess it will do.” A grin springs to his face as he pulls me to the display of all the movies. “Any movie. Your pick. My only condition is that it must be cheesy as hell.” CHAPTER THIRTY

check my watch for the tenth time that morning, annoyed to see only one minute has passed. A quick I glance to my side confirms that Daphni is feeling equally annoyed. She’s tapping her heel against the floor impatiently. Both of our eyes are watching the elevator, waiting for Gabby to arrive. We were all scheduled to meet in the lobby twenty minutes ago, and while tardiness is something I usually expect from Daphni, I didn’t expect it from someone as obvi‐ ously type-A as Gabby. I mean, the woman literally has a color-coded study schedule that she made Melissa pass out to Daphni’s whole team to ensure that she would be uninter‐ rupted while she studied for six hours a day. “Are you sure you don’t want me to just run up?” Melissa asks cautiously. Daphni is in a terrible mood since fighting with Gabby yesterday, and we’re all on eggshells. “No,” she replies brusquely. “She’s coming.” With her words, we watch as the elevator doors open to reveal Gabby, with her black suitcase in tow. I watch as Daphni rushes toward her sister, meeting her a GUARDING HER HEART 171 few feet away in the middle of the lobby. They’re too far away for me to hear their conversation, but I can see Daphni waving her hands. She’s clearly upset, and Gabby remains calm as they talk, her lips drawn tight. She shakes her head firmly “no,” before walking away from her sister and towards a giant in a dark suit who I vaguely recognize as one of Jordan’s bodyguards. He takes her bag for her and she follows him outside. Daphni marches back to us, fuming. “Where is she going?” Melissa asks. Daphni throws her hands up in the air. “She decided to ride to St. Paul with Jordan instead of coming with me. She says she needs a break from me. Can you believe that?” I feel my jaw tick, but I wisely choose to remain silent. I can see Daphni is ready to lose it, and a quick glance at Melissa confirms she’s thinking the same thing. Looping her arm through Daphni’s, Melissa guides Daphni out of the lobby and outside to a waiting car. Thankfully there are no fans or cameras around, so we can easily pile into the waiting SUV. Once the doors are closed, however, Daphni lets out a string of curses that rival any of the shit we used to spit out in the Corps. “He’s just using her!” she shrieks, as our driver merges onto the highway, headed to the private airstrip where our plane is waiting. Melissa coos sympathetically, brushing her hand down her hair, trying to calm Daphni down. Daphni continues ranting, only calming when we finally board the jet and she gets a vodka—straight up—in her hand. She pops a large, white pill from her bag and within ten minutes, she is completely out, her long blue hair spilling over her open mouth. I’m far too wound up and annoyed to follow suit, so 172 JADE WEBB instead I turn on the TV screen in front of my seat. I absently flip through the channels until they begin to blur together. I can feel my body is tight like a coil, and I’m not a hundred percent sure I understand why. I know I’m pissed she’s with him; I just don’t know why I’m so pissed that I want to punch my fist through this stupid TV. I drop the remote and lean my seat back, focusing my energy on relaxing. We are headed to St. Paul for another show, then off to Salt Lake after that. More shows, club appearances, radio shout outs, promotional events, auto‐ graph signings… Fuck, Daphni even has paid appearances scheduled at frozen-yogurt shops. I’m running ragged following Daphni around, so I have no idea how the hell she gets her energy, besides the endless bottles of Diet Coke she carries with her everywhere. And with everything coming up, I need to dedicate my time and energy to my actual job. I can’t be thinking about Gabby every second. And it’s with that thought that I force my eyes closed and drift to sleep.

“DUDE, it’s your time off, take it.” I shake my head and rub my jaw. I haven’t shaved in a few days, and my stubble is the visible proof. “Nah, mate. I’m good,” I insist. “Liam, you’ve been working ten days straight. Take the day off to relax. I mean, you look like shit,” John responds, grimacing as he looks at me. We’re standing in the middle of the hotel lobby as we wait for Melissa to finish checking us all in. Daphni has already gone up to her room, and is getting ready for some party tonight, where she’ll be getting paid $120,000 to show up for three hours, take some pictures, and drink for free. It’s not a bad gig. John continues to argue with me, insisting that he cover GUARDING HER HEART 173 the security detail for tonight. He’s had lighter duty for the past week, usually driving. We usually switch off after a couple of days, but I’m a greedy bastard and I knew that if I were close to Daphni, I would have a better chance of seeing Gabby. So yeah, I put in the extra hours in hopes of having the opportunity to see a girl who absolutely detests my fucking guts. It was pathetic, but it was still worth a try. “Whatever. I’ll be back tomorrow,” I insist, finally conced‐ ing. I feel exhausted. I grab my bag and my room key and head up to the room. A quick look in the bathroom mirror confirms John’s assessment: I do look like shit. I jump in the shower, hoping the hot water will peel away this old, tired shell I’ve been inhabiting and shake me out of the spell Gabby seems to have cast over me. Out of the shower, I sling the towel around my hips and sulk around my room. I can’t concentrate knowing that Gabby is somewhere in this city with that little shit. I press my palms down on the ledge of the window and look out, wishing I could summon her to me. We have unfinished business, and seeing her with Jordan has suddenly inspired me to make sure I finish it. And soon. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a coffee shop and bookstore across the street. It’s a cozy-looking place with a brick storefront. It looks like the type of place where baristas with thick-framed glasses host open poetry nights. A place where someone could go to read for hours, tucked away in a corner. A place where someone could study in peace. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

f Abigail and Nancy are two of three teachers assigned to teach algebra, which one of the following could be true of the I assignment? I read the question for the third time. Each time I read it, I swear I feel even more brain cells dying. Yet, I only have this one last question to answer until I finish this section and can reward myself with one of those delicious-looking cookies I had spotted when I ordered my chai latte. I pop my pencil into the corner of my mouth and narrow my eyes at the question, hoping that if I focus enough, an answer will magically appear. Inevitably, I do yet another sweep of the small coffee shop where I have been loitering for the last three hours. I was lucky to find such a cute and cozy place to study right across from the hotel. Jordan had to attend some meeting or whatnot and when I had decided to get in some more study hours, I was elated to find this funky coffee shop a short walk across the street. Plush, overstuffed arm chairs- each covered in a different fabric- are dispersed into a bright pink room with small café GUARDING HER HEART 175 tables and chairs squeezed into the empty spaces. Even so, the space doesn’t feel overwhelming or crowded. The walls are decorated with paintings from local artists in every genre imaginable, from bulldog watercolors to magazine collages. Light jazz music plays overhead and the muted conversa‐ tions from the other patrons provide a relaxing soundtrack. I was more easily distracted when it was complete silence and found the buzz and humming energy around me invigorat‐ ing. The playful chatter of the baristas and the smell of the coffee wafting from the small counter behind me reminds me that I am due for another cup soon. Studying a painting on the wall near me of a quilled butterfly at least twenty feet tall, I replay the question in my head: If Abigail and Nancy are two of three teachers assigned to teach algebra, which one of the following could be true of the assignment? A victorious smile tugs at my lips as I look back down at my book. B. The answer is B. A quick check into the back pages of my guide reveal that I solved it correctly. Thank you, butterfly. “Is this seat taken?” A voice from above me asks, tempering the victory parade I was throwing for myself in my head. I feel my entire body simultaneously freeze and kick into overdrive with a rush of excitement at the sound of Liam’s voice above me. Slowly, I let my eyes drag up to see him. Out of his usual uniform and dressed in dark denim jeans and a fitted, black T-shirt, I almost don't recognize him. His dark tattoos are on full display, and I greedily trail them from his forearms up to his large biceps until they disappear behind his sleeve. It looks like he recently showered: his jet-black hair is still wet, thick, and slicked back, and his face is smooth from having just shaved. His steely grey eyes are looking down at 176 JADE WEBB me, obviously eager to see if I’ll move my bag and allow him the seat next to me on the overstuffed couch. “Seriously, did you have a GPS installed in me while I was asleep?” I ask, grimacing internally when I realize how bitchy I sound, and annoyed at how I let Liam so easily get under my skin. Chuckling, Liam moves my bag to the floor and sits down, ignoring my annoyance. “I saw the bookstore and I guessed you might be here. Remember, I spent six years during surveillance.” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “People are predictable.” Scoffing, I offer him a mock salute. “Aye, aye soldier. Glad to know Daphni is spending her money well, having her henchman stalk her little sister.” Liam shakes his head as he crosses his arms across his broad chest. "First of all," he says, holding up his hand. "Not a soldier. I'm a Marine. And secondly, Daphni didn't send me here to stalk you.” Slamming my book closed, I turn to look at him. “Then why are you here, Liam?” He quirks his brow, obviously surprised by my question. “I wanted to see you, I guess.” “Well, here I am,” I say, waving my hand down my body. “Same old, boring, predictable Gabby.” Liam scowls at my sarcastic response. “Why do you always push everyone so far away?” “Excuse me?” I ask, caught off guard by his blunt question. “You have your jokes and your sarcasm to hide behind. Or you just don’t say anything at all and put on some fake smile. You finally tell your sister how you feel, but instead of using it to get closer to her, you push her farther away, then you run away with that little Jordan shit to avoid explaining to her how she upset you. God, who hurt you so badly that GUARDING HER HEART 177 you cannot have one simple, honest conversation with anyone?” I let his words sink in. Each syllable feels like a kick to my gut. When he finishes, he stares at me, passionate steel-grey eyes locked on me. I want to break, to tell him that’s not who I am. I don’t run away from my problems. But he’s right. And that just infuriates me even more. So I don’t break. Instead, I throw my books into my bag and blink away the tears. I jump out of my seat before whipping back around to face him, still sitting on the couch. “How dare you? I was honest with you. I put myself out there and you shut me down,” I tell him, my voice just above a whisper. I don’t let my voice crack, don’t let him hear how close I am to utterly falling apart. Instead, I rush out the door and onto the sidewalk. I take a deep gulp of air and close my eyes, willing myself to breathe again. The ding of the bell attached to the store’s door goes off and I see Liam. I open my mouth to tell him to leave when he takes two steps to close the distance between us and pulls me to him. Within seconds, his mouth is on mine as he possesses me wholly with his kiss. It’s a passionate assault as his mouth claims mine. My mind screams at my body to resist, but it’s pointless. I melt into him, open my mouth, and allow him to kiss me deeper, own me even more. I tug at his shirt and pull him closer, longing to feel his hard angles against me. After what feels like forever in the span of a single minute, we break apart and Liam drops his forehead to rest against mine, each of us sucking in the other’s breath. I pull back to look at Liam. His grey eyes appear to have changed color; they are darker, more feral, as they watch me in return. “What do you want from me, Liam?” I ask, my breath ragged. Raking his fingers through his thick, black hair, he looks 178 JADE WEBB at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “Can’t you see, Gabby? I want you.” I take a deep, steadying breath in a pathetic attempt to calm my racing heart. I want him, too. I know in my bones that I want him. Could I do it? Could I let myself fall? As I take another deep breath, I see a flash of bright blue out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to see Daphni, across the street, watching us. I look at Liam, then back at Daphni. She had been watching us. Had she sent Liam here to distract me? To get me away from Jordan? Would she do that to me? I let out a bitter chuckle as I realize that, of course, that is entirely something my sister would do. Liam watches me as my mood suddenly changes. Confused, he looks across the street and, seeing Daphni, realizes I’ve seen through their little scheme. He takes a step toward me. “Gabby, this isn’t—” Before he can finish, I take a bold step toward him, my palm connecting with his cheek as I slap him. In truth, the slap likely hurt my hand more than it hurt him, but it felt cathartic to thrust all my anger into my hand and see the look of surprise on his face. “You are the worst kind of coward, Liam. Do you do everything Daphni tells you to do? Oh my God, how can you play with someone like that, Liam? How could you do that to me?” I refuse to let him see a single teardrop fall, so I do what I do best, and what Liam had so aptly called me out on just five minutes ago: I run. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

’ll take the blueberry cobbler à la mode. And a slice of “ the cheesecake, too. Oh and coffee, please.” I hand over I the plastic menu and drop my chin onto my hand as I slide my credit card to the cashier. “Ooh, rough day,” the waitress comments, a pitying look on her face. “Yeah, you could say that.” She hands me back my card, along with a large mug of steaming hot coffee, and I trudge my way over to a table and drop down into the plastic chair. I dump creamer and a few packets of sugar into my coffee, twirling it with the spoon. I’m eager to take the first sip, to erase the taste—and the memory—of Liam from my lips. The coffee spills down my throat and I lean back in my seat. I feel like a fool. The image of Daphni, standing across the street, watching us, is burned in my memory. She had set me up. She had sent her goon to distract me, because the thought of me being with her “arch nemesis” was just too much for her to swallow. The waitress brings over my pies and I greedily dig in, 180 JADE WEBB stuffing my face in a sad attempt to temporarily dull the ache of the steady streams of humiliation that Liam has gener‐ ously provided me. I’m about ten minutes away from putting myself into a diabetic coma when I hear the door of the bakery jingle behind me. I don’t think anything of it until I see my waitress turn suddenly, wide-eyed, nearly dropping the coffee mug she’d been cleaning. “Oh my God, you’re Daphni Monroe!” she stammers out. I whip around in my seat to find my sister standing behind me. Helpless, I drop my head onto the hard, metal table and let out a pathetic whimper. Daphni slides into the seat across from me and I pop my head up to stare at her. “Seriously, Daphni? Just go away. Haven’t I experienced enough humiliation today?” Instead of responding, she grabs my fork and scoops up a piece of my blueberry pie before taking a long drink of my coffee. “I know you think I’m some kind of monster, Gabby, but I didn’t send Liam to you. That—that kiss—it was all him.” I groan. “I am not talking about this. God, how did you even find me?” She takes another bite as she shrugs her shoulders. “You used dad’s credit card. I just asked to see where you last used it.” She takes a look around the bakery. “But I could have skipped all that. I should have just assumed you would be stuffing your face in the nearest bakery.” I snatch my fork out of her hand and stuff the remaining pie into my mouth. As I chew, I narrow my eyes down at her, which just makes her roll hers. “Okay, while you’re busy eating your bodyweight in pie, maybe you can hear me out for once. I didn’t send Liam to seduce you, or whatever. Sure, Jordan is an asshole and Liam is actually a really good guy, but I wouldn’t—” GUARDING HER HEART 181

