The sight at the bottom of the stairs made me grin. All four Alphas lined up and waiting for me. The minute I stepped into view, I felt the way their attention went taut. The rush of arousal and overwhelming love.
Esme passed them. “I’ll wait for you in the hall.”
“Looking good, Esme,” Tyler called after her, but his eyes never left me.
Jack, still shirtless, wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged me against his chest. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I fought the sigh and lost. “I hate this dress.”
“Then wear something else.”
I made a face. I’m trying to play along. For now. “My plan for the new badass Eva is still in the works, but it won’t matter if I piss off the studio.”
“Fair enough. But you’re still beautiful.” Jack kissed my nose, then my lips lightly as not to ruin my lipstick.
Dylan spun me under his arm and hugged me. Kissed me on the cheek.
I started laughing when Tyler stole me away. “I’ll be back in a few hours. You don’t have to say goodbye to me like I’m going off to war.”
Tyler ignored me and kissed me anyway.
“It is a war,” Liam said as he lowered his forehead to mine. “The press, your fans, everything.”
“Can’t exactly argue with that.” I wiggled out of his grasp and winked at them. “Be back soon.”
Esme leaned against the wall in the hall, scrolling on her phone, while Neil waited for me.
“Ready.”
Looking over at my bodyguard, Esme cleared her throat. “How’s it looking tonight, Neil?”
“About average. I’m expecting it to be much tighter at the venue. When we get there, straight from the car to the door, no questions.”
“Yeah, Jasmine said as much,” I said. “No questions from reporters outside. You too, Esme. We’re controlling the story as much as we can for the release next month.”
Not that Esme would ever voluntarily speak to the press. She’d rather dive into a bathtub full of worms than speak to a member of the paparazzi.
And they were already here, waiting for me. We’d given them the tip, wanting good photos. All the cameras already flashed. I looked over at Esme and looped my arm through hers. “Smile on?”
I watched as she braced herself and straightened her shoulders. “Smile on.”
Okay, maybe the studio tipped off too many paps. It was like stepping into a literal storm of light getting out of the car. Security had them corralled behind metal barriers, but they were loud tonight.
As soon as they saw us, they started asking their questions, and every single one directed at Esme made me seered.
Esme, who’s the latest victim? Which pack now has broken hearts? Are you in the closet? Do you need a female pack? Did the death of your father break you? Are you in therapy? Who helps with your heats? Do you share with Eva?
I looped my arms through hers again and whispered, “Fucking assholes.”
Esme sighed. “Apparently everyone’s thinking the same thing, so I’m not sure they’re out of line.”
Bullshit. No one deserved to have questions like that lobbed at them. Especially Esme. The last two years had been brutal for her, and this wasn’t helping. “They’re so fucking far out of line I’m going to have my lawyers rip them a new asshole. I get they have to ask about the relationship stuff, and it sucks. But they don’t get to ask about Dad or if you’re in fucking therapy.”
She pulled me into a hug that we both realized we needed. Grief was strange that way. You could be fine one second and feel like you were drowning the next. And we missed our father.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “It just pisses me off.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. But let’s go do this party thing so we can get the hell out of here.”
