My skin tingled like he’d administered a pleasant electric jolt.
His watery eyes were pleading. “It’s fine, really,” he whispered.
It was so not fine. He didn’t deserve to hear such wretched words. But his beseeching gaze and gentle touch tempered my fury. Taking out my rage on the perpetrator was less important than supporting Mylo.
I shoved down my shift. Just barely.
“Get this asshole out of here,” I announced to whatever security was nearby. They rushed in to handle it. Geez, how many more times would I have to kick dickheads off the show?
Ignoring the commotion, I focused on Mylo.
“Let’s go somewhere less chaotic. Like your room,” I suggested.
“O-okay.”
I felt eyes burning into the back of my skull as everyone watched us leave together. Meh. Not my fault they couldn’t mind their own business.
Mylo was silent on the elevator. His shoulders squared with tension, and he stared at nothing. He trembled like a purse dog about to get a dreaded nail trim.
“Hey,” I said. “Chill.”
Mylo squeaked. Like, actually squeaked. Damn, that was cute.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his arms. “I’m not used to... this.”
“What? Being in an elevator?”
“No, um...” He bit his lip. “Being stood up for.”
That made no sense. Whywouldn’tpeople go to bat for Mylo? He was sweet and shy. It was like the perfect formula for ‘please protect me’.
“Why?” I demanded.
Mylo swallowed nervously. “I don’t know?”
“Why are you so freaked out?” I asked. “Seriously, I’m not gonna hurt you, so calm down.”
His gaze softened as he murmured, “I know you won’t hurt me.”
The way he said it made my stomach tingle. Weird.
The elevator halted and spat us out. Mylo was in a hurry to get to the room. I followed him closely. Normally, I enjoyed exploring and looking around, but Mylo kept drawing my attention. If we were in a video game, he’d be the main story objective and everything else mere side quests.
When Mylo finally shut the door to his room, his shoulders slumped and he let out a huge sigh. He seemed relieved to be alone.
Well, except for me.
Mylo put his back against the door as he caught his breath. The hotel doors locked automatically, but Mylo seemed not to trust it. It was like he was using his body as a shield against intruders.
“Just so you know, nobody can come in,” I said, trying to reassure him. “Well, actually, that’s a lie. I guess the cleaning crew can...”
Mylo’s face suddenly twisted up. Then he started to cry.
Shit.
“You don’t want them? That’s cool. I can tell them not to come in,” I said quickly.
Mylo shook his head. His hands covered most of his face so I couldn’t see his expression. “No, it’s not that...”
