À chacun son histoire, Tome 4 : A Kind of Home

After months abroad I was home. And all I wanted was my bed.

The ride to the seventeenth floor didn’t take long, which was good for Brian’s sake. I should have known my studio-appointed bodyguard wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was at my heels with his hand on the door before the elevator had a chance to whisk me away. I didn’t waste my breath arguing. As he’d said, he was only doing his job. I studied his stone-faced countenance and wished I had the energy to mess with him. The guy was very ordinary. Brown hair, brown eyes. Though I suppose the same could be said for me. He had to be somewhere around my age too. But normal thirtytwo-year-olds didn’t have a stick up their asses 24-7. Or did they? I probably wasn’t the best judge regarding normal behavior anymore.

I fumbled for my key as I strode toward my corner unit.

« Let me help you, sir. » Brian deftly snatched the key from my hand and inserted it into the lock before I could protest. He immediately froze in place and furrowed his brow. « Someone is on the premises. I was told you had a houseguest, but— »

« A houseguest? » I felt my forehead crease in puzzlement. What the fuck was he talking about? God, I was tired. Job or not, I was done here. I leaned against the door with one hand outstretched. « Hand it over. You’ve officially crossed the line into pissing-off-Isaac territory. Give me— »

The door unexpectedly swung open from the inside. I fell sideways into my condo and almost landed on my ass before I righted myself.

« Welcome home, Ize! Long time, no see. »

I was immediately enveloped in a bearlike hug by a mountain of a man. I made a mewling noise of protest and pushed at his chest. When he finally released me, I punched my assailant in the stomach and then moved past him into my spacious great room.

« Sir, your name? » Brian asked in a threatening tone. He was poised to attack, seemingly unconcerned the other guy had him by at least four inches and twenty-five pounds.

« Adam McBride. Nice to meet ya. »

I listened with exasperation to their abbreviated greeting. This was not what I’d envisioned. At all. I wanted peace and quiet; a refuge from my insane life in a band. Instead I got an overzealous bodyguard and an unexpected houseguest.

« It’s fine, Brian. You can go, » I said, casting a dirty look at my old high school buddy. « He’s cool. Sort of. »

« If you’re sure. »

« Brian…. » I pointed meaningfully at the open door. When he paused to remind me he’d programmed his number into my cell, I didn’t bother to hide my eye roll. Or curb my sarcastic response. « Great. If I get horny, I’ll give you a call. »

« I’m straight, si— »

I slammed the door and locked it before pivoting to glare at Adam with my hands on my hips. « What the hell are you doing here? »

« Nice trip, honey? » he countered with a winning grin, brushing his dark bangs away from his eyes.

I flung my backpack across the rough-hewn hardwood floor. It skidded to a halt when it met the edge of the bright red rug anchoring the black leather sofa and barcelona chairs situated in front of an enormous flat-screen television. Adam chuckled softly as he followed me into the open kitchen.

« Am I going nuts, or did you stay for a week and forget to move out? You’re squatting, » I snarked.

« It’s called extended stay house-sitting, not squatting. » He flashed another smile, then gestured toward the door. « So you travel with a bodyguard now? »