Pop Star (Famous, #1)

by Eden Finley

“Call me Brix. I’ll be with you six days a week.” He nods to the pretty guy. “He’ll be with you on Sundays.” “Brix? As in built like a brick shithouse?” Fitting. The other guy scoffs. “Nah, as in dumb as bricks.”

“Oh, you poor, sex-deprived man. If you think that’s flirting, I feel so, so, so, so sorry for you. Want me to give you a few pointers?” “Fuck you.” “That’s a bit direct, but I guess it could be considered flirting.”

I’m out of my seat with my gun drawn in a millisecond. “Harley?” a sweet voice calls out. Harley appears at my back. “Calm down, Rambo. It’s Evah.” The fiancée. Miss Evah no last name. Like Cher. Or Madonna.

“This is Brix. As in dumb as bricks.” Thanks, Iris, you fucker. I take her hand. “As in Brixton.”

“Goodnight, Rambo.” “Night, Pop Star.”

He pauses as if stuck in a memory. “Then I got offered a job at Mike Bravo, so I didn’t re-up. But my point is, after six years in the army and another four working for Trav, my whole life has centered around that. My pop culture references are all from when I was a teenager.” I can’t hold back the jab. “And the Beatles were from when you were a teenager?” Brix laughs. “Fuck off.”

“You read?” “Yes. Muscle man read good.”

Brix is hot as fuck, and the last thing I need is to think about him as something more than my hot bodyguard. Who’s proving to be actually kind of nice. No. Just hot. Hot, dumb bodyguard.

I don’t like Brix. I can’t have a crush on my bodyguard for a million reasons. One, he’s straight. Two, he’s straight. Oh, and three, he’s straight.

“You know what rhymes with cutie? Booty. You should put some booty in there.”

Against my better judgment, my stubborn side won’t let it go. That’s how my bodyguard practically waterboards me for an hour. It’s still the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

“How about we teach you how to use a gun first. The explosives can be like positive reinforcement. Do well with a gun, you get to play with C4.” “You’d make the bestest parent ever.”

“Lesson one. Never touch another man’s gun without asking first.” “Aren’t these technically your boss’s guns?” “Lesson two. Don’t be a smartass to the person teaching you how to use a deadly weapon.”

When they’re in place and his glasses are on, I hesitantly hand him the gun, and I’m reluctant to let it go. Until he smiles. “I won’t shoot you. I promise.” Geez, with his angelic features, he could’ve told me he will shoot me, and I’d still hand over the gun.

Why is he doing this? What does he want? My heart squeezes. He’s saying all the words I’ve wanted to hear from someone nearly my entire life. I want to believe he truly understands. He gets it. Gets me.

There’s a pause. A shift. For a moment, I could swear the world stops turning. The warmth coming off him is insane. My entire body screams to be touched, to be even closer. We press against each other. I risk glancing up into his eyes. They’re dark and hypnotizing. “You’re valid, Harley.” Something snaps. One minute I’m staring at him, locked in another Brix trance, and then the next, my mouth is on his. It’s not soft. It’s not caring. It’s so scorching hot it’s bound to leave long-lasting third-degree burns on my soul.

“Harley—” “No.” He pulls me in closer, our bodies molding like soft clay around one another. “Don’t go and fuck this up with logic and rational thought, because after that kiss, I don’t know if they even exist in this universe anymore.” That sounds about right.

“That’s lemon? Tastes like piss.” “Do I want to know how you know what piss tastes like? I’m not really into kink shaming, but I do have my limits.”

“Thank you. For the piss water.” He takes another sip and winces. “Okay, can I double-check you didn’t piss in here?”

I take a gulp and swallow it down, forcing my face to remain impassive. “There. Now stop being a baby and drink your piss water.”

“But I want to sing ‘I Will Always Love You’ all Whitney Houston like while you race through the streets of New York with me in your arms bridal-style. You could be my Kevin Costner and take a bullet for me.” “Your fantasies about me are fucked-up.”

“Kiss me.” “I have cum breath.” “It’s my cum, so I don’t care.” “Aww, that’s sweet.” “Shut up and kiss me already.”

Brix jumps off me, and that’s when I realize my dick is still hanging out of my unzipped pants. “Shit,” I hiss and quickly tuck myself away. “Ow, my eyes!” Jamie cries dramatically. “My innocent, innocent eyes.”

“I promise to always try to bring you a dose of normal.” It’s sad that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever offered me.

These are the type of guns I’m comfortable with you using. Choose wisely and come find me when you wake up. I draw a winky face at the bottom.

“Oh. I thought—” “Have you always known?” I ask Dad. D-U-H I burst out laughing. Harley looks at me expectantly. “He said Duh.” I turn to Dad. “Since when?” B-A-S-I-C “Since I was eighteen?”

“Dad, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” W-A-N-T T-O “Are you okay with it?” I hold my breath. “I tried to tell you, but I didn’t know how, and you’ve always been so … military, I thought—” Y-O-U H-A-P-P-Y? “Very happy.” L-O-V-E Y-O-U “I love you too.”