“Enough!” I shout as I stand up from the table. My outburst catches the attention of the wide-eyed waitress, who quickly looks away when I catch her eye. “Enough, Daphni. I’m so tired of all your schemes and your drama. For the past four years, you have conveniently forgotten that I exist, and now, because I’m dating your ‘enemy,’ you decide to try and sabotage it by sending your hired help to mess with me. I’m actually happy with Jordan, and if you gave two shits about me, you would be happy for me, too. I’m here so dad will pay for law school. The minute the tour is over, I’m done. With the tour and with you.” The words rush out before I can stop myself, though I’m not sure I want to. My body is almost vibrating with anger and I can feel myself losing control. My tirade has completely shocked my sister into silence and I take advan‐ tage of it, grabbing my bag and rushing out the door. I see a parked town car, obviously belonging to Daphni, and I scurry away in the opposite direction, down a side street, where I hail a cab back to the hotel. Back inside my room, I pull out my phone to find a series of texts from Jordan starting over four hours ago. Shit. I need to see you. Okay, sorry if that came on too strong. I’m trying to play it cool. Screw it. I need to see you. Come out with me tonight? Stupid promo at a club but I want you with me. Willing to bribe you with food. Okay, forget the club. Whatever you want. Tell me when and where. I can’t help but feel my lips quirk into a wide smile reading through Jordan’s texts. Why can’t my sister be happy for me? And even worse, why would she send Liam to manipulate me like that? She knew how embarrassed I’d been after my birthday fiasco, how hurt I’d been by his 182 JADE WEBB rejection. How could she use that against me? Her own sister? And while a large part of me wants to hole up in my hotel room for the rest of the day—to draw all the curtains, turn off the lights, and sulk—a small part of me wants to see Jordan, to explore what we have between us. And yet…I can’t help but wonder. Would he be able to measure up against Liam and the way he seems to dominate every single one of my senses when he’s in the room? Would Jordan’s lips make my body tremble with an unspoken need? Would one look from his clear blue eyes send an electric sliver of want and heat through me the way Liam’s charcoal gaze does? I groan loudly into my pillow before reaching for my phone and finalizing plans with Jordan tonight. Because in the sage words of one Daphni Monroe, “The best way to get over a man is to get under a new one.” CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

take a deep breath as I hear the unmistakable click of heels on the wood floor. They are clipped and hurried I and I know they are headed straight toward me. There is no use hiding or trying to blend into the curtain behind me. I’ve been spotted, and I know Daphni is going to unleash hell on me. She doesn’t even speak when she finally makes her way to face me. Her eyes are unreadable behind dark-tinted, over‐ sized sunglasses. When she reaches me, she curves her finger, gesturing for me to follow. I dutifully follow behind as she leads me into a small office off the main lobby. She flicks on the lights and, once sure there is no one else in the room, she slides off her sunglasses, perching them on top of her head. Instead of blind anger, I’m surprised to see puffy, red eyes and blotchy cheeks. “Daphni?” I ask, concerned when she looks at me with wide, sad eyes. Even though she’s in her trademark stiletto heels, without all her makeup and attitude, her wide, emerald eyes reveal so 184 JADE WEBB much more. They show not only her obvious sadness, but her vulnerability, too. “She hates me,” she says, her voice a soft whisper. “Daphni, I’m sure she doesn’t—” “No!” she interrupts. “She told me. The minute this tour is over with, she’s done with me. She never wants to see me again.” She lets out a little sob and I dig my hands into my pockets. In the two months I’ve been working for her, I’ve never seen Daphni cry. Even when her shit boyfriend would insult her and openly cheat on her, she still never let anyone see the chink in her armor. “Daphni, love, you just need to give her a little time,” I say gently. “Let her simmer down a bit.” She shrugs her slight shoulders and weeps silently. I close the distance between us and wrap her in a hug. She doesn’t push away, but instead pushes herself into my arms and lets out a loud, shaking sob. I get the impression she hasn’t had a good cry in a very long time. I continue to hold her, gently rubbing her back. I’d been terrified that she’d led me back here to fire me. I was counting on my remaining salary and had already budgeted it all out. Though I do feel a bit of relief, I still feel a twinge of guilt for having sparked Daphni’s fight with her sister. Daphni disentangles herself from my embrace and snif‐ fles. “You smell nice,” she hiccups. I can’t help the smile that springs to my mouth. “Thank you, Daphni.” She takes a deep, calming breath and shakes her body. Offering me a nod, she suddenly narrows her eyes down at me before lightly punching me on the shoulder. “Hey, what were you doing macking on my sister anyway?” “Daphni, I can explain,” I say. GUARDING HER HEART 185

She shakes her head and holds up her hand. “No, trust me, I get it. Gabby is amazing.” Grabbing my arm, she perches up to plant a kiss on my cheek. “And so are you.” With that, she slips her glasses back on and slinks out the door behind me. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

squeeze my eyes shut as I hit the “enter” button on my laptop. Letting out a long breath, I finally open I my eyes. Shit. I reluctantly scroll down the page and click onto the second and third pages of my Google search. Shit. Shit. Shit. Last night I had gone to yet another club event with Jordan, and a paparazzo had snuck in and snapped a picture of Jordan and I kissing in a VIP booth. And now, thanks to the clever detective work of those stalker journalists, I was easily identified. I click on the first article and read through it. It’s aptly titled: “Meet Jordan’s new mystery lady: Daphni Monroe’s little sister!” Great. Even though I’ve somehow managed to snag an incredibly gorgeous, world-famous boyfriend, I’m still rele‐ gated to being “Daphni Monroe’s little sister.” The article goes on to include an interview with a source “very close” to us who shared that we fell in love on tour, GUARDING HER HEART 187 even though my jealous sister, who is also in love with Jordan, tried to tear us apart. Apparently, Jordan felt that Daphni, at twenty-six years old, was too old, so he settled on me. Wow, this was definitely some high-quality journalism at work here. Every other article somehow managed to report the same garbage while reprinting that mortifying picture of me and Jordan, his hand on my thigh and tongue down my throat, surrounded by bottles of liquor in some dark club. It was not my most flattering picture. Still, we had been dating for three weeks now, spending almost every single night together, so I should count myself lucky that we’ve made it this long. I close my laptop and shoot out a text to Jordan. Did you see? Yeah, babe. I’m sorry. Not your fault. I write back. People suck. Still, let me take you out tonight. Make it up to you ;) I can’t help the small smile that inches up my face as I read his message and type out a text back. Can’t say no to that… We finalize our plans for tonight and I decide a hot bath is in order. As I wait for the tub to fill up, I clean up the books I had sprawled across my bed and tuck them back into my bag. We are scheduled to leave first thing in the morning, and this nomadic lifestyle is beginning to wear me down. For the past three weeks, my entire life has revolved around studying for my LSATs, spending my free time with Jordan, and spending every other free minute evading Daphni and Liam. Luckily that hasn’t been too difficult, since Jordan is on an entirely different PR schedule with a whole different team, entourage, and most importantly, plane. When I do see Daphni, I’ve managed to keep it brief and make an excuse to quickly leave. I do feel a twinge of guilt when I see how sad she looks, but then I 188 JADE WEBB remember all the shitty things she’s said to me and I easily get over it. I make my way back to the tub and pin my hair up before sliding into the hot water. The different jets in the tub each hit me at a different angle on my body, helping to unleash some tension in my muscles I hadn’t even realized was there. I let out a soft moan as I feel the stream of water coast over my exhausted body. I sweep the lavender-scented bar of soap down my arm and gently shift my body so one of the jets in the large tub skims my upper thigh. All this tension from fighting with Daphni and the stress of studying starts to fade away as the warm, soapy lavender water envelopes me. Still, the jets are far too tempting for me to ignore. After all, nothing like a little self-love to help ease all the stresses of life, am I right? I move again, adjusting my body so when I settle in the bath water again, the jet now directly hit at the folds enveloping my clit. I slowly start to sway, rolling my hips to grant the jets more liberal access to that perfect spot. I close my eyes and let my head roll back as my own hand reaches to grasp my breast and gently pinch my nipple. I let out another moan as I continue to thrust toward the jet, letting the stream hit my hard nub and send gentle vibra‐ tions throughout my body. As I ease into the rhythm, teasing and kneading my breast, I remember the picture of Jordan and me at the club, with his hand on my thigh, brushing my skin and my mouth open to his. What the picture thankfully hadn’t caught was Jordan’s other hand coasting over my breast. In fact, if the photographer hadn’t found us, there was a possibility that I may have gone back to Jordan’s hotel room that night. After we had seen the photographers, I had been so shaken up that I had wanted to head back to the safety of the hotel immediately. I try to remember Jordan’s touch and the excitement of GUARDING HER HEART 189 his hands on my body. I slide my hand down my belly until it finds its way down to the warmth between my legs. My fingers join the jet's gentle assault on my clit and I let out another loud moan. I stroke myself more frantically, imagining what it would feel like for Jordan to be inside me, pumping into me. Another moan escapes my lips and my body clenches. I am so close. I feel my toes curl and as I feel my orgasm approach, I clench my eyes closed. Except now, instead of seeing Jordan's body over mine, I see Liam's dark-grey eyes staring down at me as his thick arms, covered in black ink, pin me down and his large cock sinks deep inside me. The image of Liam, lost in lust and pleasure as he mercilessly fucks me, sends me over the edge and I let out a cry as I feel my own release. As I freeze, letting my climax take hold, the images of Liam slowly fade. I almost feel a wave of disappointment and loneliness as I come back down from my orgasm, realizing that I’m alone in this tub. And that the one person I do want is not the same man I am seeing tonight. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

aphni!” I shout as my fist connects with the door. “ I’ve been trying to find her for over an hour now, D and after my fifth knock, I slip the key card into the door and let myself in. “Daphni!” I call out into the empty hotel suite. I look around, but all I see are empty bottles of Patron and piles of discarded clothes. There’s no sign of a neon-haired Daphni, and I’m beginning to get nervous. She was supposed to meet Melissa downtown an hour ago, and though she had a habit of being fashionably late, she never completely blew off a meeting. A sound coming from the bathroom grabs my attention and I make my way over. Slowly opening the door with my foot, I see Daphni in the corner of the large, walk-in shower chugging from a bottle of Tequila. She looks like shit. Her hair is plastered to her face and her mascara is halfway down her cheeks. She’s wearing an old T-shirt, some underwear, and one sock. She hasn’t even noticed me yet, and I can tell she’s completely blitzed. “Daphni,” I say louder, so she can hear me. GUARDING HER HEART 191

She looks up at me when she hears her name and slowly brings the bottle down. Her eyes are wide, her pupils completely dilated. I make a quick scan of the room, but don’t see any pill bottles. Still, I know that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have any floating in her bloodstream right now. I slowly walk toward her and crouch down to sit beside her. Gesturing to the mess around her, I look at her. “Daphni, what’s going on?” She doesn’t say anything, but offers me a pathetic shrug of her frail shoulders. I gently take the bottle out of her hands and place it to the side. “You can’t keep living like this, love.” “It’s the only way I know how,” is her sad reply. I nod in understanding. I had seen many of my own friends succumb to the temptation of drinking their phan‐ toms away. It was an easy choice compared to facing them down. I loop my arms around Daphni and pick her up. I set her on the toilet and turn the shower on, making sure it’s not too hot. “Arms up,” I order, and she obediently raises both her arms. I take off her shirt and guide her back to a standing position in front of the shower. “Take off your knickers and then go on in. Soap up—I want you in there for at least ten minutes.” As she steps inside, I drop down onto the covered toilet. “Are you going to tell me what lead you to this latest binge, Daphni?” The shower is open, with no curtain shielding us, so I know she can hear me. “You don’t strike me as the type who wants to hear a rich girl’s sob stories,” she replies after a long moment. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But you’ve got to stop with this drinking, Daphni. Don’t think I don’t notice what’s in all 192 JADE WEBB your water bottles. You’re crossing into dangerous territory here.” “I’m just going through some stuff right now, Liam. I don’t expect you to understand. The drinking helps.” “Aye, trust me when I say that I know it helps. But it only helps in the short term. That’s your mistake,” I reply. “Well, it’s all I have.” “No, no it’s not. And when you get out of that shower, I’ll show you that it’s not.” ______“You cannot be serious!” Daphni moans as I finish wrap‐ ping her hands in the black tape. “Aye, yes I am, girlie.” “My head is fucking killing me,” she whines. “That’s why I gave you the Advil. Now shut your mouth and watch me,” I order. I bounce on my feet, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right. Keeping my hands up by my face, I punch out a jab and hit the black punching bag straight in the center. As my knuckles hit the hard bag, I can feel the tension sift out my body. I look over to Daphni who, thanks to her shower, looks a little more like a human. “Your turn,” I tell her, gesturing to the bag. She rolls her eyes but takes a deep breath. She mimics my bouncing and strikes the bag with her right hand. It barely moves and she pulls her hand back, swearing. Before she can walk away, I grab her by her shoulders and pierce her emerald eyes with mine, forcing her to look at me. “Look at that bag, Daphni. Look at that bag as the fucking traitor that it is. That bag hurt you, it destroyed you, it took advantage of you. That bag wants to defeat you. Don’t let that fucking bag defeat you, Daphni. You defeat it.” She rips her eyes away from mine and faces the bag. Her thin body straightens and she brings her hands up to guard her face. As she bounces on the balls of her feet, she matches GUARDING HER HEART 193 her breathing to her steps. After a few seconds, she steps in and her hand connects with the bag. This time, the bag sways from the contact. The swaying seems to encourage her, and she steps in with another jab, then another. Suddenly she’s throwing her whole body into the punch, screaming with every hit. I grab her, pulling her away from the bag. She’s out of breath and her cheeks are flushed cherry red. “You all right, there?” I ask. She nods, catching her breath. “I hate that fucking bag,” she spits out, her voice shaking with fury. Taken aback by the anger radiating off her small frame, I drape a protective arm around her. “Let me teach you some more moves.” CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

re you sure this isn’t too much?” I ask as I pull the “ dress down to my knee. A “No, babe. You look incredible, trust me.” Jordan offers me a smile and I give myself one more look in the mirror. Jordan had picked out my dress for the night and had it sent to my room. While it was an incredibly kind gesture, I was getting seriously annoyed with everyone wanting to dress me. Especially in these tight dresses that barely allowed for me to sit without having to contort my body into some yoga position. Jordan’s pick, however, was much tamer than the dresses that Daphni had shoved me into. He had opted for a burgundy bodycon dress with black piping that conveniently highlighted the bust and the hips. It was pretty flattering, and thankfully had straps to help hold up the girls, who other‐ wise may have popped out to say hello. The dress was beau‐ tiful enough that I didn’t need to bother with any accessories, except for a garnet stone ring and simple black heels. Jordan wraps his arms around my waist as he looks at my reflection in the mirror. Pressing a quick kiss to my cheek, GUARDING HER HEART 195 he lets everyone know that it’s time to go and I grab my clutch for the night, tucking in my phone. “So, remind me again what party this is?” I ask as we make our way downstairs and to the town car waiting to pick us up. “We’re going to Dom Federico’s house in the Valley. He’s one of the producers of my album, so there will be a lot of people there to network with. If you’re lucky, you may even find a lawyer to talk to.” I playfully swat him with my clutch. “I told you. I’m not interested in entertainment law, I want to be a prosecutor.” “Ah, right, babe,” he replies dismissively as we file into the car. While I’ve been enjoying my time with Jordan, I can’t help but notice that there’s just…something missing. He always seems so distracted. I tell myself it’s because he’s so busy with his career, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m always competing for his attention with his entourage, his assistants, even his stupid cellphone. A short drive later and we pull up to a large, Spanish-style villa on top of a large hill. Our driver brings us to the front door, where it’s clear the party is already in full swing. The minute Jordan walks in, all eyes seem to fall on him and he is whisked away and pulled into the crowd, shaking hands and smiling brightly. Suddenly alone, I awkwardly make my own way into the party. I instantly realize that this is not an intimate industry party like Jordan had described. There are cameras everywhere, all with badges from different maga‐ zines and tabloids. It’s also painfully easy to spot the agents, PR reps, and managers among the dense crowd. They are always hovering a few short feet away, phones in hand as they strategically maneuver their respective puppets around the room, making sure a photographer is always close by to snap a picture. The whole affair makes 196 JADE WEBB me depressed and annoyed and painfully aware of how alone I am here. I decide to do my own lap around the room and find a quiet place I can loiter while Jordan does his song and dance. I find my way outside, to a large tiled patio overlooking an Olympic-sized pool. Propping my elbows down on the bannister, I take in the view of the stars and drown out the sounds of the party inside. “Beautiful,” I hear a voice comment appreciatively behind me. I spin my head around and feel my jaw drop. A few feet away, dressed in fitted black dress pants and a simple white button-down is Mauricio fucking Fedaro. Not only is he the most gorgeous man to ever grace this earth, he is a three- time Oscar winner and has a pretty dirty reputation that has granted him the moniker, “The Italian Stallion.” Daphni and I would binge his movies and talk about how dreamy he was. Even my mother visibly drooled when she saw his movies. “You’re Mauricio Fedaro,” I blurt out as my mouth gapes open. He chuckles and takes a few steps toward me. He’s carrying two champagne flutes and when he reaches me, he hands one to me. Still in shock, I take the glass of champagne and force my inner fangirl to mellow the hell out. He tilts his head up to the sky. “You were watching the stars tonight?” I follow his gaze upward. “I couldn’t help myself. They’re just so beautiful.” He nods appreciatively. “I know what you mean. I was in this room, full of singers and celebrities and photographers, and then I saw you. A diamond among stones and like you said, ‘I just couldn’t help myself.’ I had to come speak to you.” I feel a blush rise up my cheeks and, unsure of what to say, I take a long sip from the champagne. GUARDING HER HEART 197

