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“Rex!” I yell, but Gargoyle man steps toward us, blocking us from moving forward. “Rex!”
How does that make me any different than any other fan trying to get his attention?
Shit.
My sister tries to call after him as well, but Muscle Man corrals us together and blocks my view of the famous rock star. She jumps, I try to peek around, but he’s not budging.
Double shit!
Wait ….I look over at my sister who is going nuts against the bodyguard, then trail my gaze back to the meathead keeping us steady when it hits me.
Something he called his brother ….
“Fart something …” I think out loud and turn away from our bouncer and my sister’s antics.
“What?” She asks me, unaware of my thoughts taking me down memory lane and straight to the moment Rex fed me pizza on our first official date.
I taste the Italian on the tip of my desperate tongue as vividly as I see Rex’s curls tenting around us from on top, blocking out the rest of the planet.
I spin back to the bouncer, a few steps away, and watch the backs of the large men getting further away from us, taking Rex to the back of the building away from the chaos.
Away from me.
I breathe deep, prepare myself to make my voice carry, open my chest, and fucking yell with hands cupped around my mouth.
23
REX
“Hey, fart knuckle!!”
I stop dead in my tracks, causing a domino of other gents to ram into me from behind and the group in front of me to pull away.
“No fucking way.” I turn to look but all I see are a wall of bodyguards clad in black shit and headsets, prepared to do the jobs that the band’s manager hired them for.
“Rex, you need to keep it moving.” Ian’s hands fall heavy and demanding on my shoulders, trying to turn me back to fall in line with the group.
I can’t do that.
“It’s her, Ian.” I shrug off his hands, knowing he knows exactly who I’m talking about, but this prick plays dumb.
“Her?” His brow quirks up in question. “Doesn’t matter, Rex. Keep moving.” He pushes again, harder this time and I stumble into another body like a damn rag doll.
This is the kinda shit I’m fucking sick of.
“No, Ian.” I push back, jerking my arm free of the grasp another guard tries to have on me. “I can’t do that.” More hands land on me, trying to direct me. They push and pull, nearly lifting the soles of my boots from the pavement.
But the more they insist, the more I fight back.
“You’re gonna make me do this, aren’t you?” Ian shakes his head with a heady breath of constant frustration, his hand going to the mic button I know he has hidden in his left breast pocket. “Bring the girls.”
Relief washes over me, contentment loosens my joints and has me spinning back to the group and falling in line with the exit plan like nothing ever happened.
There’s a car waiting on the other side of the upcoming fence, hidden away from the public to keep my leaving private.
We left Mac and Fin back inside to shut the place down. I was supposed to be the distraction so they could exit, but I guess I wasn’t in on the plan change since there’s no massive hoard descending on us as we move.
I wouldn’t change a fucking thing, though.
