the road. “I can’t tell if you’re being passive-aggressive or mocking.”
Neither can I, if I’m being honest.
I’m not a dumbass. Hooking up with my bodyguard was stupid. Last night was a mistake, and we shouldn’t have done it. I knew the minute he shut down that I had to make a clean break.
I’ve done the forbidden-relationship thing before. It’s not as romantic as people think. Sneaking out of hotel rooms so my handlers and management team didn’t find out I was fucking a member of the opening act on tour was my life for a lot longer than it should have been.
I don’t want to start that again.
So, yeah, pretending it didn’t happen is what’s best. Even if it’s not what I want.
It’s better to end it now before I catch those dreaded feelings.
I have no desire to get my heart broken again anytime soon. The first time took long enough to get over.
Maybe I can convince my brain that last night was a wicked fantasy instead of a memory, and I can use it for when I’m alone with my hand. Because something that explosive can’t be forgotten. It would be, like, blasphemous to the gods of gay sex.
“Harley?”
I turn my head toward him. “Huh?”
“Are you really okay with what happened, or do you want me to call Trav and tell him I can’t work for you anymore?”
I frown. “You want to quit? Over a mishap?”
“Tackling you on my first day was a mishap. This … this was crossing basic lines that no employer and employee should ever cross.”
“Didn’t we already agree Gideon is your employer, not me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. Which is why you shouldn’t quit. Like you said, you need this job. I won’t mess that up for you.”
“Thank you.”
I pretend to write something down. “Hey, what rhymes with fired?”
His gaze flicks my direction, and I grin.
“At least we can joke about it already,” he mumbles.
“I like joking with you. As sad as this may sound, you’re not just my bodyguard. I kind of feel like … we’re friends.”
“Well, you did blow me. I guess that makes us friends.”
“Oh, so that’s what I’ve been doing wrong all these years. No wonder I have no friends. Blowjobs equal friendship. Got it. You should be a life coach instead of a professional badass.”
Brix side-eyes me. “Why don’t you have any friends? I thought you Hollywood types all had huge entourages.”
“Oh, I have an entourage, but I pay them to be with me, so it feels weird to call them friends. It’s not like I see them outside of them working for me.”
“So why is it different with me?”
“Blowjob. Duh.”
Brix laughs. “No, seriously.”
I shrug. “Maybe it’s because I’m with you twenty-four hours a day. The only time you get to escape is on your day off. We’re friends by proximity.”
“You know how to make a guy feel special.”
I sigh. “I don’t think I’ve had any real friends since I became famous.”
Brix’s tone changes and becomes more guarded. “What about that Jay guy?”
“Maybe he counted at first. We were friends for a while. Although, that was only because I suck at flirting with guys because I know I’m not supposed to, so it comes out all, ‘Oh, hey, you like oranges? Shit, so do I!’ He didn’t realize I was hitting on him for about four months.”
“And then you fell in love? Is he the one who left you on tour?”
I don’t want to get into this with Brix, or anyone for that matter, but that doesn’t stop the words from coming out. “It’s kind of a messed-up story. Basically, our label didn’t want us together, so we were forced to break up. I had issues letting go, and he had issues saying no to me.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yep. We kept seeing each other even when we weren’t supposed to, which is why my publicist came up with the whole Evah lie. That was the last straw for him. I thought we could keep doing what we’d always done, but he wasn’t okay with that. Then he went and found, in his words, true love.”
“Ouch.”
“Eh. I’m not saying he didn’t have a right to move on. No one likes being shoved in a closet. But I guess … I don’t know. It seemed so easy and quick for him to find someone else. I have to believe our relationship wasn’t as meaningful as I thought it was.”
“Am I gonna have to bitch slap you upside the head for you to get it?