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Luna side-eyes Xander, seeing how he’s faring.
He’s sweating profusely. I hang my arm casually over his shoulders. “You’re alright, man,” I tell him calmly while his sister takes a selfie with a fan.
“I’m so sorry about what happened to you and your mom,” the girl says shyly.
It twists my stomach, but thankfully she’s not drawing too much attention. Luna responds quietly to her, then they hug.
More people are eyeballing Luna. She’s okay. I repeat that over and over. She’s okay.
Quinn has pushed closer to her. I group him in with the rookies, but times like these, I can tell he’s not one. He’s been a bodyguard for over three years.
Under his breath, Xander says, “All the backup security is in Philly with my brother, right?” Because of the baby.
“Yeah, but we don’t need backup,” I say easily. “Don’t think of the worst. That’s my job.”
If just a couple people recognize Xander, it would create hysteria. They’re not gonna be sheepishly asking for selfies like they are with Luna.
They’ll be crying and clawing at his clothes.
Still, I’m more worried about Luna since her threat level is ten times higher. But paparazzi aren’t allowed in the hotel, and they’d be the ones to harass her the most. Not fans.
Luna puts some distance between her and Xander to draw the spotlight away, and he stays at this vendor booth with me. As I pretend to be Xander’s BFF, I check out a lime-green sweater that says FROSTIE in embroidered neon pink. It’s sick.
“Cool shirt,” the vendor tells Xander.
“Oh…thanks.” Xander glances down at the long-sleeved Bass tee. It says: Control. Your. Emotion. Control. Your. Evolution.
“I’ll take this,” I tell the vendor. “Actually, I’ll take two.” Gotta match with my space babe. Not wasting time overthinking this shit, I just do it.
While the vendor rings me up, Xander observes the congested throng of Strider fans at the double doors. “Weird…” he mutters.
“How so?” I follow his eyes, checking for anything suspicious in the masses.
“Weird being on this side of things.” He breathes out some tension in his voice.
I get it now. He’s used to being the Reece Decker. The object of everyone’s obsession. He’s rarely the one standing in the crowd.
After I purchase the sweaters, we walk a couple steps to the water fountain and wait for Luna to check-out at another table. Still in the vendor hall, but it’s clearing out as everyone leaves to see the actor.
“You haven’t talked to her that much since we’ve been here,” Xander tells me.
I pull a sweater from the bag. “‘Cause I’m working first and foremost.”
He wafts his sweaty shirt. “I want this to be worth it for you two.”
“It’s worth it already.” I drop the bag to my feet, then shed my shirt and pull the new Frostie sweater over my head. “I get to see her geek out over Strider—”
“You hate Strider.”
“Hate is a strong word, Elf. My allegiances just lie elsewhere.” I toss my old T-shirt in the bag. “I’d take seeing her geek out over anything. Seeing her at all tops the charts.”
Xander bobs his head like he gets it. “Yeah, fine, okay. But you’re so concerned about me that you’re not paying attention to her. That sucks, man.”
“It’s my job,” I remind him again. “I like this job. Love it, actually. And just so you know, you don’t have to play matchmaker. Luna and I are already together. We’re matched. It’s done.” Breath is knotted in my throat as I say it.
“But like…how serious is it?” Xander questions. “Because she’s known you for three weeks, and I’ve overheard bodyguards saying you’ll last like two months tops.”
I try not to grimace. “Who?”
“Epsilon guys.”
Shoulda known. “Have you asked Luna what she thought of me?”
“It changes all the time,” Xander says. “Some days, obsessed. Some days, confused. One day, afraid.”
Her birthday. I blow out a long breath. “Yeah, alright.” But even with some odds against me, I pump myself up. “You don’t have to worry so much, man. I’m a wooer. I woo. I’ve got this covered.” I shake the plastic bag.
Luna departs from the vendor table. She must’ve bought a sweatshirt because she’s pulling it over her head as she approaches us.
My muscles flex in tensed bands. It’s a STRIDER STAN embroidered sweatshirt.
Fuck.
My grip tightens on the bag, trying not to feel like a dummy. She wouldn’t like a Frostie sweater. She doesn’t even like Callie that much anymore. Why’d I forget that?
“Where to next?” Luna asks us, Frog and Quinn dutifully flanked on either side of her.
Xander is eyeing me, waiting for me to gift the sweater to his sister. He knows I bought it for her. Who else would I have given it to? Farrow? Oscar? Yeah, right.
“Better make our way to Hall B,” I tell Luna. “It’s a long walk.”
She pops the map up on her phone. “Oh shit,” she mutters, her brows bunching as she realizes the location. “We need to go now to make it.” She skips out first, Frog leading and Quinn in the rear.