Mauricio inches closer. I catch his dark eyes roving up and down my body, his interest obvious. I grip my glass tighter as I feel a prickle of uneasiness suddenly wash over me. “You came here with Jordan?” he asks, and I nod in return as I plot a polite way to disengage from the conversation and sneak back to the party indoors. Something about him makes me uneasy and I learned long ago not to ignore that feeling in my gut. “Well, what do you say about leaving with me?” he asks, his question dripping with innuendo and obvious interest. But more than that, I can sense something darker, more sinister that sends the hairs on the back of my neck upright. A tiny tremor runs up my body as I take a step back, out of his reach. “No thank you. I’m actually going to head back—” Before I can turn away, his arms reach out, pulling me toward him. Pinning me against the bannister, he covers me with his body and grabs my breast in his hand as he leans down to kiss me. The strong smell of his cologne mixed with his bourbon breath nauseate me, and I wrench my face to the side as I squirm to get out of his reach. He gets annoyed and brings his right hand under my dress to try and pull at my panties. I feel every muscle in my body tense as my thoughts race. I need to get out of here. Now. Instinctively, I jut my knee up and hit him straight in his groin. He lets out a loud yelp and drops his hands as he falls forward. I take the opportunity to run, and I drop my glass, shattering it on the tiled floor before rushing back inside to the party. I push through the sea of people, searching for Jordan. The minute I spot him, I grab him and pull him through the crowd. Spotting a bathroom door ajar, I pull him into the room before closing the door behind us. Finally alone and safe, I collapse against him. 198 JADE WEBB

He wraps his arms around me and after I feel my breath even, I pull out of his embrace to look at him. “What’s wrong, babe?” he asks, looking down at me. I feel a tear slither down my cheek and I force myself to take a deep breath. “Mauricio Fedaro just…just attacked me,” I answer shakily. “Attacked you?” “Yeah, he came up to me outside and started hitting on me. I felt uncomfortable, so I tried to leave, and then he just grabbed me and put his hand up my dress.” “Babe, are you sure it was him?” “Yes, I’m sure! I know who he is! Don’t you believe me?” “Of course I do. But he’s a movie star, babe, and he’s probably just a little drunk. I mean, look at you. You’re gorgeous; he couldn’t help himself.” “That’s not an excuse!” “Babe, calm down. It’s okay. Anyway, I’m the one who should be upset. I’m your actual boyfriend and he got further with you in one night than I have in three weeks.” “Are you serious right now?” I look into his eyes and feel my stomach sink with dread. Gone is the friendly, playful glint in his ocean-blue eyes. Instead they look hard, cold, and hungry as they stare down at me. Suddenly I’m very aware of the smallness of this bath‐ room, and the fact that the only way out is currently being blocked by Jordan. In the fluorescent lighting, I catch the dilated pupils and his shaky hands. He sees my eyes dart toward the door and his mouth hardens, a dark shadow crossing over his face. He takes a menacing step toward me and I feel my mouth grow dry as the hairs on the back of neck stand on end. “Why don’t we fix that now?” “Fix what?” I ask, completely confused and growing more and more panicked. GUARDING HER HEART 199

“Fix the fact that you haven’t let me fuck you yet.” I feel all the air leave the room and dread sink to the pit of my stomach. My body is still tense and recovering from being groped ten minutes ago, and now I realize with a sinking horror that I’m in an even more dire situation. “Jordan, I’m not going to have my first time in a bathroom.” “Your first time?” I curse myself for letting the fact that I’m a virgin slip out of my mouth. Something had held me back from telling Jordan, and now I realize I had been right to do so. “I mean, our first time,” I quickly say. He laughs caustically. “You’re a fucking virgin, aren’t you? That’s why you’ve been such a prude?” I feel all the color leave my face and suddenly the fear I have radiating in my body turns to blind anger. Anger at over-entitled assholes like Mauricio and Jordan who think that because they have Ferraris and can’t control their dicks, they can have whatever women they want, regardless of her consent. Anger at myself for not trusting my gut and seeing Jordan for the asshole he clearly is. Anger at how I have lived twenty-two years in fear of men like this. Men who don’t understand that women are not playthings put on Earth for their goddamn amusement. And when Jordan takes another step toward me, his intent clear in his eyes, I decide that I am done. Done pasting plastic smiles on my face, done holding back my feelings, and most definitely done with assholes like Jordan James. I reach behind me and grab a tall bottle of air freshener resting on top of the toilet tank. “Jordan, the reason I didn’t sleep with you isn’t because I’m a virgin,” I say as I hold the canister in front of his face and spray the contents directly into his eyes. “It’s because you’re just an asshole." 200 JADE WEBB

Jordan shrieks as the spray hits his eyes and he falls forward, gripping me for support. I push him off me, but he manages to tear the strap off my dress as he teeters back, landing on the toilet seat, his face clutched in his hands. The path to the door now free, I jump toward it and pull it open. As I step out, light blinds me and I realize there are at least three photographers standing outside. I grab the top of my dress, holding it up. I look behind me and when Jordan spots the cameras, he quickly jumps up from the toilet and wipes his eyes. He smiles at the photographers, who snap another series of photos. I freeze as I realize exactly what this looks like to the gaggle of paparazzi and amused onlookers. And as I tear through the thick crowd, I realize with an overwhelming sadness that the story of tonight has already been written. Because no matter how much money my family may have at their disposable or how many times I could scream it to the world, at the end of the day, all the world will remember is me spilling out of a locked bath‐ room, my torn dress, my messy hair, and Jordan’s smiling face. They’ll say I wanted it, that I let myself get into that situation. That I deserved it. As I run down the stairs out of the house, I want to scream. This is exactly why I had never wanted to be thrust back into this world. It was fake and harmful. It spits people like me out every day. I hate myself for believing that this time it could be different, that Jordan was different. So I keep running as fast as I can in these ridiculous shoes until I am finally back onto the street, a safe distance away from the party. And only when I’m there, in the safety of the dark street, do I finally allow myself to cry. CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

t only takes me about twenty minutes of walking to realize that these heels may not have been the wisest I footwear choice for the evening. That fact is confirmed three minutes later when the heel on my right shoe collapses, sending me tumbling onto the sidewalk. It’s only then, on the ground and covered in dirt with my knee bleeding, that I finally let myself fall apart. Thankfully I am in some obscure neighborhood where all the houses are set off from the road, so there are no witnesses to my pity party. I am so embarrassed, and mad at myself for being embarrassed. And mostly, I’m angry that I let myself trust someone. And the only person who I want to call right now is the person who I told I never wanted see again. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t care about any of it. Because I want my sister.

I SEE the headlights and I instantly know it’s Daphni. 202 JADE WEBB

Surprisingly, she had been asleep when I called, but told me she was coming right away. No questions asked. As the car approaches, the passenger-side door opens even before the car pulls to a complete stop. In PJ bottoms and slippers, Daphni runs toward me and throws her arms around me. Only when I feel her embrace do I let myself go and sob into her arms. She coos in my ear, calming me. After a few long moments, she gently leads me back into the car and sits with me in the back seat, never letting me fall out of her embrace. We drive in silence, with Daphni’s hand caressing my hair. As we pass under a streetlight, she catches the blood running down my knee. “Gabby, you’re bleeding!” “I’m okay,” I tell her. “No, hold on. Liam, pull over,” she directs, and it’s only then that I realize Liam has been driving us the whole time. He pulls over into an empty lot and grabs the first-aid kit out of the glove box before jumping out of the car. He opens the door to my side and Daphni turns on the interior light. Pulling out an antiseptic wipe and a Band-Aid, Liam stands in the door and gestures for me to bring him my leg. He reaches for my leg and I instinctively flinch. He pulls his hand away. “Sorry,” I mumble. “Don’t apologize,” he replies. “I just want to put your foot here,” he gestures to his knee, “and then I want to clean the cut and put a Band-Aid on it.” I nod in response and he takes my leg, his warm hands gently guiding my foot to rest on his knee. He wipes away the blood and blows on my cut as he wipes it down. When it’s clean, he carefully places the Band-Aid over the cut. “Thank you.” He looks at me and I catch the gentleness in his eyes. He GUARDING HER HEART 203 opens his mouth to say something before his eyes dart to Daphni, sitting behind me. He closes his mouth and offers me a tight-lipped smile and a nod before removing my leg and closing the door. Once back in the driver’s seat, he pulls out of the parking lot. “Gabby, can you tell us what happened?” Daphni asks. I look at her and she squeezes my hand reassuringly. I start from the beginning of the party and end with the alter‐ cation with Jordan in the bathroom and the photographers. Daphni keeps silent as I tell my story and I see tears brim‐ ming in her eyes. I squeeze her hand tightly. “Daphni, nothing happened. I’m okay.” She nods, as if to reassure herself. “I know. I’m still going to shoot that little shit’s dick off,” she declares. I can’t help but chuckle at her words and how serious she looks. “No, I’m serious, Gabby. He is a dead man walking. You’ll alibi me, right Liam?” “I’ll give you the fucking gun,” he snarls. “Great, then it’s settled. He’s dead.” I roll my eyes in response but let my head fall to rest on Daphni’s shoulder. In return, she gently lays her head on mine. We pull into the hotel a few moments later and all pile into the elevator. “Can I stay with you tonight?” I ask Daphni. “Obviously, baby girl.” As the doors open to our floor, I follow Daphni out. Liam places his hand gently on my arm. “If you need anything, I’m right next door.” I nod and offer him a tilted smile in return. “Thank you,” I say. “For everything.” He tenses his jaw and for a moment, I think he is going to 204 JADE WEBB say something. Instead, he snaps his mouth closed and nods. I bite down on my lip, trying to conjure the words I want to say to him. But I’m too tired, too drained. As if he can sense it, Liam places a reassuring hand on my arm. "We'll talk tomorrow?" he tells me, more of a question than a statement. I nod and turn to follow Daphni into the room, hoping that sleep will find me easily tonight and when I wake up tomorrow, this whole night will somehow have been a terrible dream. CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

ow bad is it?” “ “Fucking terrible,” Daphni replies before H sliding her iPad across the table to me. I pick it up and swear under my breath as I read the bold headline. “Jordan James takes Pop Star Diva Sister’s V-Card: Exclusive Details!” It’s fucking disgusting. Even worse, accompanying the article is a picture of Jordan and Gabby leaving a bathroom, a triumphant smile on Jordan’s face as he gives a thumbs-up to the photographer. Gabby’s face is hidden behind her hands. Her torn dress, in the context of the photograph, looks like the result of passionate lovemaking rather than physical assault. It’s repulsive, and the whole thing makes me nauseous. “How is she?” I ask. “She’s still asleep. I gave her some of my Ambien to knock her out.” Daphni’s knuckles are white as she grips her coffee mug. “His sound check starts in fifteen minutes. I want to be there.” I know better than to argue with her. And in truth, her 206 JADE WEBB fury is only matched by mine, so I nod my head in agree‐ ment. We gather our things and head out the door. ___ We are at the arena in under thirty minutes, and I keep a clipped pace behind Daphni. For someone in stiletto heels, it’s pretty fucking remarkable how fast she can walk. We arrive at the beginning of Jordan’s sound check and he is on stage, mid-rehearsal. Daphni barrels onto the stage and marches straight toward Jordan, shoving aside anyone in her way. He stops and watches her storm toward him, an amused expression on his face. “You’re a sorry excuse for a human, Jordan,” she spits out. “I warned you I would cut off your balls if you hurt her, don’t think I won’t.” Jordan takes a step back, likely in response to the fact that even though she barely pushes five foot five in heels, Daphni is a force. He chokes out a laugh to save face and crosses his arms at his chest. “You are a crazy bitch. Your whole family is crazy!” Daphni lunges toward Jordan when suddenly Gabby appears, rushing onto the stage to pull her sister away. “Daphni, he’s not worth it,” she says as she drags her sister offstage. She turns back to face Jordan and shakes her head slowly. “Trust me, he’s not worth it. In fact, he’s just a sad, neglected little boy who didn’t get enough attention from his mother.” She gestures to the group of dancers, huddled in a semicircle to the side of the stage, all dressed in tight, ripped shorts and bedazzled bras. “He thinks women are just props to be used and discarded.” She turns to face Jordan, her green eyes blazing with fury and hurt. “You’re despicable, and the only thing I feel for you is pity.” I feel a sense of pride as I watch Gabby, head held high, as she turns away from Jordan and walks away. It’s because my GUARDING HER HEART 207 eyes are on her that I miss it when he lunges after her, pulling her hair and sending her tumbling to the ground. I react without thinking and run toward him. My fist connects with his face before I take my next breath and he goes down. Daphni is crouched over Gabby, helping her up, and Jordan is rolling on the ground, sobbing and clutching his bloody nose. “Gabby, are you okay?” I ask. Her face is white and for a second, I think she might pass out. I reach for her, but before I can touch her, she pulls out of Daphni’s embrace and takes off, running off the stage. By now, the whole stage is a circus and I know I can’t chase after Gabby. I have to be near Daphni in the very likely event that little punk bitch Jordan tries another dirty move on her. Luckily though I think my punch was enough and his team is now hurriedly crowding around him, trying to contain the rush of blood pouring out of his nose. Melissa finally arrives and her eyes pop open at the sight. Before she can open her mouth, Daphni interrupts her. “He’s off the tour or I walk,” she says. Panic washes over Melissa’s face and I watch Daphni’s manager and PR rep step aside, both furiously typing away on their phones. “Daphni, you can’t—” “It’s done, Mel.” She snaps her fingers, calling over her manager. “He’s off the tour or I’m walking. Make it happen,” she tells him before turning to me and gesturing for me to follow her off the stage. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

