“Not really.” The awful feeling of being chased won’t go away. “I think maybe I’m worried about the interview. I don’t want to rehash all the stuff that happened to me. If they ask for details—”
“Hey,” he says in a soothing voice, “Miranda said she gave them clear guidelines on what they could ask and what was off-limits. If they step out of line, I’ll be right there to yank ‘em into place. They keep it up, we’ll walk out. End of story.”
I wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”
He kisses the top of my head. “You’re totally safe, Shelby. I promise. Get some sleep.”
I’m already drifting. At least this time, a sense of calm follows. Who knows how long it will last.
Rooster
Haven’t made it to the bathroom to brush my teeth yet, but Jiggy’s already in my face. I blink my bleary eyes. “What?”
“She okay?” Jigsaw asks.
I glance over my shoulder. “She’s still sleeping.”
He’s waiting for me when I come out of the bathroom. “You’re like a really annoying jack-in-the-box this morning,” I grumble.
One corner of his mouth turns down ever-so-slightly. A sure sign I touched a nerve.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“She scared the shit out of me last night.”
Even though I can guess the reasons why Shelby screaming in her sleep got under his skin, if I coddle him, he’ll just get pissy with me. “Well, I guess you should’ve chosen to sleep at the hotel or outside with the others, then.” I point to his shirtless torso. “She might ask you about your back if you keep parading around like that.”
A sly smile replaces his grim expression. He slides his hands over his abs and pats his stomach. “Jealous? Worried she’ll get an eyeful of all this perfection?”
“No. Since your annoying personality is attached, I don’t have anything to worry about.” I point the coffee pot in his direction. “Did you hear what I said?”
He shrugs and glances over his shoulder. “Tell her. I don’t care.”
That’s a first. “Not my story,” I mutter.
He retreats to the back of the RV and returns with a shirt. “Happy now?” he asks, slipping it on.
“Just trying to look out for you, bro.” You know, like I’ve been doing since we were kids.
I glance at the clock. “Shit. She needs to be there in like an hour. Finish this for me?”
“Sure.” He snatches the bag of coffee and the scoop out of my hand. “Go have glorious morning snugglefucks with your hot, famous girlfriend. I’ll stay out here and play houseboy.”
“Jesus Christ,” I grumble, walking away and yawning. “You’re too old to be so passive-aggressive.”
I’m pretty sure he flips me off but don’t bother turning around to confirm. Instead, I stop by the side of the bed and stare at Shelby for a few seconds. Hate like hell to wake her after she worked so hard last night. First, fighting her fears and getting back on stage, and then signing autographs and talking to fans until her voice went hoarse and I had to shut things down. Then her nightmare last night. She needs her rest. But if she blows this interview, it’ll fuck up a lot of shit she’s worked hard for.
“Shelby.” I sit on the edge of the bed and gently run my hand over her back. “Baby, it’s time to get up.”
“Hmmm?” She burrows under her pillow.
“Come on.” I glance at Jigsaw who finally has the coffee brewing. “You’ve got the interview.”
“Shoot,” she murmurs and flips onto her back, slowly stretching her arms over her head. “Ouch. I hurt everywhere.”
I check the time again. “You have a few minutes for some yoga. I’ll kick Jiggy outside.”
“Hey!” Jigsaw yells.
She laughs softly and sits up, kissing my cheek. Her gaze slides to the clock “Crap. I don’t have time for yoga. I barely have time for makeup.”
“You don’t need makeup. They said they were bringing someone, remember?”
“Yeah, I don’t trust them.” She reaches for an elastic and pulls her hair into a messy half-knot, half-ponytail. “What if they take one of those ‘celebrities who look like ghouls without their makeup’ gotcha photos?”
“Then I’ll hunt them down and beat them senseless.”
“Amen!” Jigsaw shouts.
Shelby chuckles and tosses back the covers to scoot by me. Tucking her elbows tight to her sides, she covers her face and runs by Jiggy. “Don’t look, don’t look!” she yells, slamming the bathroom door behind her.
I sigh and join him in the kitchen. “I didn’t really consider how close quarters this would be. For her, I mean.”
“You’re used to me in your face every waking hour.” He grins and pops half a muffin in his mouth.
“You have no sense of decency or shame.”
“True story.”
“Or boundaries,” I add.
“One hundred percent,” he agrees.
“Dick.”
He shrugs and finishes the other half of the muffin. “You want me to go outside?”
“Gee, would ya?”