LENNOX The street was alive with activity as the bright street lamps illuminated the scene. Rapid camera flashes filled the air, casting intermittent bursts of light on the idling black Escalade. Ignoring the continuous chatter in my right ear from the security team, I confidently maneuvered through the chaotic swarm of paparazzi. Around five men swarmed the car, desperately trying to capture a glimpse of whoever was inside. They pressed their lenses against the tinted windows, while others paced anxiously on the sidewalk, hastily relaying information to their colleagues. "Hurry up and get here!" "We think it's one of the Johnson kids, hopefully Blake." Two men were huddled near the rear door, but I powered forward. With each stride, I exuded an air of menace that sent them stumbling backward. Taking hold of the Escalade's handle, I mimicked opening the car door to shoo away the overly eager fools. Suddenly, a man rushed towards me and collided with my solid back. I shot him a br

LENNOX Seth absentmindedly scratches his unshaven jaw, sweat glistening on his golden-brown skin. A small scar lies beneath his eye, and his slightly crooked nose bears the evidence of a past boxing injury. Davin shares similar marks. Security personnel often joke that no matter how many punches they've taken in their professional boxing careers, they will always be good-looking. "I was deliberately censoring myself," Seth clarifies. "I didn't want to mention anything inappropriate about a teenage girl, you know?" "Clit," Perry interjects. "Jelly bean," Davin adds with a smirk. "Magic button," Perry chimes in again. Seth shakes his head, as if thinking we're all messed up. I raise an eyebrow at him. "You're the one who jumped to 'clitoris piercing' when I said 'unmentionable.' And weren't you a teenager yourself just a year ago?" Davin and Perry burst into laughter, while Seth gives me a half-hearted glare. He still has a lot to learn about intimidation—he's new to the security

LENNOX The saltshaker slips from my fingers, falling to its side. Tony glanced at me as I straightened the salt shaker on the table. It was a simple gesture, but it triggered a surge of jealousy within me. I found it absurd that I could feel this way about an anonymous celebrity wearing a beanie at a bar. My ex-boyfriends would have found it hilarious that I cared so much about a twenty-two-year-old famous person. I unwrapped a piece of gum and just as I peeled off the foil, Ashton, sitting across from me, asked an unexpected question, "What's your favorite color?" A smile formed at the corners of my mouth. "My favorite color?" I repeated, as if he had asked me something trivial. Well, it was a kindergarten-level question, but in that moment, I couldn't help but think that Ashton's interest had shifted from that other guy to me. Ashton crossed his arms and challenged me, "What kind of high school names someone valedictorian when they can't even answer their favorite color?" Leani

ASHTON I’ve said all those words before: be the bigger person. Walk away. You’re feeding into their bullshit. Violence solves nothing. You’re the CEO of a nonprofit. Stop. Stop. Breathe. Leave. I let about fifteen feet divide me and the bartender. Backing up. Backing away, all the while he’s talking shit. “What about your sister,” he laughs mockingly. “Blanca Johnson—another wet slut. Bet she puts out twice as much as your mom. Is she a little sex addict too?” I taste acid on my tongue, but words burn the back of my throat. Dying inside of me. And Lennox can’t provoke the bartender. If these insults eat at him, he can’t show me either. I’m in a thundering boat of one. Trying to steer myself towards the door. I almost get there. And then he says, “I hope she locks her doors at night.” I go rigid. Motionless and still faced towards him. “What’d you say?” He laughs. “I hope she keeps her doors locked. You know how many men would break through just to taste her—” I lose it. Te

ASHTON Neither of us uttered a word as we drove home, the silence hanging heavy between us. Each passing second only added to the weight, making time feel slow and burdensome. Lennox reached out to adjust the air vents, his tattooed fingers moving languidly, almost sensually, as he opened one. A rush of cold air gushed out, but it did little to alleviate the heat that seemed to radiate from my skin.I found myself licking my lips repeatedly, a nervous habit that seemed futile. My arousal grew, pulsating with an intense desire to be satisfied, to be touched and to touch in return. I forced my gaze onto the highway, gripping the leather steering wheel tightly, my hands clenching with determination. Lennox's heated gaze shifted back and forth between the road, where paparazzi trailed my Audi, and me. It was a constant oscillation: road, then me; road, then me.I was used to being watched and observed, constantly under the scrutiny of strangers, cameramen, and people in general. But neve