unwrap another Hershey’s Kiss and pop it into my mouth. I count my remaining stash. I only have seven I more of the chocolates my niece Isabel has pilfered for me from the kitchen below. That and three juice boxes are all I have left for the day, considering I refuse to leave the safety of her bedroom. And yes, I know it’s a cowardly move, but I don’t care. I am much happier hiding out here, in a Disney princess teepee tent with my adorable nine-year-old niece, than I am surrounded by Daphni’s, Liam’s, and Melissa’s concerned faces, gossip magazines, and non-stop social media posts. Instead, I have Isabel and our cadre of stuffed animals that are doubling as security to make sure no one else gets in. I am also about ninety-three percent sure my brother knows I’ve been hiding out in his daughter’s room for the last three days, but is respectfully giving me my space. Or there’s the seven-percent chance that he is just completely unaware of what is going on in his house, which would be far even more unsettling. So on day four of my hide-out, I’m not too surprised GUARDING HER HEART 209 when I see my brother and Daphni poke their concerned faces into the bright-pink teepee. Lawrence, thankfully, is much more restrained than Daphni and politely keeps a stoic expression. Daphni on the other hand immediately gasps. “Gabby, have you seriously been hiding out here?” she asks, and I self-consciously tidy up my pile of wrappers and empty juice boxes. When I don’t respond, Daphni sighs wearily and grabs my arm, pulling me out of my tent. She sits me down on Isabel’s bed and Lawrence leans against the dresser. “Gabby, this is an intervention,” Daphni declares as she looks me up and down. “You need to snap out of it.” “Snap out of it? How do you snap out of being humiliated in front of the whole country, Daphni? God, how would you even know?” “How would I even know? Do you not remember my whole little meltdown with the golf club and my banishment to Bora Bora? Honey, I think I may be the only person in the world who does know what you’re going through right now.” A wave of guilt washes over me as I realize the truth in her words. Here I was moping and feeling sorry for myself, not even considering that Daphni, whom I had continually pushed away, might actually be the only person in the world who knew how I felt. “I’m sorry, Daphni," I say, my voice cracking. "You’re right.” “Don’t sweat it," Daphni says, covering my hand with hers. "Besides, this whole ordeal has actually worked out quite well for me." “What do you mean?” “Well,” she says as she glances toward Lawrence. “Unbe‐ knownst to your charming ex-boyfriend, Lawrence was able to make a wise investment in his record label and demanded that he be dropped instantly from both the label and the 210 JADE WEBB tour. There also may have been a leaked story or two about how Jordan was a complete sleaze who was too aggressive in putting the moves on my baby sister, so I kicked his ass.” She proudly flips her blue hair over her shoulder. “I mean, I’m basically being called the Gloria Steinem of our generation!” I hear Lawrence snort at Daphni as I digest what she said. “Wait, what? Jordan’s off the tour?” “Yes, and he’s getting his ass kicked in the media, too. A lot of his exes are coming out of the woodwork and sharing other creepy stories. It’s bananas.” I look at Lawrence and then back to Daphni, my mouth gaping. “You guys did all this for me?” Daphni shrugs her shoulders and smiles. “Duh, Gabby. You’re our sister.” Lawrence walks over and sits down next to me, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulder. “You don’t fuck with family,” he simply says. “You make us sound like we’re in the mafia, or something.” “The Monroe Mafia,” Daphni giggles, her pink lips pulling into a playful smile. I roll my eyes and wrap my arms around Daphni and Lawrence, pulling them close to me. “I love you guys so much,” I tell them. Lawrence dusts a soft kiss on my head, and I feel Daphni squeeze me at her side. You don’t fuck with family. CHAPTER FORTY

o way, Daphni. Absolutely not.” I cross my arms “ over my chest to further emphasize my point, but N as usual, Daphni totally ignores me. She continues pacing around the room, her lips pursed as she desperately tries to cobble together some kind of plan. Her intentions are purely noble and even a bit admirable. Her execution, however, is severely lacking. “Okay, well what if instead of like a formal kidnapping, we make it…more casual? Like we lose the blindfolds and handcuffs?” “Daphni, love, first of all, there is no such thing as a casual kidnapping. Second, I don’t think the right way to inspire Gabby to emerge back into the world is to scare the shit out of her by making her think she is being abducted.” “No, you missed the main point, Liam!” Daphni groans as she pins her green eyes on mine. “Sure, it’s like, a little scary for the first half, but the second half is when we surprise her with the puppies. Do you need me to explain the whole thing again?” I force myself not to roll my eyes because it’s clear how 212 JADE WEBB hard Daphni is trying right now. Even though she is abso‐ lutely clueless, she obviously wants to help her sister. Ever since the big fight last week and the publicity fallout, Gabby has been in hiding. While she has stayed on the tour, the minute we arrive at the hotel, she checks in to her room and rarely leaves. Not that I really blame her. The press is thirsting for five minutes with her, but Daphni has been more than willing to help out with that. She loves retelling the story of how she broke Jordan James’s nose in defense of all women, everywhere. She’s milking it, but hey, it’s a fucking fantastic story. “Daphni instead of all this elaborate planning and schem‐ ing, why don’t you just go talk to her?” Daphni stares at me blankly. “I did talk to her.” “No, love. Talk about her feelings, her fears, understand what she’s worried about so you can help her. All you’ve been doing is trying to bribe her with pie and baby goats.” “Well, she loves goats,” Daphni says softly as she collapses down on the couch. Sitting down next to her, I wrap a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “I know she loves goats, but some problems can’t be solved so easily. Sometimes you need to put in a bit more elbow grease.” She nods thoughtfully and when she opens her mouth to respond, we hear a loud, clipped knock at the door. “Who is it?” I call out. “It’s Gabby.” Daphni and I share a look of confusion before she jumps off the couch and rushes to answer the door. Gabby enters the room, her nervous hands clasped in front of her. Surprisingly, she’s not dressed in her usual uniform of black pants, a black hoodie, and sunglasses. Today she looks…better. Healthier and lighter. Her long GUARDING HER HEART 213 brown hair is braided loosely down her back and her green eyes look brighter, the bags under them now gone. “What’s up Gabby?” Daphni asks hesitantly. Taking a deep breath, Gabby places her palms on her thighs. “I want to go out tonight.” Daphni shoots me a confused look before turning back to her sister. “Um, yeah. Of course! Sure! Wherever you want. I heard of this great club on Fifth, they have this DJ who plays—” Gabby waves her arms, stopping Daphni mid-sentence. “No, no club. I want to go somewhere else.” Daphni obediently sits back down and nods her head. “Oh, right, sure. What did you have in mind?”

AS WE ENTER the smoky lounge, Daphni again grabs her sister’s arm. “Gabby, are you sure this is where you wanted to go?” she asks, her eyes wide as she looks around the room. Gabby nods and speaks with the host, who promptly brings the three of us to a small, circular booth in the far back corner of the lounge. I slide in after Daphni, facing Gabby. Her eyes are flitting around the room, as if she is trying to see everything at once. We all reach for the plastic menus on the table and Daph‐ ni’s eyes continue to grow impossibly wider as she reads and keeps sneaking furtive glances back at her sister. When the waiter returns to take our orders, Daphni turns to her sister. “Well, Gabby since this was your choice why don’t you order for us?” Looking down at the menu, Gabby skims her finger down. “Okay, we’ll get two brownies, please. Three of the peach Dixie Elixirs. And we will take one Maui Wowie,” 214 JADE WEBB

Gabby says before closing her menu and handing it over to the waiter. “Right on. Did you want the Maui Wowie as a joint or a bong?” he asks. “Joint is fine. Thank you,” Gabby replies. An amused smile tugs at my lips as I watch Daphni continue to nervously look around, her eyes wide, as if she expects the DEA to rush in any moment now and drag her to a cell. Gabby, on the other hand, looks far more relaxed as she sinks into the cushions of the booth. “This is an interesting choice of venue, Gabby,” Daphni comments, breaking the silence. “Well, when in Rome,” Gabby answers flippantly. Daphni tugs her baseball cap down a bit farther over her head. All her blue hair is tucked in tightly, and the dimmed lights combined with all the smoke is a good cover for her. We continue to sit in awkward silence until the waiter returns. He deposits everything in front of Gabby before rushing away. For a Tuesday night, this place is absolutely packed. Gabby divides the drinks and then reaches for the lighter in the middle of the table. Lighting the joint in her mouth, she takes a long inhale and then releases a thick cloud of smoke. Taking another hit, she nods appreciatively before handing it over to her dumbfounded sister. Daphni takes a quick drag, which sends her into a coughing spree. She almost drops the joint but Gabby pulls it from her fingers and hands Daphni her drink. As she takes a long sip, Gabby takes another hit before passing it back to her sister. “Daphni, have you never smoked before?” Gabby asks with an amused smile on her face. Daphni shrugs her shoulders. “I’d rather get a vodka Red Bull than get high and eat Twinkies all night.” Gabby rolls her eyes and then, placing the joint in Daph‐ GUARDING HER HEART 215 ni’s lips, instructs her on how to take a solid hit. After a few tries, Gabby deems Daphni beyond help and passes me the joint. I shake my head politely. “I’m on the clock.” Daphni pouts, pursing her lips as she gives me her best puppy eyes. “Liam, just this once.” I shake my head again. Smiling mischievously, Daphni gestures to her sister. “Do it for Gabby, then.” Gabby takes a cue from her sister and gives me an impish wink. “Yeah, Liam. Take the hit.” They both begin banging their fists on the table, chanting, “Take the hit!” “Very mature, ladies,” I comment as I roll my eyes and take the lit joint from Daphni. I take a long hit, keeping the smoke in my chest before exhaling it in a long gust. I haven’t smoked in years and I can feel the effects immedi‐ ately as each of my muscles loosens and the tension floats away. “Not bad,” I comment as I take one last hit and pass the joint across the table back to Gabby. When our hands touch, her green eyes jump to mine. They stay locked on me as she brings the joint up to her lips and takes a long hit. When she blows out the smoke, she closes her eyes and leans back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face. Daphni stares wide-eyed at her sister. “Gabby, since when did you become such a stoner?” “I’m not a stoner, Daphni. But, I can fully attest to the many benefits of a nice, properly packed joint to aide with the studying of macroeconomics at two in the morning.” Daphni’s jaw drops even more and I can’t help but smile at the sight. Falling back in her seat, Daphni crosses her arms over her chest. “I can’t believe it. My sister is a stoner.” “You know, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Gabby says with a spark in her eye. 216 JADE WEBB

“Apparently so,” Daphni responds as she absently takes a large bite out of the untouched fudge brownie on the table. As she takes another bite, Gabby holds back a chuckle, causing a flush of pink to tint her cheeks. Only when Daphni reaches for a third bite does Gabby shoot out her hand and stop her sister. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Gabby warns. “Why? I did my cardio this morning, I can have—” Daph‐ ni’s face drops the moment she realizes that the brownie she had been stuffing into her mouth wasn’t just an innocent baked good. “Oh no. Am I high?” She drops the brownie on the table. “Gabby, am I high?” Gabby’s face flushes a bright pink as she tries to hold back a laugh. “Daphni, seriously? You’ve been high before. And those were pharmaceuticals. At least this is all natural.” Daphni’s eyes widen as she shakes her head. “Okay, true. But I didn’t get ‘high’ so I could see unicorns, I did it so I could stay up late and party. God, Gabby if I see any kind of dancing gummy bears or any weird shit like that, I’m going to kill you.” Finally Gabby can’t suppress her laughter and she doubles over, her eyes glistening as Daphni glares at her. After a few long moments, she finally calms down. “You know, Daphni, unicorns are the national animal of Scotland.” “Bullshit,” Daphni says. “Well,” I start to say before Gabby holds up her hand, silencing me. “You want to bet, Daphni?” Daphni rolls her eyes and looks at me. “If you learn anything from me, Liam, learn this: Gabby will turn anything into a bet. Even if she knows she’s wrong, she just likes the thrill of it.” She turns her focus back to her sister. “Okay, I’ll bite. How much do you want to bet?” GUARDING HER HEART 217

Gabby holds up the half-eaten brownie. “Loser eats the brownie. Whole thing. Tonight.” Daphni shakes her head. “Fine.” She pulls out her phone, and as she types the search into the web browser, her face quickly falls. Dropping the phone onto the table, she turns to glare at me. “You couldn’t warn me?” I shrug my shoulders apologetically as Gabby hands her sister the brownie. Daphni stares dejectedly at it before stuffing the whole piece into her mouth. She glares at her sister as she chews it, crossing her arms at her chest. It only takes a few minutes before Daphni’s eyes glaze over and her movements start to slow. She starts to laugh loudly, and Gabby’s eyes widen in amusement at the change in her sister. “This is worth every penny,” she says, leaning toward me. “But I think it might be a good idea to get her back into bed.” “Agreed.” I call over the waiter to settle the bill and we gather our things and stand up from the booth. We each loop an arm through Daphni and bring her outside, where she has now decided to start singing. After helping Daphni into the backseat of the car, Gabby closes the door and looks up at me. “I never had the chance to thank you for...” She smiles uncomfortably and rolls her eyes. “Well, everything really.” I shake my head. “You don’t need to thank me.” “Okay. Well, I had fun tonight. At least let me thank you for that?” Behind us, Daphni rolls down her window before rolling it back up, then back down again. “Did you guys ever wonder how automatic windows are kind of like a metaphor for how our expectations of life are just illusions?” she asks as she pokes her head outside. Gabby and I share a smile and I gesture to her sister. “Per‐ 218 JADE WEBB haps it should be Daphni you’re thanking for putting that smile on your face again.” Gabby laughs as she looks back at her sister. “True.” She looks back at me and sucks her lower lip into her mouth, as if she’s trying to solve a difficult equation. Then, without warning, she perches on her toes and presses a kiss to my lips as she grips my shirt in her hands. The minute I feel her lips on mine, a switch inside of me flips. For weeks my body has been aching for this and with her perfect pink lips on mine, it’s fucking impossible for me to hold back. So I don’t. Instead I push her back against the car, deepening the kiss. My hands find her hips and I grip them as Gabby brings her hands up to wrap around my neck. My tongue slips in her mouth, meeting hers. The hot heat of her mouth makes my dick spring to action and I feel my erection press uncom‐ fortably against my jeans. As my hands skim up her body, the sound of the car’s horn instantly rips me out of the moment. I reluctantly pull away and look into the car to see Daphni in the driver’s seat fumbling with the steering wheel. I curse under my breath and look down to see an amused Gabby watching me. She slips away and opens the driver’s door to pull Daphni out and tuck her in the backseat. Collecting myself, and adjusting my hard dick in my pants, I jump into the driver’s seat and take us back to the hotel. I don’t have a chance to say goodnight to Gabby when I get caught by John on the way up to our rooms needing to discuss the plans for the rest of the week. Reluctantly I watch Daphni and Gabby slip into their hotel room and follow John to go over the week’s schedule. Though I try to listen, I’m too distracted. I can still feel Gabby’s lips crushed against mine, still smell her perfume. And it’s only in the quiet of my bed later that night that, with nothing but silence and my own thoughts surrounding me, that I realize Gabby is it. She’s what I want and everything I never knew I needed. I had GUARDING HER HEART 219 never allowed myself to think of the possibility of settling down with a woman before. I had everything I thought I needed already. Love was never part of my plan. And then she happened. And there’s not a chance in hell that I’m letting her slip out of my arms a second time. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

eaning against the tall pillar backstage, I actually find myself bobbing my head along to Daphni’s L newest song. It’s the first time she’s playing it live. Somehow she had managed to get it recorded while we had a few days off in Salt Lake City and judging by the crowd, they are absolutely loving it. In truth, I am as well. It’s different from her usual stuff, incorporating a bit more electronic synth paired with an orchestral chorus, which, weirdly enough, kind of sounds amazing. “I don’t believe it. Am I finally seeing Gabby Monroe, in the flesh, dancing to Daphni Monroe’s music?” Melissa play‐ fully asks as she approaches, holding her hands up as if she’s filming a documentary. I catch Liam walking beside her and instantly a smile sneaks up my face. “Not dancing,” I argue. “Swaying.” “Say whatever you want. I have it on film,” she says as she again pantomimes a camera. Liam chuckles and I shoot them both an incredulous look before rolling my eyes. “Melissa, your dad jokes are seriously next-level embarrassing.” GUARDING HER HEART 221

