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I looked out the window as the trees from Big Bear faded behind us. L.A. was on the horizon and just beyond that was the beach house. I had argued that before I did anything else, I was going to visit Tristan.
Asher’s phone beeped. He looked at me. “I need to get this.”
I nodded. “It’s ok. I’m going to text Dante we’re on the way.” I had mixed emotions about having access to my phone again. It had been nice to have a break.
Asher answered quickly and launched into a tense conversation about a prototype that didn’t sound like it was working. It would take time, but eventually our lives would blend together again.
Only this time I realized it wasn’t going to be as easy.
Asher had been in every aspect of my life. He was next to me at every event. He was in the car wherever I drove. He slept in my bed wherever I stayed. And it was because I was the center of the relationship.
This new world we were creating wasn’t going to revolve around movie star Journey Tessier. This time I was the one who had to figure out how to navigate him—and Avajean.
I listened to him bark orders on the phone and I realized as much as I loved him, as much as I knew him—there was a side of him that was a stranger to me now. I had to take time to learn. He was a father.
Sixteen
Asher
I didn’t like the idea of Journey stopping at the hospital on the way home. It was too public. The security was too lax, and she was too recognizable. The fact that she had gone into hiding would only make it worse if someone spotted her.
There was a fevered frenzy about her that had grown since the attack. This was not anything I would approve as the CEO of Westbrook Securities or as a bodyguard for that matter.
But I was trying to be the kind of man who was less domineering and more like a partner.
I had my Westbrook Securities driver deposit us at one of the back entrances. Two agents met us at the service entrance, holstered and ready to shield Journey if needed.
I stepped out of the car first and scanned the perimeter. This part of the hospital was secluded. It was a common route for celebrities to use when they were discharged.
The agents nodded at me as they flanked the door.
I guided Journey inside.
“Is all this necessary?” she asked. “It feels a little overboard.”
I folded my sunglasses and tucked them inside my jacket. “If you want to go to public places, then yes,” I answered.
We walked through the corridors and to a side elevator.
Tristan had been moved from ICU and was in a regular patient room. I punched the button for the third floor. He condition had been upgraded. That was the good news.
Journey wrung her hands together.
“It’s going to be ok,” I tried to reassure her. “He’ll be happy to see you.”
She nodded. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
The elevator stopped, but I held the door closed for a brief second. “You and Tristan survived something horrific together. It’s normal that seeing him is going to bring that up. You don’t have to do this until you’re ready. No one is asking you to push yourself. It’s ok if you want to wait a little while longer.”
Her eyes flared. “I am. I’m asking myself. That man deserves a thank you. He deserves a car or a yacht. I don’t know, anything that a person deserves for saving someone’s life. I can put aside my own anxiety for twenty minutes to
tell him that.”
She stuck her chin forward and I knew her mind was made up. I’d seen that look too many times before to try to talk her out of it. If seeing her trainer brought darkness to her, I’d hold her. If the nightmares returned tonight, I’d fight them for her. She wasn’t in this alone.
I let the door go and we strolled into the hallway. Tristan’s room was closest to the nurses’ station.
I saw a flicker of recognition on some of the nurses’ faces as Journey walked past, but they were used to stars. They weren’t the ones I was worried about.
