I have no plans to have kids of my own, but I’ve never thought about having to deal with paparazzi while trying to protect a child.
“I’m having fun!” she yells.
“I know, bub, but there are cameras here.”
She huffs. “Again?” She sounds exasperated and beyond her age. “Tell them to go away.”
“You know that’s not how it works.”
Uh-oh. I know that face. Her bottom lip droops, and water fills her eyes. I don’t know if Kaylee’s the type to throw tantrums or just have a cry, but if the paparazzi get that on camera, TMZ will report on Ryder’s parenting skills within the hour.
She’s still in the ball pit, so I go to the edge and kneel down to her level. “Kaylee, you and your daddy have to go, but I gave him my phone number, and if you ever want to play with Chase again, get your daddy to call me, okay?”
“Can I play with Chase?” she asks Ryder.
Ryder stares down at me with a frown marring his breathtakingly beautiful face. His lips look like they’ve had fillers, and his jawline is a work of art. All the Eleven guys are hot—there’s no doubt about that—but there’s something about Ryder that’s alluring.
He’s probably thinking I’m trying to use him again, but I’m trying to help him here.
“We can set up a playdate for another day,” Ryder says warily. “Right now, we need to go before any more cameras turn up.”
“Okaaaay.” The poor little thing sounds so dejected.
Ryder helps her get out of the ball pit. “Now, how to get out of here without them getting a usable picture.” He lifts her into his arms.
“Well, it’s you they want, so leave Kaylee with me while you bring your car around.”
There he goes, staring at me with mistrust again.
Although, I get it. Leaving your daughter with someone you don’t know is stupid even for a few minutes.
“Or if you don’t trust me with Kaylee, then Chase and I can go get your car for you. Risk a stolen car instead of a child.”
“It’s not that I—”
“I get it. I do. I’m just hoping it’s stranger danger more than me being gay.”
He looks confused at what I’m saying, but he can’t stand there and deny there’s a stigma about guys in general in the childcare industry. Gay guys are ridiculed and kept under a microscope even worse. It’s all bullshit, but you never know when you’re going to meet someone who thinks that way.
The things my brother’s colleagues and friends have said to him about having me look after Chase is enough to make me avoid socializing with them. Chord stands up for me, but there’s no teaching stupid, and I’d rather not deal with them.
“It’s definitely the ‘I don’t trust anyone around Kaylee’ thing. I don’t … there’s not … I’m cool with the gay thing. Trust me.” He hands me his key fob. “It’s the Tesla in the middle row.” He rattles off the license plate, and Chase and I head for the parking lot.
The paparazzi are forced to stay outside by law, but they’re growing in number. And when we walk past them, they don’t even blink.
Oh, the joys of being invisible.
Kind of ironic when all I want to do is stand out in a crowd.
It’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Not that I don’t love my life. I just want more.
I put Chase in the back seat and pull Ryder’s car around as close to the entrance as I can get.
Ryder makes a break for it as soon as I pull to a stop. He’s got Kaylee in his arms, and she’s got her head buried in his shoulder so they can’t get photos of her face.
Ryder’s expert-fast at buckling her into her seat, and then he jumps into the passenger side while asking paparazzi to back up.
I take off before his seat belt is even on.
For a few blocks everyone in the car is silent.
I’m stunned speechless, Ryder looks pissed off, Chase is generally good at picking up tension in a room, and I can’t tell if Kaylee is still upset she had to leave or if the big, bad men shoving cameras in her face scared her.
“Shit,” Ryder hisses.
Kaylee gasps. “Daddy said a bad word.”
Damn, that’s adorable.
“Your car,” Ryder says to me.
“We caught the bus. I can pull up to a stop on line fourteen to get back home.”
“Where do you live?”
“Beverly Hills.”
When he looks at me surprised, I remind him, “Crashing in my brother’s pool house, remember?”
“Oh. Right.