Melissa dramatically flips her long, red hair over her shoulder. “Whatever, Gabby. I know you love them. Anyways, I got to scoot. We are working on trying to get Daphni a performance slot for the American Music Awards.” “Hi,” I say, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious as my brain instantly replays our kiss from last night. I had fallen asleep with the taste of him on my lips and a dorky smile plastered on my face. Daphni hadn’t shut up about it either, and had insisted I give her a play-by-play reenact‐ ment. And now that he was here again, all I could do was stare at his lips and pray they would find their way back to mine again. I was done with the bullshit. I wanted him, and judging by the way his body reacted last night, and the bulge I felt against my stomach, I knew he wanted it, too. “Hi,” he responds, and I feel a jab of surprise at how nervous he looks. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks over to the stage where Daphni is performing before bringing his piercing grey eyes back to mine. “Did you sleep well last night?” “Very well, thank you.” This all sounds so foreign and uncomfortable. I force my eyes to look into his and I’m generously rewarded. Liam’s eyes are locked on mine, and I can see burning passion and need swirling in his dark-grey irises. He’s my favorite open book, and while it scared me how easily he wore his emotions in his eyes and on his face, in this moment I am grateful. Because in his eyes I can recognize the same need I have inside of me for his touch and his lips against mine. I don’t know if I’m the one to take a step closer, if he is, or if we both do at the same time. All I know is that somehow my hands are on his chest, my fingers gripping his shirt as our lips connect and all the noise and people around us fade into nothing. With his lips on mine, I close my eyes and willingly 222 JADE WEBB surrender myself to Liam, let him dominate all of my senses. I allow myself to fall captive to the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the sweetness of his lips, the feel of his fingers digging into my hips, and the sound of our two breaths becoming one. He consumes every single inch of me and, like an addict, I know that after this kiss, I’ll only want more. But I just can’t care because I know I'm already too far gone. Because something about Liam has sparked something inside of me that I want to explore. I want to know what it feels like to be held by him, to be owned by him. So I tilt my head, opening my lips, allowing him to more fully taste me as he dips his tongue into my mouth. I feel dizzy and drunk as his tongue explores every inch of my mouth and his hands dig through my hair, pulling me closer to him. Only when the roar of the crowd swells as Daphni finishes her song do our lips finally break apart. Liam’s breaths come out in short pants as he wraps his arms around me, binding my body to his. “What are you doing to me, Gabby?” he whispers into my hair as he dusts a series of soft kisses on the crown of my head. It’s a simple question, but I don’t know how to respond. So I press my cheek against his chest and remain silent. And as I feel his heart pound, I realize with a fear I’ve never expe‐ rienced that I think I may be falling for Liam. With a kiss and a simple question, he may have managed to chip away at the barricades I had spent years building to guard my heart. And it’s that thought that terrifies me the most. CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

he second I feel my phone vibrate, I dig it out of my back pocket. Still, I can’t stop the smile from T spreading across my face as I read the message. 5 minutes. 2214. I feel a heat course through my body in anticipation as I read the message. I glance around the hotel suite and see more than a dozen crew members crowded around the tele‐ vision set, watching some movie and drinking beer. They’re all oblivious, and thank fucking God, because I know I have a ridiculous smile on my face and an emerging hard-on in my pants. The next five minutes are painfully glacial, but I’m easily able to slip out of the room and make a quick exit. Most of the team has the night off tonight, since Daphni is back in L.A. for three days for the Teen Choice Awards. When Gabby had told Daphni she wanted to stay in Houston to study, Daphni had suddenly decided that I needed a few days off as well and insisted that I also stay behind. Say what you want about her, but Daphni Monroe was quickly becoming one of my best friends. 224 JADE WEBB

Most of the crew had also decided to hang back in Hous‐ ton, and despite the fact that we’ve all been living on top of each other for the last three months and spend our free time bitching about our lack of privacy and desire to get away, we’ve somehow all also inevitably decided to spend every minute of our free time together too, drinking beer kept in the ice bath in the hotel bathroom and ordering pizza delivery. Needless to say, I’ll take any excuse to leave. I knock on the door to 2214 and a second later, it clicks open and I slip inside. Gabby’s arms instantly wrap around my neck as she pulls me in for a kiss. I happily oblige as I follow her and we collapse onto each other on the couch. “Did anyone see you leave?” she asks as she pulls herself off me. “No one was paying attention,” I respond before pulling her back in for another kiss. She responds just as eagerly, and I feel the blood racing through my body begin to flow to my dick, hardening it instantly. This has become an ongoing issue now that Gabby and I are…whatever the fuck we are. Ever since we first kissed a week ago, we’ve been sneaking in stolen moments alone to be together. Though it’s been excit‐ ing, it’s also been fucking exhausting. I am trying to be respectful of Gabby’s desire to be more private, especially after everything that happened with Jordan, but it’s tiring. I also don’t particularly like hiding my relationship. And though I try to push back the anxiety, I can’t help but wonder: Does she even think this is a relationship? “Liam, what’s wrong?” Gabby asks, a concerned look on her face as she watches me. “Let me take you out,” I blurt out. “Out? Like on a date?” Gabby asks, her brow knit in confusion. GUARDING HER HEART 225

“Yes, I want to take you out on a date.” “I thought we agreed that we didn’t want to be public about this.” “No, you decided that,” I say, raking a frustrated hand through my hair. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t hide you from anyone.” Gabby sits up. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Hiding you?” “Well, what else do you call what we’re doing? You only talk to me when there’s no one else around. You won’t let me hold your hand or kiss you unless we’re behind a locked door,” I reply, the frustration obvious in my voice. “Liam, every day we are surrounded by dozens of people. Staff, assistants, publicists, paparazzi. I don’t want people to think they can see what we have and judge it and ruin it. I want for whatever we have to be for just us.” “So you want to keep me your hidden secret?” “Yes! No! I don’t know!” Gabby pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her head. “I don’t know, Liam. The first rela‐ tionship I ever had ended with him trying to assault me in a bathroom while fifty cameras captured it for the world to see. I’m just scared.” I reach for Gabby, lifting her chin, forcing her eyes to look into mine. “Gabby, I am not Jordan. I would never hurt you. I don’t want anything from you. All I want is to take my girlfriend out for a nice date. Buy her flowers, take her out to a nice restaurant where we can get two meals for $25 with a free appetizer.” She lets out an adorable snort and rolls her eyes. “Wait, did you just call me your girlfriend?” “Yeah, why?” “You think I’m your girlfriend?” “Of course you’re my fucking girlfriend, Gabby.” 226 JADE WEBB

Gabby’s face lights up and she jumps on top of me, pinning me with her legs on either side. Wrapping her arms around me, she presses a firm kiss on my lips. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s do it.” CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

hat’s what you’re wearing?” “ I look down at my outfit and frown. “What’s T wrong with what I’m wearing?” Daphni rolls her eyes and comes to stand next to me in the mirror. Cupping her chin with her hand, she surveys my outfit. “Okay, you either need to be showing legs or boobs. And you’re not doing either. Also you need to wear your hair down and play with it through the night. It’s sexy and will totally make him want to grab it while he pins you down and—” I cover my ears and shake my head. “Okay, okay. I’ll wear my hair down,” I concede. “But I’m not changing—I like this outfit and besides, we’re leaving in like three minutes.” I pull out my ponytail and let Daphni play with my hair until she’s satisfied. For my date with Liam, I had decided on a simple, dark heather-grey pencil skirt, white tank, and cropped jean jacket with a wedge heel. Though I would never admit it to Daphni, this was actually the seventh outfit I had tried on. I was nervous. This was new ground for me and 228 JADE WEBB

Liam. This was not just a date for us: it was our debut. We would be leaving the safety and comfort of our bubble, and it terrified me. A knock at the door finally gets Daphni off me, and she rushes gleefully to the hotel door. “Daphni! Stop!” I screech, but it’s too late. She opens the door and gestures for Liam to enter. The minute I see him, I can’t stop myself from smiling. He’s wearing his usual uniform: dark-grey dress pants and a black button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the familiar peek of black ink. God, what was it about rolled- up sleeves and tattoos that got me so hot and bothered? “You look lovely, Gabby,” Liam says as he crosses the room to offer me a quick kiss on my cheek. “Thanks,” I mumble awkwardly, painfully aware of Daphni watching us, a huge smile on her face. “Oh, Liam. Flowers? For me? You shouldn’t have!” Daphni exclaims as she pulls the flowers from Liam’s hands. Liam smiles in amusement, playing along as he gives me a wink. “And Liam, good sir, pray tell, are your intentions with my sister noble and pure?” Daphni asks, in a mock British accent. “Daphni!” I hiss, glaring at her. Liam smiles and reaches for my hand as he leads me out the door. “My intentions are completely noble, Daphni,” he promises as we leave the room. Once the door closes, he pins me against it and kisses me. “But I must admit, they aren’t the most pure,” he whispers against my lips as he breaks the kiss. _____ “Okay. I have never been to Albania. I think frogs are actually adorable, and I think mustaches are kind of gross.” GUARDING HER HEART 229

Liam nods along thoughtfully and pauses a long moment to think. “The frogs. That’s the lie.” A large smile stretches across my face and I shake my head triumphantly. “Nope. I love frogs and they are adorable. Mustaches on the other hand? Disgusting! Drink up!” I push the milkshake toward Liam and he takes a long sip from the bright, neon-pink straw. After walking for two hours just talking, we had stumbled into a diner. We discovered that we both have an unnatural aversion to the texture of milkshakes, so we decided to order the largest one they have and head right into a game of “two truths and a lie.” I was having a wonderful time discovering that Liam has a pathetic poker face and is the absolute worst liar on this planet. While I, on the other hand, was scarily fantastic. “I don’t think I can drink any more of this rubbish. I can feel it sliding down my throat,” he complains. “Fine, I’ll give you a break. I am still struggling to under‐ stand how someone who spent six years doing surveillance is incapable of telling a simple lie.” Liam shoots me a playful glare as he stands up from the table and walks over to pull out my chair. Even though we had ended up at this hole-in-the-wall diner, Liam still insists on opening every door and pulling out my chair for me. Once back on the street, Liam pins his grey eyes on me, sending a shiver of heat and awareness right through me. “What are you up for, Gabby?” he asks, and I know what he is asking me. When I bring my eyes to look in his and see the same desire swirling through him that is consuming me, I know what he is asking, and I know it’s exactly what I want. “Let’s go back to the hotel.” Liam hails a cab, and a short while later we’re back at the hotel. I can feel my whole body radiating nervous energy. 230 JADE WEBB

Silently, we head up to my room, and once the door closes, I turn to look at Liam. “Are you okay?” Liam asks, his brow furrowed with concern. I smile weakly and nod. Twisting my hands at my waist, I walk toward the bed and sit on the edge. I force myself to drop my hands to my sides and I look up again to Liam. He crosses the room in two strides and sits on the bed next to me. Reaching for my face, he tilts my chin so I’m facing him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” I nod. “I know.” He kisses my lips softly, caressing my cheek with his hand. I force myself to relax into his touch and bring my hands up to wrap around his neck. His hand leaves my face and slowly skims down my body. As his lips move to kiss my neck, he pushes my jean jacket off my shoulders until it comes to rest on the bed behind me. I let my head fall back, giving him greater access to nip softly on my neck. His hands continue to roam until they find my breasts. When his thumb skims over my nipple, it sends a jolt of electricity through my body and I moan. The sound inflames Liam and he eagerly claims my mouth again with his, thrusting his tongue into my mouth as he kneads my breasts, bringing my nipples to hard peaks. I bring my own hands down to roam the contours of his hard chest. I feel a surge of power when I feel his muscles ripple as my fingers skim over him, knowing that my touch has the ability to affect him so physically. When Liam tugs at the edge of my shirt, I lift my arms and let him pull it off me. My bra disappears a moment later and Liam gently pushes me down on the bed. Almost completely naked, I suddenly feel a wave of nerves wash over me and I move my arms to cover my breasts. GUARDING HER HEART 231

“Liam, I need to tell you something,” I say, pushing up to a seated position and wrapping the blanket around my exposed breasts. “What is it, love?” He looks at me so tenderly, the concern so obvious on his face that it momentarily takes my breath away. “I…I’ve never actually had sex before,” I say after taking a deep inhale. “What?” “I’m a virgin,” I clarify. Liam’s eyes blaze into mine. “How is it you have walked this Earth for twenty-two years and remained a virgin?” “I never found anyone worth it, I guess,” I reply, biting down on my lower lip, suddenly feeling incredibly self- conscious. “Gabby, I promise you it will be worth it,” Liam says, taking my hands in his. “I’m happy to be your first. Thank you for giving me this gift.” Liam presses his lips against mine as he again gently pushes me down on the bed. Standing over me, he unbuttons his shirt, casting it to the ground. He keeps his pants on as he lies down next to me. His lips find my neck and he kisses me as he massages my breast with his hand. Moving his face down, he takes my other nipple in his mouth, suckling it until I arch my back with need. His other hand replaces his mouth as he kisses a trail down my belly. Once he reaches my skirt, he pulls it down and it falls to the floor. My underwear follows and suddenly bare to him, I prop my head up to look down at him. The sight of his face settled between my legs sends a heat to my cheeks. Liam sees this and pauses, catching my eye. “Do you trust me, Gabby?” When I nod, Liam’s hands move to grip my thighs, pulling my legs apart. Exposed to him, Liam inhales and moans with pleasure. I feel a flush of color heat my cheeks as liquid heat 232 JADE WEBB warms my center. Liam’s undeniable excitement and passion is so…erotic, and my body shivers with anticipation. Just when I feel like I can’t take any more, I feel Liam’s slick tongue dart out to taste me. And then, his lips are on me, sucking my bud into his mouth as he flicks his tongue, teasing me and making me pant with need. I curl my fingers into the sheets underneath as Liam continues his assault on my clit, his tongue driving me to the precipice of what I am sure is to be a life-changing orgasm. “Liam,” I moan. The sound of his name on my lips seems to awaken some feral monster inside him, and he continues to suck and nip at my clit as one of his hands shoots up to squeeze my peaked nipple. I feel my body so close to erupting when Liam slowly slides his index finger inside me. My body, now acting completely on instinct and need, thrusts into his touch, urging his finger deeper inside of me. With long, languid licks of his tongue, he slowly slides his finger in and out. I moan his name again as he slides in a second finger. He stretches me and fills me as he continues to pump his fingers inside of me. At the same time, he uses his thumb to continue to stimulate my clit. Sliding himself back up the length of my body, he presses a forceful kiss on my lips. I can taste myself on him as he thrusts his tongue inside me. It feels so erotic and his tongue inside me, along with his two fingers fucking me, finally sends me over the edge. I let out a loud gasp and I feel all the muscles in my body constrict, my toes curling, as a wave of intense pleasure washes over me and my walls clamp down around Liam’s two fingers, still inside me. As I come down from my orgasm, Liam pulls his fingers away, licking my wetness off them, a satisfied smile on his face. “You taste like honey,” he tells me, and I decide right then and there that those are the sexiest words I have ever heard. I GUARDING HER HEART 233 throw my arms around him, wanting his body against mine. I curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt and throw my leg over him, capturing him in my embrace. Liam responds by wrapping his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. In the silence of that moment, with my ear pressed against Liam’s chest, all I can hear is his beating heart. I know mine is thrashing just as wildly against my own chest, and as my breaths begin to even and my body starts to relax, I let the reverberating sound of his heart slowly lull me into a deep sleep. CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

h no!” “ I force my eyes open and find Gabby wide O awake, holding the white hotel sheet against her naked chest. I prop myself onto my elbows and wipe the sleep from my eyes. “What’s wrong, love?” Looking down at me, her eyes widen. “I fell asleep!” she squeals. “Yeah, you passed out. I must have tuckered you right out,” I add with a wink. Gabby drops her head into her hands. “Oh my God, this is so embarrassing.” “What’s embarrassing?” I ask, confused by her panic. Gabby’s cheeks flush an adorable crimson as she nervously bites down on her plump lower lip. “You… serviced me and then I fell asleep.” “I serviced you?” I ask, arching my brow as I fight back a smile. “Well, you know, you…took care of me. And then I fell asleep. It’s really rude of me.” “It’s rude of you to fall asleep after I made you come?” GUARDING HER HEART 235

