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I came to a complete stop, not able to see where I was going because of all the cameras blinding me.
"Olivia, over here!"
"Is that Walker Davis?"
"Give us a smile, Olivia!"
“Are you high, Olivia?”
"Did you have a panic attack?"
"Hey, Walker, how do you feel about dating someone with so much baggage?"
“Olivia, smile!”
I hadn't expected this.
Not at all. I’d gotten comfortable—forgotten what it was like to be stalked, and hounded by the leeches of the entertainment world.
I put up a hand to try and block out the flashing lights.
A familiar feeling of helplessness fell over me as my heart started to race.
Everything was chaos.
“Don’t let go,” Walker yelled to me, reminding me that for the first time…I wasn’t alone.
He wrapped his arm around me, holding me close as he walked us through the sea of photographers towards the waiting SUV.
I squeezed onto his arm, holding it like it was a lifeline.
“Olivia, are you pregnant?” one of them called and I stumbled, caught off guard by the question.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” Walker urged as the photographers rushed toward us, their cameras clicking and flashing with an almost deafening intensity.
Walker continued to position his body as a shield between me and the advancing horde.
“Back the fuck off,” he snarled as they continued to yell out questions.
Finally, we reached the car. Walker threw open the door and practically threw me inside as he slid in behind me. It was quieter inside, but the cameras continued to flash through the windows, capturing our every move, our every expression.
A cameraman battered on the window as the driver cursed and pulled away, trying to avoid running them over and causing another news story.
I sank back into my seat, my hands trembling in my lap as the adrenaline slowly began to ebb away, leaving behind a hollow sense of disbelief. That had been a…nightmare.
Except…
I stared down where my fingers were still intertwined with Walker’s, his presence beside me a comfort I’d never had before.
“Fuck, sweetheart. That was intense,” he muttered, and a giggle slipped from my lips. Because I wasn’t sure that “intense” was the right word for what had just happened.
Bedlam perhaps?
“Welcome to my world,” I told him, searching his face for a sign that he was about to run away screaming.
Instead, he brushed a kiss against my lips and then our connected hands.
“Happy to be here,” he told me.
