I used to only do action and suspense movies, but after being votedSexiest Man of the Yeartwice in a row and doing a few modeling gigs and commercials, more romance roles had been flying my way.
My agent said it was a wise career move.
“Where there are screaming girls, there’s more fame and money,”she had told me.“It’ll be great for you to branch out. Women eat up all that sappy, romance crap.”
Since then, I’d starred in several romantic comedies. And I was sure after the filming finished forLove and Coffee Beans, I’d do another. And another.
I didn’t necessarily hate romance. I guess it was just a reminder of what I was denying myself. I’d never find the kind of love my character found in the movies. Not that “movie love” was real in the first place, but still.
My phone rang.
“Yeah?” I mumbled, holding it between my ear and shoulder as I shoved crap into my bag. If I didn’t leave within the next ten minutes, I’d be late.
“Someone’s in a mood this morning,” Gideon said. He was my bodyguard and probably the only person in my life who wasn’t afraid to tell me off when I was being an asshole—which was often.
“That’s what happens when you choose sex over sleep,” I responded.
And drooling over a twenty-two year old freckled hottie all damn night.
“Well, whenever it pleases His Majesty, I have the car waiting for you.”
I grinned and hung up on him.
There were usually rules between bodyguards and the celebrities they protected. One of the big ones was: be friendly, but never familiar. Gideon and I had pretty much broken that rule. He was professional and a damn good bodyguard, but he was also my friend. A friend who cost me a ton of money. But it was money well spent.
When I made my way down to the car, he took my bag and placed it in the trunk before opening my door. Wearing designer sunglasses, an arrogant smirk, and a nice suit, Gideon was both stylish and deadly.
“I hate early mornings,” I whined.
“I know you do,” he answered, still with the smirk in place.
In dire need of coffee, I was about to tell him to stop at a coffee place on the way to the airport, when he handed me a latte.
“You’re a life saver.” I took a sip and settled into the backseat.
“I know.”
He drove me to the airport and walked at my side as I waited to board the plane. Anyone who even looked at me was met with a glare from him. The dude was ex-military, six foot six, muscled, and intimidating as hell.
Yep. Worth every penny.
Having stayed awake most of the night, I caught a little shut eye on the plane before being woken by the flight attendant.
She was obviously a fan by the way her hands shook as she gently woke me and how big her eyes got when I thanked her. Her cheeks darkened with a blush before she walked away, stumbling as she did.
I didn’t see why people treated me like a god. Fame gave me some bullshit superpower or something.
Gideon walked with me as I grabbed my luggage and then called for a car.
It was a fifteen minute drive from the airport to the hotel. The driver tried to make conversation along the way, but my less than enthusiasticmhmsin response made it clear I was in no mood for chitchat. I was tired and ready to be done with this movie. After the filming, I planned to take a nice vacation.
Gideon looked irritated as he sat in the passenger’s seat. God knows he needed a vacation, too.
“Fucking perfect,” I grumbled as we pulled up to the hotel and I saw the crowd of people.
I loved my fans. Without them, I wouldn’t have gotten so far in my career and would probably be some C-list actor that could only star in low-budget slasher flicks. However, it got crazy sometimes with the fangirls—and fanboys. It was the main reason I’d had to hire Gideon nearly three years ago.
Gideon looked back at me, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “You ready, Price?”