“Yes,” she sputters, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of crimson. “I left you high and dry!” I can’t help but laugh. “Gabby, you didn’t leave me anything. I’m perfectly happy ‘servicing’ you.” “Well, it’s not fair—” “Gabby, giving you pleasure sure as hell pleases me, too. You don’t need to feel obligated.” I look down at my watch. “Besides, we should probably get up. I need to pick up your sister soon.” I slide out of bed and stretch my arms over my head to see Gabby’s eyes pop wide open. “You’re naked,” she stammers. I look down and grin sheepishly. “I can’t really sleep with clothes on. I feel constricted.” Her eyes are still wide as they take in my morning erec‐ tion. A bit prideful, I take a small amount of satisfaction in her surprised face. “You can touch it if you want, Gabby. I won’t object.” She blushes again and to my surprise, she crawls toward the edge of the bed and slides down, dropping to her knees in front of me. With a bashful look up toward me, she tenta‐ tively grazes her fingers down the length of my cock, and the light touch drives me mad. Before I have a chance to tell her she has to stop or she’ll make me explode, she grips the base of my cock and opens her mouth, taking me inside her. The sudden surprise of her hot, wet mouth on me has me panting and the room spinning in circles. She dips her head lower, taking more of me in, a satisfying moan coming from her lips, which softly vibrate on my dick. “Fuuuuck, Gabby,” I groan as I push my hands through her thick hair. She continues to bob her head, sliding my cock deep into her mouth and swirling her tongue on the sensitive head, licking up the drips of want that continue to spurt out in 236 JADE WEBB reaction to her touch. With a groan, I use every bit of my willpower to disengage her from my cock, pulling her up to a standing position. It isn’t lost on me that we are both completely naked, and I have to use every inch of willpower to keep from bending her over the bed and sinking myself deep inside her. “If you continue with that, love, I might just have to marry you,” I tell her as I press a kiss on her lips. “Why did you stop me then? You didn’t like it?” “No,” I reply with a forced laugh. “I liked it too much. But I need to take a shower and get ready, and if you keep on doing that, there is no way I will ever be able to leave this room again.” Wrapping my hand in hers, I pull her toward the bath‐ room. “Maybe, though, we can practice a bit of multitasking.” Once in the bathroom, I turn the nozzle of the walk-in shower on. The minute it turns on, I grab Gabby, pulling her into the stall. As the water pours down on us, I feast on her lips and pull her against me, her hot core rubbing against my hard length. Her head falls back and I move my assault down her neck, biting at her skin and soothing it with soft kisses. Something about her has awakened every primal need inside of me and I want to mark her as mine. Sear every inch of her flesh with my touch. All mine. As my head dips to take her rosy nipple into my mouth, Gabby lets out a loud moan. It’s the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Her hands scramble downward until they connect with my cock and with both her hands, Gabby pumps down my hard length. I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, willing my body not to explode right then and there. Taking advantage of my momentary paralysis, Gabby sinks to the floor and before I can open my mouth, she opens hers, eagerly taking in my length as she uses her hands to continue pumping up and down my shaft. Her mouth, and GUARDING HER HEART 237 the intensity of her enthusiastic hands at work, are fucking up my entire field of vision. All I can see is this beautiful woman, the water coasting down every curve of her fucking gorgeous body as she hungrily gives me the best blowjob of my entire life. And while there is nothing I want more than to pull her up, plant her hands on the glass shower door, and fuck her until we both find our release, the greedy bastard in me can’t bear to make her stop, so I continue to let her devour me until I feel my release coming and I groan her name. Like a goddamn dream, Gabby fucking moans as she feels me empty into her mouth, and she gives my cock a soft kiss as she pulls away. I help her back to her feet, feeling completely shattered. Pulling her into my arms, I collapse us both against the tiled wall. “God, Gabby that was amazing,” I tell her as I catch my breath. I feel her smile against me as she tilts her head up, a smile on her face. “Thanks, I practiced a lot.” And though I hate myself for doing it, I scowl at her, and she laughs as she shakes her head. “I’m just joking,” she says. “I actually just watch a lot of porn.” I feel my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You never cease to surprise me,” I tell her as I press a kiss to her lips. I reach for one of the hotel shampoo bottles and empty it in my hands before gently turning Gabby around and moving my hands to her hair, lathering her long curls. As I massage the shampoo into her hair, I lower my head and nibble at her ear. Squealing, she jumps backward, her ass pressing against me, and somehow my cock manages to spring back to full atten‐ tion. Something about this girl has just gotten me so hooked, and I know right then and there, there’s no fucking way I’m letting her go. CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

itting across the table from Liam, I force myself to think of anything other than this morning, but S nothing is working. I’ve tried global warming, aban‐ doned kittens on the side of the highway, those sad late-night infomercials asking for money for orphans, all to no avail. Liam has somehow managed to occupy every inch of my brain. We are with at least thirty other people in the back room of some restaurant in New Orleans. Daphni has decided to take the dancers and some of the crew out for a fancy dinner, and even though we are all packed in this back room, with everyone shouting and bursting into spontaneous singa‐ longs, my eyes keep drifting back to Liam. From across the table, I feel the heat in his hooded eyes as he watches me, too. I swear I can feel his phantom touch. His eyes keep gravitating back to me, and I see in them the same heated passion I know must be in mine. I want him. Badly. When he catches me watching him again, my breath catches in my throat as he offers me a tilted smile, one that holds a secret just for us two. GUARDING HER HEART 239

Those lips. God, I want to feel his lips on me again. Suck‐ ing, tasting, teasing me. And I want to do the same to him. My mouth is dry with desire, aching to feel his long length slide inside again, to suck him dry one more time. Every inch of him is so addictive and I can't wait to get another taste. Because I knew that with Liam, I want everything. And as I squeeze my thighs in anticipation, I realize that I can't wait any longer. I want it tonight. “Woah, Earth to Gabby!” I blink my eyes to see Daphni staring at me, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “You there?” I shake my head. “Yeah, sorry, I was just daydreaming.” “Daydreaming, right,” she responds, dragging out each syllable before turning her attention back to everyone at the table. “Anyways, I was just saying that since tomorrow we are back to the grind of tour, tonight we are going out!” At her announcement, everyone in the room begins to cheer and bang on the table. I shoot a sympathetic look to the wait staff huddling in the corner. “Daphni, I don’t really think I can go out tonight,” I whisper to her. “What’s your excuse now?” Daphni asks, her emerald eyes twinkling with mischief. “Same excuse as pretty much every time. My LSATs are in less than two months. This is crunch time. I’ve got to study.” Daphni rolls her eyes. “Okay you get a free pass. But only because I love you!” I elbow her softly in the side. “Thanks, sis, for releasing me from your contractually obligated shit fest.” Daphni elbows me back before focusing her attention across the table, calling out, “Liam!” He looks up at her, and I feel my stomach sink as I offer to sacrifice my first-born son for Daphni to not completely embarrass me in this moment. 240 JADE WEBB

“Yes, Daphni?” “I’m going to need you to prep the guys to take us out tonight. I need you to hang back and help my sister ‘study’,” she orders, as she holds up her fingers to quote the word “study.” Liam immediately shakes his head. “Daphni, I can go with you. Just because I’m—” “No, you’re off tonight,” she says, cutting him off. “And don't worry, it’s not just because you’re boning my sister,” she adds, and I drop my head into my hands, wishing I could disappear. “Just take the night off. She’s not going to be any fun until she takes her LSATs anyways.” Liam wisely doesn’t respond and instead winks at me. I decide to forgive my sister as I feel a warm liquid pool in my center. Tonight. Tonight I’m finally going to make love. With Liam. After another hour, dinner is finally over and everyone spills out of the restaurant to make their way to the club. Liam and I linger behind and grab a taxi back to the hotel. “You know, I actually do have to study,” I tell him as we walk into the hotel lobby. “Of course, love,” Liam answers, a playful smile on his face as he grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers together. “I have no intention of stopping you. In fact, I actu‐ ally have a study method proven very effective in helping to retain information.” “Oh really, what is it?” “You see, I take those little flashcards you always carry about. And I make you answer them. And for every right answer, you have to take off a piece of clothing,” he says, the corners of his lips curving into a seductive smile. “Don’t you mean for every wrong answer?” “Ah, no!” Liam says, shaking his head. “You’re too smart GUARDING HER HEART 241 for us to do it that way. It would take far too long to get you naked, and I don’t think I can wait much longer.” “And when do you get naked, then?” As we step into the elevator, Liam’s fingers start to undo the buttons around his collar. “Oh, I start the game off naked.” CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

re you sure the answer is C? I feel like it might “ have been B,” I ask, trying to get a look at the note‐ A card Liam keeps pulling out of my reach. “No, you were right. Take them off,” Liam orders, throwing the notecard on the ground. I scurry over to pick it up. “Liar! It was B! I knew I was wrong.” Liam pulls the card out of my hand and hoists me onto his lap. He’s fully naked and has been sporting a prominent erection for the last half hour. Despite it, he has insisted that I study, though it has been admittedly incredibly distracting. Now with it poking into my belly, with nothing but my thin, lace panties separating us, my brain has completely evapo‐ rated away. “You got it right,” he argues as he dips his head down to kiss me. I wrap my arms around him and nestle in closer, pushing against his erection and eliciting a groan from him. In one movement, he wraps his arms around me and jumps up from the ground, carrying me to the bed. His lips never GUARDING HER HEART 243 leave mine as we fall onto the soft mattress, his long, hard body covering mine. I let him consume me, dragging his hot mouth from my lips, down to my neck, down to my exposed breasts. He takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking it and then pinching it between his teeth. His playful nipping instantly sends a shiver through my body. I arch my back and dig my hands through his thick hair, eager for him to continue his nimble assault on my body. His hands find my panties and with a groan, he completely tears them, pulling the ripped pieces off of me. He covers my surprised, open mouth with a kiss and I dig my nails into his shoulders as I feel his warm tongue dip inside my mouth. As I moan, Liam pulls away and I feel my breath hitch in my throat at the intensity of his charcoal-grey eyes looking at me. My stomach knots in anticipation. I know that tonight, Liam and I are going to make love. And a part of me is terrified that this is going to change everything for us forever. But I also don't care; I want it. I want him. “I want you to make love to me,” I tell him as I bring my eyes to look into his. He responds by kissing me, a kiss so full of passion and need and desire that it takes my breath away and sends an elec‐ tric sliver of want through my body. As he kisses me, his hand snakes down my body until he reaches my center. He deftly separates my folds and his fingers start caressing me with soft, long strokes. I moan into his lips, and he takes the opportunity to dart his tongue into my mouth at the same moment as he turns his wrist to slide two fingers deep inside me. Keeping his thumb pressed against my hard clit, he continues to pump his fingers inside of me, making me quiver with desire. “Liam, I need you,” I manage to say in between desperate pants. 244 JADE WEBB

“Almost there, love,” he replies, his own voice unrecogniz‐ able and husky, laced with need. He slowly pulls his fingers out, holding them up to his lips as his tongue darts out, licking them. At the taste of me on his lips, he groans and clenches his eyes shut. “God, you taste so fucking amazing.” He pushes himself off the bed and stalks over to his discarded pants. Shaking them, he lets out a frantic curse as he thrusts a frustrated hand through his hair. Propping myself up on my elbows, I look over at him, concerned. “What’s wrong?” “Condom,” he says as he continues digging through his pockets. “Oh. Do we need one?” He stops searching and turns to look at me, a wide smile on his face. “Are you looking to make little Liams already, love?” I roll my eyes. “I’m on birth control. I’ve been on it for years.” He shoots me a quizzical look. “I got really bad cramps, so the birth control helps with that. So if you want, I mean, if you’re—” “I’m clean,” he offers. “Okay,” I say. “Okay,” he repeats, dropping his pants on the floor. Coming back on top of me, he kisses me gently. “You know, I’ve never made love without a condom before,” he says. I smile at his confession. “Well, I’m happy to be your first,” I say in a mock Scottish brogue, mimicking his words from the other day. He laughs at my pathetic imitation and kisses me again. His fingers trail down my body, finding their way back to my warm center. With quick, eager strokes, Liam has me panting again in mere seconds. Positioning his cock at my entrance, GUARDING HER HEART 245 he locks his eyes on mine. He leans down to kiss me as he slowly pushes himself inside me. I feel my body tense as his head enters me, filling me. He’s going so slowly, and as he pulls his face away from mine, I see the deep lines in his fore‐ head as he fights to keep himself from plunging all the way inside me. When he pushes an inch more of himself inside again, I thrust my hips forward, taking him in fully. I let out a loud gasp as I feel all of his thick, hard length inside me, stretching me in a way I've never felt before. “Are you okay, love?” he asks, his lips against my ear. I nod and bite down on my lip. “You just feel really big.” He chuckles and shifts his hips to pull out a bit. “I promise to make you feel good, Gabby.” He locks his eyes on mine as he hovers over me. "I need you to trust me." As he looks at me, I wonder if he realizes how much he is asking of me. Does he know how badly I want to trust him? Can he see it in my eyes as easily as I can see his feelings in his? I'm too afraid. Can I give him my body without letting him conquer my heart? "Gabby?" Liam asks, his brow furrowed in concern when I bring my eyes back to look at him. "I trust you." The words spill out of my mouth. And when I see the relief wash over Liam's face, I know I can't call them back. He dips his head and kisses me again, rocking his hips so that he thrusts inside of me again. I force away all my worries and fears and wrap my legs around him. With slow, languid thrusts he fucks me over and over again. The pain fades away and I begin to wholly enjoy the sensation of him inside me, filling every inch of me. Our breathes become one as we both pant and moan in pleasure. His thrusts grow faster and more frantic as he takes my nipple in his mouth, suckling and teasing it. I arch my back to give him better access and he brings his other hand down to massage my clit. His mouth on my breast, his fingers 246 JADE WEBB teasing my clit, and his cock pumping into me are too much for me to handle. Within minutes, I feel my muscles tense and I let out a cry as my body quivers from my orgasm and my tight walls clench, contracting around Liam until he, too, succumbs, and with a loud groan, empties himself inside of me. For several long moments, Liam stays hovered over me, his face nestled against my neck. He brushes soft kisses against me, keeping his still-hard cock inside of me. When he pulls away, he tucks me under his arm and dusts a kiss on the top of my head. “Gabby, that was bloody amazing," he says between breaths. I'm too scared to respond. Because I know that if I do, he’ll hear too much in my voice. He will know that I made a terrible, fatal, and irreparable mistake. I gave him my heart. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

urry up!” I urge as Liam shoots me an annoyed “ look. He continues to mark the answers on the H scrap paper, then pulls out his phone to calculate the score. It’s my sixth practice test so far and the first full- length one I’ve taken. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. I have no idea how to grade your essay, so I decided to give it both an A++ and a star.” He holds the essay up, proudly displaying the “A++” he had written, along with an oddly shaped star he had tried to draw. I can’t help but smile, but I’m teeming with anxiety. “Okay, forget the essay. What was the overall score of all the other sections?” “One hundred seventy.” My mouth drops open. “One hundred seventy? No way. Let me see that.” I grab my practice test from his lap and pull the pen out of my bun. Adding the scores from the logical reasoning, analytical reasoning, and reading comprehension sections, I then check the answer key a final time. “Oh my God. I got a one hundred seventy!” I squeal as I jump into Liam’s arms and pepper kisses all over his face. 248 JADE WEBB

