Page 26 of Caught Looking

“I don’t seem to be able to stop you.” At least Jeri was a force for good. Heaven help me if she wanted to destroy me.

“Seth isn’t Owen. In fact, he’s pretty much the opposite of Owen.”

I wasn’t comparing them…or was I?Oh shit.I kept falling back on Seth’s reputation as a reason to judge him and doubt him, despite my own instinct that Seth wasn’t like that anymore.

That feeling? The one that always followed the excited butterflies?

It was fear.

Fear that Seth would be like Owen.

* * *

“Shit.”The sidewalk in front of my house was lined with paparazzi. They rushed the truck as Seth eased into the driveway and parked.

“Persistent.” Seth’s expression was a mix of frustration and awe. “I’ll get them back on the sidewalk then come around for you.” He waited for my nod then was out the door. “Hey guys. Appreciate the attention, but this is private property and I’m going to need you to return to the public street.”

It took a minute for the crowd to trickle down my driveway, a few snapping pictures through the windshield and windows. Seth stood outside my door, his hand on the handle until he felt it was safe.

“This is nuts,” I whispered to Roscoe. How was it possible that our relationship was this exciting to people? Was it just because Seth was so famous? Or did it have to do with the unlikeliness he’d ever settle down? No, as I pictured the photos circulating around the internet at an unprecedented pace, I knew it was more than that.

The world saw us falling in love. And the one thing we all wanted, all craved, was that magic. To them it was a fairytale. The handsome, rich bachelor and the up-and-coming soccer star. His devotion, my awe. Whatever they interpreted from the few moments the public caught. To them it was a story to get swept up in.

The truth didn’t matter.

“You got your keys out?” Seth cracked the door.

“Yep.”

He swung it open and held out his hand. I stared at it for a second. This felt…big. Like taking his hand was the first step off a cliff. Seth’s gaze remained on the crowd, scanning it. He was so handsome in protection mode with his jaw ticking and brows furrowed. And yet he wore a giant blue onesie. It should be ridiculous, but it felt much more like the cameras were interrupting our fun night than one of those nightmares where you get caught in a costume when no one else is dressed up.

When I didn’t take his hand Seth looked over and cocked a brow. “Babe?”

I took his hand, feeling that electric zing the moment our hands collided. I stepped out onto his running board, then down to the ground. Bulbs flashed, cameras whirred, but all I focused on was the sudden thudding of my heart in my chest. Was this what life with Seth looked like? The frustrating combination of his solid, steady presence and the constant attention?

He opened the back door and Roscoe jumped down, barking and growling at the crowd. But Seth didn’t waste a second. There was a chirp as he locked the truck, then he led me around the hood, up the path to my door. He kept his hand in mine as he turned back, one last warning glare at the crowd, then followed me inside.

I threw the locks and sagged, unclipping the leash so Roscoe could go free. “I feel like an animal at the zoo.”

“That’s exactly what we are.” He moved to the windows, making sure every blind was down and curtain was closed. “They can’t come up here. Not legally anyway. But that won’t stop them.” He unzipped the onesie and began stripping it off. Underneath he wore dark blue Mantas warmups and a crisp white t-shirt that stretched at the sleeves around his large biceps.

I gulped. Then jumped when some of the more persistent paparazzi started yelling questions at the house.

Forget the zoo. We were fish in a bowl. No privacy. Naked and on display. It made me want to take a shower and wash them off.

“You can’t stay here.” Seth surveyed my small home, fists on his hips, a frown on his face.

“Why not?” My home was small but it was mine. We stood in the middle of the living room. It was open to my kitchen. To the left was a hallway with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. It was an older home so it didn’t have multiple bathrooms or a lot of extra space, but it served my purposes.

“You have no security. No cameras. You don’t even have a fence for Roscoe.”

“Shit.”

“And I’m not just worried about the paps. The fans will come next. And they don’t follow the rules. They’ll come right up to the house. Knock on your door, look in your windows. Fuck, they might even try to break in.”

I froze. “But why?” Roscoe ran circles around the house, nosing curtains back to glare outside, then moving to another window. The hair behind his neck stood at attention, the very definition of hackles raised. He wouldn’t have a moment’s peace while they were outside.

This wasn’t part of the plan. Seth and I were supposed to go on a couple of dates to keep Owen away from me. That was it. This media circus, Seth’s feelings, none of it was supposed to happen.

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