Page 12 of Composed at Randy's
I have to convince him to stay with me until I can fix everything for him.
Hopefully, he won’t fight me on that. He said I could take care of him, after all. He won’t be fully cared for until I know he’s in a safe and stable situation, so that means I’m supposed to be in charge until then, right? I think we can all agree on that.
Wren continues to sleep all the way to my hotel, past security to my private elevator, and down the hallway to the door of my suite where I smile at the final set of security guards.
I know it sounds like overkill, but fans can be incredibly persistent and resourceful. I’ve woken up to too many strangers in my bed that I didn’t invite there. It wasn’t until Harvey installed the second set of guards that it stopped happening. Everyone in the band is on board with it—even Mel, who will fuck anything that moves.
“Hey, Brent. Hey, James.” I try to wave at the guards posted at the door, but I’m hampered by Wren, so I wiggle a few fingers at them. “Can you get the door?”
“They’re usually conscious when you guys bring ‘em in, but you do you, boss,” James says with a deadpan expression. I honestly can’t tell when he’s joking. Or if he even jokes.
All of Harvey’s security guards come off a bit lacking in the personality and morals department, but deep down, I know they’re decent people. When they throw people out for trying to sneak in, they always sayexcuse mefirst.
I snort and say, “Come on guys, who do you take me for?”
James doesn’t respond. Instead, he faces forward while Brent opens the door for me and Wren.
Just as Brent is closing the door behind us, he tells me, “We saw nothing.”
He’s probably joking.
Right?
Well, even if it wasn’t a joke and heiswilling to cover up a kidnapping for me, at least I’m not the kind of person to take him up on it.
Everyone says I’m a total sweetheart.
They also say other stuff, but I like to focus on the positive things in life.
Chapter 5
Wren
The next time I come to, I’m in an equally unfamiliar but much comfier place. I’m bundled up in soft, fluffy blankets and surrounded by half a dozen pillows. The whole bed smells amazing too.
Like, really amazing. It’s a lot like how I imagine Henry Cavill smells…
Oh shit, I’m about to pop wood over a bed, and we haven’t even been introduced.
I bolt upright and have to struggle, because wow these blankets are really wrapped around me tight. There also seems to be a stuffed cat or seven that I have to battle as I go.
As I work my way free, I hear, “Hey, buddy. It’s okay. You’re safe here.”
My sleep-fuzzy brain manages to inform me that I recognize the voice from last night. But even if I didn’t recognize him, I’d be instantly calmed just by how kind and reassuring Bael’s voice is.
Once I pop free of my cocoon, I can see Bael sitting on the floor next to the massive, king-sized bed I’m in. The curtains are closed, but it’s light outside, so I can see that I’m in a fancy-ass bedroom. It has two couches, what appears to be a walk-in closet, and through a half-opened door, I spot a palatial bathroom.
I lean over the bed and see a single pillow. “Were you sleeping on the floor?”
“I wasn’t going to crawl in with you. That would be a pretty scary thing for you to wake up to,” Bael says sheepishly.
“Yes… scary.” Horny would have been a better term. If I’d woken up in bed next to Bael, I probably would have humped him without realizing it.
I’m pretty hair-trigger in the mornings. Testosterone is a magical thing, but one of the side effects is that it makes me hornier than an entire flock of rabbits.
In fact, at the moment, the combo of Bael’s voice, the smell of his bed, and his gorgeous fucking face has me fighting not to wiggle to find more friction.
“Don't get me wrong,” I say. “I appreciate your gallantry, but you could have stuck me on one of your couches. I wouldn't have minded.”