He laughs and swings me around. “My little genius,” he declares. Bringing me back down, he places a kiss on my forehead. “I’m proud of you.” I continue to shake my head in awe. “You know, I’m kind of proud of myself, too,” I tell him. A mischievous smile crosses his face as he drops his hands to rest on my hips. “You know, I think this calls for a bit of celebration.” “Oh, do you now?” “Oh, aye. I think you should get a nice little reward for doing so well,” he replies as he walks me backward, his hands still on my hips, toward the bed. Once I make contact with the bed, I fall back as Liam towers over me. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he tears it over his head and I let my greedy eyes explore every hard edge of his body. Pushing myself up, I let my hands skim his abs, moving up to his chest, where the dark ink of a tattoo starts. “You’re so beautiful,” I say as I trace the outlines of his tattoos on his chest. Liam quirks his brow and watches me in amusement. “Beautiful, eh?” I smile and nod. “All this ink and your muscles—they make it so when people first see you, you look so tough. But inside, you’re really quite beautiful.” Liam smiles as he presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m only beautiful for you, love,” he whispers in my ear as he skims his lips down my neck, marking me with his tongue. When he gets to my collarbone, he places a series of kisses on my skin as his hands pull my shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor beneath us. Cupping my breasts with his hands, he moans approvingly as he deftly reaches behind me and unclasps my bra. “God, Gabby, everything about you is so perfect,” he GUARDING HER HEART 249 murmurs as he dips his head to suck the hard peak of my nipple into the heat of his mouth. “You were made for me, love.” His words, combined with his touch, completely ignite me, setting my skin aflame. I arch toward him as my fingers fumble at my pants, unbuckling them and kicking them off onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor beneath us. Squirming under his touch, I work on unbuttoning Liam’s jeans. He eagerly complies and with a quick tug, pulls off his boxers to reveal his hard, erect length bobbing against his toned stomach. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he pulls my panties off and dips his head, disappearing between my thighs, as he eagerly feasts on me, his tongue laving at my center, drinking me in. His hands firmly grip my squirming thighs as he takes his fill, eager and hungry. My body tenses as I can feel my release approaching. Reading my body, Liam slides two fingers inside of me and matches his thrusts with the deft movement of his roving tongue. I come instantly, shouting his name as my walls clench around his fingers, still inside me. With a satisfied smile on his face, Liam rises over me and pulls me toward the edge of the bed before sliding inside my wet entrance, his cock effortlessly gliding into me. The minute he is fully ensheathed, his dark eyes close and my name floats from his lips. As he opens his eyes to look down at me, he begins to slowly withdraw. I feel my own eyes roll to the back of my head at his tantalizingly slow retreat from my body. Suddenly, he shifts, and with a quick thrust, he’s back inside. He continues to fuck me this way: agonizingly slow with‐ drawals followed by frantic, quick thrusts, until I’m panting, repeating his name like a prayer as my body prepares for another earth-shattering orgasm. I can see he is just as close; 250 JADE WEBB his muscles ripple as he tries to control himself, ensuring that I receive my pleasure first. “Liam, please,” I whisper, my voice desperate and frantic. “Don’t hold back. Just…just fuck me like you need to.” My words set off something inside of him. Suddenly, his features change and I see a whole different side of Liam. He drops down on top of me, holding himself up by his palms as he frantically and relentlessly fucks me, over and over. His mouth finds my shoulder and he bites down as he groans with each frenzied thrust. The sound of his husky, masculine groans in my ear send me over the edge and I shout my release as I feel my entire body tremble with pleasure. A second later, Liam groans as he thrusts into me again, his arms trembling at my sides as he comes, everything inside of him shooting inside of me, uniting us. He collapses on top of me, pressing soft kisses on my neck. “Thank you,” he whispers, over and over. As we both catch our breaths, our hearts hammering against our chests, he rolls away and pulls me toward him, tucking me under his arm. “Ah, Gabby,” he says, expelling a long breath. “You fucking own me, woman.” I chuckle and press myself closer to him. I rest my head over his chest, my ear pressed against his racing heart. “I’m demanding that, for the rest of the tour, you stay in my hotel room. No way am I letting you go. And now that I think about it, every night after that sounds good, too,” Liam declares as he closes his eyes, a content and satisfied smile on his face. I smile and look up at him, rolling my eyes. “How about we just enjoy tonight?” Settling deeper into the crook of his arm, I add, “Who knows where we’ll be even a week from now?” As the words leave my mouth, I can feel Liam’s body GUARDING HER HEART 251 tense beneath me. He shifts in the bed, pulling his arm from underneath me and propping himself on his elbow to face me. His eyes bore into mine, a deep indent forming as he furrows his brow. “What do you mean, ‘Who knows where we’ll be?'” I shrug my shoulders, forcing my eyes to escape his pene‐ trating gaze. “Once I get my scores back, I can start applying to schools and hopefully move back East, go to Georgetown or Harvard, or wherever. And you’ll still be working for Daphni. We’ll be going in separate directions." And because Liam wears every emotion on his face, I can see his confusion as the words spill out of my mouth. And still, I can't stop myself. I want to force my lips closed, tell him it was all a mistake. But I can't. Because I'm terrified, and because when Liam looks at me, I don't see just desire and need in his eyes. I see something more. So when I say the next words, I convince myself it's to protect him, and not because I'm too afraid to let him know I've fallen. "Liam, I'm going to law school and you're a bodyguard. We're too different." My words have their intended effect and Liam's jaw tenses as his eyes darken. “Right, I’m just a bodyguard,” Liam repeats, the hurt marking his features evident. I push myself up into a seated position, covering myself with the sheet. "Can't we just enjoy being together now? Why do we have to talk about the future?" “Why? What’s the point?” Liam asks as he tears out of the bed, reaching for his pants on the floor. “Apparently, we’re going in different directions anyway. This,” he says, pointing at me and then back to himself, “has an expiration date for you.” “Liam, there’s no such thing as a fairytale happy ending. Why do we have to complicate this?" Even though I can see 252 JADE WEBB how my words are imploding everything in front of me, I can’t stop myself from saying them. “I’m not an idiot, Gabby. I know life isn’t a fairytale. But look me in the eye and tell me that this isn’t something special here.” “Liam, even if it is, we would destroy each other. We live different lives, Liam.” Liam’s jaw ticks as he steps away. He looks away and nods slowly. “So, that is really how you see me, then? As just a bodyguard?” I don't respond. I'm a coward and I tear my eyes away. And that alone says more than every terrible, hurtful word I've already said. “It is how you see me.” He turns and rakes his fingers through his hair. “How could I ever think that a person like you could care for someone like me?” “A person like me? What is that supposed to mean?” “A girl who grew up having everything. Your mansions, your cars, your clothes—they’re just things, Gabby.” Grab‐ bing my hand, he presses it to his chest, where I can feel his heart beating beneath my palm. “Do you feel this? I am real, Gabby. I am here. I love you. I know you feel it.” I pull my hand back before I can let him feel my palm trembling against him. Before he can realize that I’m purposefully destroying everything. Because I know I love Liam. But I am a coward, and a liar. So I shake my head. “I can’t love you Liam.” “You can’t, or you don’t?” he demands. “I don’t,” I whisper. Liam looks at me and I can read the stunned hurt and surprise on his face and it rips me apart. But instead of calling back my words, telling him it was all a terrible mistake, I let him storm away, slam the door, and walk out of my life. CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

o, to clarify: your plan is to just loiter around the “ house until you take your LSATs next week S and then…?” “Then I am going to law school and will be out of your hair, Law. Don’t worry,” I snap back. “Okay, well considering you are in such a delightful mood, I’m going to say we can have this conversation later.” I roll my eyes and collapse onto Lawrence’s couch with a box of Isabel’s Fruit Loops. Shoving them into my mouth, I flip through the channels on his TV before finally settling on a Spanish telenovela. “Auntie Gabby, you don’t look so good.” The sound of my niece’s voice behind me makes me jump up, spilling the box of Fruit Loops all over the floor. Lawrence’s dog, Julep, happily pounces over to help clean up the mess. “Oh, Isabel. I didn’t see you,” I say as I clean the cereal off my shirt. “I’m okay, you don’t need to worry.” She gives me a side-eye that I can only assume she learned from Daphni. “You don’t look okay.” 254 JADE WEBB

“Well, it’s complicated, honey.” “Daddy says you dumped your boyfriend and ran away,” Isabel says matter-of-factly. “No, Daddy didn’t say that!” Lawrence yells out from the other room. “Well, Daddy’s wrong,” I shout so Lawrence can hear me. “Men usually are, Isabel.” With that comment, Lawrence comes back in the room. “Okay, before you make my daughter an antisocial hermit who counts sugar cereal as a food group and has trust issues with men, I’m going to step in.” Lawrence presses a quick kiss to his daughter’s head. “Isabel, why don’t you go up and play in your room?” As Isabel leaves, Lawrence sits down on the edge of the coffee table to face me. “Gabby, what is your deal?” he asks, his eyes pinning me. “What do you mean?” I ask, avoiding his stare. “Daphni told me about Liam. He sounds like a really nice guy, Gabby. What happened?” I shrug, doing my best to look unaffected. “It wasn’t going to work.” “Why not?” “He wanted to be in a relationship and I’m going to law school. It wouldn’t work out.” “Okay, right. And it wouldn’t work because law school is on another planet and the commute would just be too long?" Lawrence asks, obviously annoyed. "Gabby, you don’t even know where you want to go to school yet. Maybe Liam would want to go with you? Or you can try it long distance for a while?” “It’s not that simple, Law. I mean, come on! Look at Mom and Dad! They were miserable their whole lives!” “Gabby, you are not Mom and Dad. They made their choices. They chose a miserable life over being honest with GUARDING HER HEART 255 themselves." He blows out a frustrated breath. "You are too smart for your own good sometimes, you know that? You overanalyze and overthink everything. Some things you just know with your gut.” “Lawrence, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be dishing out relationship advice when your ex-fiancé literally tried to run you over with a car.” “Wow, Gabby. So you’re going for the low blows, now.” “I’m sorry. But seeing your relationship with Fiona and Daphni’s insane relationship with Drizzle…Don’t you think our DNA has just doomed us to be either completely alone or married and miserable?” “No, I think that’s absolute bullshit. And what makes it even sadder is that you’re letting your fear prevent you from falling in love with someone who could be really amazing for you.” I shake my head. “So even after everything you went through with Fiona—the broken ribs, the restraining orders, the custody battles—you still think there’s someone out there waiting for you? You still have a chance to find that?” Lawrence shrugs his shoulders. “I honestly don’t know, Gabby. But I do know I have Isabel, and that I will love her more than I could love anyone else in this world. And I know that if I ever get lucky and get another shot at love, hell yeah I would take it.” CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

ou look like shit, you know.” “ I grab the bag swinging in front of me and Y steady it. Standing behind it, her arms crossed at her chest, her bright-blue hair piled at a bun atop her head, is Daphni, quite literally the last person I want to see right now. “Well, nice to see you, too,” I bite back. Before I can land another punch, Daphni sidesteps to maneuver herself between me and the bag. I hold my hands up in defeat and turn to step away. Daphni grabs my arm to stop me, her hand sliding off my sweaty skin. “Oh, gross,” she says, drying her hands on her pants. “Okay, sorry! Not gross. Wait, Liam. Wait!” I pause and turn to face her, exasperated. “What is it, Daphni?” “I know I am Gabby’s sister, and I get it. Trust me, I do. But before you were her boyfriend, you were my bodyguard and…my friend.” Daphni pauses and looks down at her feet. I realize she’s nervous and it throws me off. I have seen Daphni express a lot of emotions, from homicidal rage to cherubic angel, but never nervous. “And I want to let you GUARDING HER HEART 257 know that on behalf of my sister, and really all womankind, I’m sorry.” I nod, accepting her apology, and start to unwrap the black tape off my hands as Daphni continues. “My sister is a certifiable genius. Seriously, she can read a book in like three hours and can recite Shakespeare and knows how to use a thesaurus. But, she’s also a complete idiot for letting someone as amazing as you slip out of her reach.” She plops herself down on the metal bench and runs her fingers through her bright-blue hair. She looks so dejected. I take a seat next to her and pat her thigh reassuringly. “It’s okay, Daphni.” She offers me a grateful smile as she tilts her head to look at me. “You know, everyone always comments on how me and Gabby are so different. But we’re a lot more alike than anyone, especially she, realizes.” Daph‐ ni’s voice changes and I watch her emerald eyes fade as a powerful memory takes hold of her. “I know I date losers. I had a really great guy once, too, and I threw it all away. And I regret it every single day. I don’t want Gabby to have to live with that kind of regret,” she says, shaking her head. “Well, I think we both know that Gabby is going to do whatever the bloody hell she wants,” I say, a bit more bitterly than I had intended. “You really fell for her, didn’t you?” Daphni asks, her eyes wide with concern. Her bright-green eyes watch me and I shrug my shoulders in defeat. “Yeah, I guess I did,” I admit. She nods thoughtfully before responding. “I’ve tried to talk to her, but every time I bring up your name, she makes some excuse and rushes off the phone.” I blow out a frustrated sigh. “Well at least she takes your 258 JADE WEBB calls.” After our fight last week, Gabby had abruptly left the tour. She had apparently disconnected her phone, too. Daphni places her small hand on mine. She doesn’t say a word, knowing that her silent support is all I need in this moment. After a few minutes, she stands up, placing a quick kiss on my forehead, and affectionately brushes her hand through my hair. “I’m here for you, you know. I know you’re going to abandon me after the tour finishes, but we’re bonded for life. No escaping me,” she adds playfully before sliding out the door. In her absence, with nothing but silence as my company, I feel even more alone. CHAPTER FIFTY

T wo months later…

“IT’S HERE! IT’S HERE!” I pop my head out from my book and watch as Daphni skips through the open doors leading to the back patio, waving her phone in her hand. I shoot out of my seat and rush toward her. “Well, what does it say?” I ask impatiently as she continues to skip around in circles. “I didn’t open it yet. I wanted you to see it first!” she sings as she finally comes to a stop. I grab for her phone and scan the email informing me that my LSAT results are in. After I had taken the exams, I had asked Daphni to sync my email to her phone so she could let me know the instant my results arrived. After leaving Daphni's tour, I had quickly learned that having internet access only made me miserable. For a solid 260 JADE WEBB week, I had spent hours each night looking through social media trying to catch glimpses of Liam in pictures of Daphni. After my sixth night without sleep, I had banned myself from the internet and even trashed my phone. Though I had been a complete emotional wreck, I had forced myself to obsessively study for hours, using the distraction of cramming for the LSATs to serve as a buffer against thinking about Liam. Today I would discover if all that work had paid off. After logging into my online account, I wait for what feels like an eternity before I can finally access my results through the portal. Once I see my score, I drop down into the seat behind me and take a long exhale. I close my eyes and let my body sink into the cushioned seat. Four years of undergrad and late nights studying, weekends spent locked away in the library followed by four months of memorizing legal termi‐ nology, endless practice theory tests and now all that work had culminated in a three-number score. A score that would determine my future. Three numbers. “Oh my God, Gabby! Just tell me!” Daphni squeals as she reaches for the phone, her eyes widening as she reads the results for herself. “Holy shit. You got a 178.” Daphni drops her phone on the table and jumps up and down before throwing herself onto my lap and giving me a big kiss on the cheek. “You got a 178! You got a 178!” I paste a smile on my face, but inside I feel nothing. For years, I had been dreaming of this moment. And now that it was here? Nothing. I feel empty and hollow, and I know it’s because the one person who I wanted to tell and celebrate with is not with me. And it’s no one’s fault but my own. So when I read the score, instead of feeling victorious, I feel like I just got sucker punched in the gut. Daphni looks at me, her bright smile fading as she GUARDING HER HEART 261 watches me. “Gabby. You got a freaking 178! Why aren’t you celebrating? Screaming? Sacrificing the small child you must have promised to have gotten a freaking 178!?” I shrug my shoulders and Daphni slides off my lap and takes the empty chair next to me. “Aren’t you happy?” she asks, her voice soft. “I think I am?” I answer truthfully. “I mean, I’ve been waiting for this day forever. But now it’s here and I just feel so…empty inside.” “Will you let me say it?” Daphni asks after a long pause. But I don’t need her to say it, I already know. I sigh as I feel my lips start to tremble. “What did I do, Daphni?” “Baby girl, you did what you learned from mom and dad. And from Lawrence and psycho Fiona and…me and any number of the idiots I’ve dated.” She shrugs her shoulder. “You decided to cut your losses and run instead of letting yourself fall.” “God, Daphni,” I moan. “Maybe we’re just cursed.” “Gabby, we’re not cursed. We’re just idiots.” She looks down at my score on her phone again and gives me a sad smile. “Well, at least when it comes to love.” “I think I love him,” I whisper before letting a single tear escape and fall down my cheek. Daphni wipes it away with her pink fingernail. “I know you do. It’s not too late to tell him that.” I shrug my shoulders helplessly. “He’ll never want to talk to me again.” Dropping my head into my hands, I let out another frustrated groan. “I said some pretty terrible things.” I feel Daphni cover my hand with hers. “Gabby, if he were a good enough man for you—the sweetest, kindest person I know—to fall in love with, then I know he will be able to forgive you.” A hesitant, bashful smile rises to her lips as she 262 JADE WEBB adds, “Besides, I bet nothing you did even comes close to half the shit I pulled on the poor guy!” I choke out a laugh as I wipe the tears from my eyes. Locking her eyes on mine, Daphni’s face turns serious. “Gabby, I don’t want you to live a life wondering if you made the wrong choice. I don’t want you to live with that kind of regret,” she says, her voice soft and pained. I give her hand a comforting squeeze, knowing how painful it is for her to talk about her past and the time she lost the love of her life. Putting on a brave face, I nod. “Okay,” I say resolutely. Daphni quirks her brow, a smile returning on her face. “Okay?” “God, how do I even find him?” Daphni smiles, the excitement reappearing in her bright eyes. “That I can actually help with!” CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

pull into the parking lot and shift my car into park. I tug at my hair and take another look in the mirror, I though I unsurprisingly look exactly the same as I did two minutes ago. I’m a nervous wreck and I’m worried the sleepless nights and late-night Ben and Jerry’s binges have done me few favors. Still, I push myself out of the car and will my body toward the pale stone walkways. I’ve been here before, a few months ago, on the tour of the law school they had on campus. I hadn’t paid attention to the other schools, hadn’t realized they also had one of the most prominent engineering programs in the country. Because like everything in my life, I had blinders on, only seeing the world through my lens and how it impacted me. It’s why I had never known that Liam had been saving up to attend Stanford University and enroll in their engineering program so he could follow in the footsteps of his stepfather, who he admired. Because even though he had the GI Bill to cover his tuition, Liam wanted to make sure that he had enough saved to continue sending his nephew to private school. And when Daphni had heard his story at his inter‐ 264 JADE WEBB view, she had promised him that if he could manage to keep her alive through the tour, she would give his nephew a free ride to any college of his choice. She thinks she may have been drunk, but she remembered how determined and passionate Liam was and she told him that he reminded her of her sister, and that she wanted to help him out. She had never told me. She had figured Liam would in his own time. He never had, and after replaying every single conversation between us, I realized I’d never asked. I had been so absorbed by my own priorities—my relationship with Daphni, prepping for the LSATs, my own future—that I’d never bothered to learn about the man to whom I’d acci‐ dentally given my heart. It was a wake-up call I desperately needed. And it made me even more resolved to apologize to Liam and to try to make this right. Even if he had moved on and didn’t want to be with me, he deserved to hear how truly sorry I was. And thanks to some stealth stalking skills that I never fully real‐ ized Daphni possessed, we were able to call the university and get Liam’s schedule. Which is how I landed here today. I had spent the whole night concocting elaborate plans to confess my love to Liam. Daphni had enthusiastically endorsed a plan in which I storm into his classroom, holding up a boom box blaring "In Your Eyes" à la John Cusack, even though I had nixed that one immediately. Ultimately, after a sleepless night, I decided I would show up and wait to grab him after his last class of the day. I would finally apologize for every terrible thing I said, and hoped he would stick around long enough for me to confess that I loved him. It wasn’t the most imaginative plan, but it was the best I could come up with, especially after two months of barely sleeping and merely existing in a semi- comatose state. I’m putting myself out there: I'm tired of playing it safe. Playing it safe lost me Liam. GUARDING HER HEART 265

I head into the small coffee shop outside the building where his class is and order a large coffee. Settling down at a table by the window so I can watch for Liam, I open the book I brought to help distract me. I re-read the first line a few times in my head, willing myself to focus. After looking down at my watch and realizing I still have fifty-two minutes to go, I force myself to ignore everything around me and just read. Slowly, without even noticing, I let myself fall into the book, turning each page with rabid fascination as the coffee in my cup begins to cool. Only when I move to flip the page to start the next chapter do I finally get distracted when a dark shadow crosses over my table. I look up and feel the breath rush out of my lungs when I see Liam. His intense, grey eyes are watching me and under his gaze, I swear it feels like the rest of the world fades away. All I can see is Liam. And like my favorite books, weathered by time, their spines barely legible from all the deep wrinkles, I can read Liam. I can see the hurt etched into the lines of his face, the vulnerability he so openly wears in his charcoal eyes. And as much as I want to speak, to tell Liam how sorry I am, how utterly and hopelessly I have fallen in love with him, I feel myself freeze. Because I’m still terrified. Terrified that Liam may no longer love me and if I speak the words out loud, I will be damning myself to a life sentence of misery and heartache. As if sensing my momentary paralysis, Liam slowly pulls out the opposite chair and sits down. He gestures with his chin at my book lying on the table. “The Fountainhead,” he comments. “Good choice.” I nod in agreement. “I just started.” “Personally, I think Rand’s assessment that he is the ‘ideal man’ is bullshit. When he explodes—” I shake my head and cover my ears. “No spoilers, please!” 266 JADE WEBB

When Liam quirks his brow, I explain. “I’ve actually decided to take some advice for once and let life surprise me every once and awhile.” Liam’s brows shoot up in surprise and he tries to hold back a smile. “Well, whoever gave you that sage advice sounds like a pretty wise man.” “What makes you assume it’s a man?” I catch the hint of a spark reach Liam’s eyes and it ignites a flame of hope inside of me. I force myself to be brave, and before I can convince myself not to continue, I say, “Liam, I came here to tell you something." I inhale a deep, steadying breath before I go on. "I know I hurt you and I don't know if there is anything I can say that will ever be enough to fix that.” I will my eyes to look up and look at him. He leans forward in his chair, dropping his elbows onto the table. With him closer, I can smell that familiar scent that is unmis‐ takably Liam, the same smell I had woken up to now for two months as I would clutch his sweatshirt in my arms while I slept. It makes me dizzy and in that moment, forces me to fully acknowledge how much I had let myself fall for this man. I summon every ounce of courage to continue. “Liam, you have haunted me. You’ve captured some part of me that I thought I wasn’t even capable of possessing. Body and soul, you own me. And that literally terrifies me. But I also know it means I get to have you in my life and that makes it all worth it. The fear, the unknown, the possibility you may decide to wake up and leave me one day—it’s all worth it if I can spend just one more day with you." I feel my eyes brim with moisture as I force myself to look at him. His eyes are locked on me, watching me with intensity. I swallow, silencing the fear still lurking in the deep recesses of my brain. "Liam, I love you," I whisper. GUARDING HER HEART 267

As the words leave my lips, I feel my heart stop. When he doesn’t say anything, I feel a lone tear slowly slide down my cheek and before I can brush it away, I feel Liam’s thumb there, his gentle, tender touch wiping my tear away. He drags his chair next to me, and wraps his large hands over mine. “Love, you had my heart the minute I laid my tired eyes on you in your sister’s dressing room, that dress in your hands and that hilarious, scared look in your eyes. And when I learned how smart, how compassionate, and how funny you were, I knew you were the woman for me.” He lifts my hands and turns them over, exposing my palms. Placing a gentle kiss on each one, he holds my hands to his chest. “It’s you, Gabby. You’re it for me. I just needed you to get out of your own damn head and realize it for yourself.” I bite down on my lip, willing every cell in my body not to crumble, not to let the store of tears brimming in my eyes free—willing myself to throw a smile on my face and push away the emotion. But I’m tired of doing that. I don’t want to hide anymore. So I let the tears fall, and with my hands still on Liam’s chest, I grab the fabric of his shirt and pull him toward me, bringing my lips to his. And with his lips on mine, I realize that Liam has become something that I have always wanted: my home. And while there is still a part of me that is terrified of letting this man in, I know I want to risk it. I want to risk it all if it means that at the end of the day, I can call him mine. So while I may not exactly know what the future holds for us, I finally realize that I don’t care. I don’t need to know, because Liam’s lips on mine and his heart beating beneath my fingertips tell me all I need to know about our love story: it ends with happily ever after.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book would not have been able to be born without the critical support of my family.

To Mom and Papa, thank you for believing in me and helping to bankroll this dream of mine. When I’m a millionaire, I’ll promise to pay you back.

To Pedro, thank you for doing all the dishes and laundry for the past year. When I’m a millionaire, I’ll promise we’ll hire a maid.

And to Jean, who believed in me from day one. Your unflagging belief helped me realized that I could do it. This would never have been possible without you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jade Webb is a lover of romance novels that feature strong heroines who know that the loves that may come into their lives are always the icing, and never the cake.

Thanks to her own marriage, Jade has learned that the challenges of life can only help to make love stronger and she is grateful to her partner for embodying all the magic that love can offer.

When she is not writing or dreaming up new love stories, Jade is working in a retirement community outside of Boston that provides her with enough writing material for ten lifetimes.

Find Jade: www.jadewebb.com [email protected]

ALSO BY JADE WEBB

Protecting Her Pride: A Renegade Love Bodyguard Novel (Book 2)

Okay, sure, take a picture. I know you want to. And don’t worry, I know you can’t help but scream and cry when you see me. Trust me, I’m used to it. I’ve been in the public eye since I was fifteen years old. And now a decade later, I am one of the most recognizable faces on earth. And with that fame has come some highs and lows. Like the fact that I just shattered records for having one of the most successful nationwide arena tours and outsold all my previous albums. Awesome, right? And I know I should feel excited but unfortunately I’ve recently discovered that I have a stalker intent on kidnapping and chopping me into a thousand pieces. And I’m freaked out. So I call the only person who I know I can trust. The man who was like a father to me and who led my security team my entire career. Except he’s also the man I fired eight months ago when I was drunk and upset that he had punched my boyfriend (not that I could really blame him, my boyfriend is kind of an idiot). So I decide to go back and grovel for him to come back and work for me. Except he’s now retired. But he has another idea. His son: Roman. My first kiss. My first love. My first everything. The boy who I dumped two days before he was set to be deployed to Iraq. The boy who’s heart I broke. The boy who has cruelly haunted all my dreams ever since. Except he’s not a boy anymore. No, he is most definitely all man. And while he agrees to help me out, be my bodyguard until my creepy stalker is captured, he obviously still hates me. And I can’t blame him. I hate myself, too. But when my stalker starts to escalate, and I realize this threat is serious, Roman is the only one I can turn to. But how can I ever reveal the truth of why I had to break his heart seven years ago? I have to protect my pride.

For more information, including where to download, visit Jade Webb’s website at www.jadewebb.com ALSO BY JADE WEBB

Defending Her Dignity: A Renegade Love Bodyguard Novel (Book 3)

Men have never taken me seriously. At 5’5” on a good day, they can’t help but look straight through me, or worse: right at my rack. So I prove them wrong. Usually with a swift kick to their golden jewels that sends them straight to the floor. That’s what they get for messing with a captain from the Israeli Defense Forces When my cousin offers me a gig for a bodyguard position with one of the richest families in the country, I jump at the opportunity. But when I meet the client, Lawrence Monroe… it doesn’t go so well. So I tell him to go screw himself and as I stumble out of the room, I find Isabel, his adorable daughter getting her butt kicked in Wii boxing. I offer to teach her a few tricks and then suddenly Lawrence has a change of heart. That same day I move into his McMansion, into a bedroom the size of my entire apartment. Except there’s one problem: while I think I’m being hired as a bodyguard, he thinks he’s hiring a nanny. Yeah, annoying. But for the sake of his blue- eyed baby girl (and a sizable paycheck), I play along. And while at first, I just pegged Lawrence as an over-protective father, I am beginning to get the feeling that Isabel and I are being watched. All my instincts tell me to follow my gut, but how can I trust myself when every time I am within a 10 foot radius of Lawrence, my body betrays me and I feel inexplicably attracted to this devoted single dad. There is something between us, lingering just beneath the surface. But he is American royalty and I am only here until this threat is neutralized. After all, I can’t let myself fall for him. I need to focus on protecting his daughter and deciding what kind of life I want for myself. No, falling for a man like Lawrence Monroe would cost me too much. I have to defend my dignity.

For more information, including where to download, visit Jade Webb’s website at www.jadewebb.com