She shrugs. “They always know where I am,” she says quietly. “I don’t know how.”
I sigh, looking out at the heaving crowd. Shit. I really should have brought one of the others as backup. We weren’t expecting this. It looks like there’s about fifty men out there, all jostling each other to get a better position. “We’re going to have to be fast,” I say. “Don’t stop to take pictures. Don’t answer questions. Stick close to me.”
She slips her phone back into her bag and squares her shoulders. “We’ll see.”
I frown. “Notwe’ll see.You sayyes, Matt,and do as I say.”
“Talking to the press is part of my job,” she says flatly. “I’ll give them a few shots.”
“No—”
Without warning, she tugs open the car door. A wall of sound hits us as the paps immediately start screaming. Camera flashes light up the inside of the car.
I swear, scrambling over Briar and half-falling onto the pavement. The photographers jabber around me, and I turn and block their view, offering Briar my hand and helping her out of the car.
“What the Hell do you think you’re playing at?” I hiss as she steps onto the pavement, fluffing up her hair.
She shrugs. “Just testing your reflexes.” She raises her voice. “You get one shot each,” she calls. “Make it count, boys.”
“Very funny,” I growl, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and ploughing us through the crowd.
The noise is incredible. Bodies crowd all around us, shoving, elbowing, grabbing. Flashes burst in our faces, half-blinding us. The men start screaming questions as we push through them.
“BRIAR! TELL US ABOUT YOUR NEW MOVIE!”
“HAVE YOU GAINED WEIGHT, BRIAR? BRIAR, ARE YOU PREGNANT?”
“IS IT TRUE YOU SLEPT WITH HARRY STYLES?”
Briar poses as she walks, pouting at the lenses and blowing kisses. Gritting my teeth, I tighten my grip on her shoulders and push her forwards. A bald guy in his twenties throws himself in our path.
“BRIAR!” He shouts, right in our faces. We both wince as spittle flecks our skin. “WHAT’S YOUR RESPONSE TO ELLIOT WHITE CALLING YOU A STUCK-UP COW?”
Briar pauses, right in the middle of the street. I try to shove her along, but she’s surprisinglystrong. She considers, biting her lip. “I suppose I’d tell him to shut his mouth, brush his teeth, and pay the taxes he’s been evading for the last five years,” she says thoughtfully.
“Stop,” I say in her ear, pushing her forward again. More people are joining the crowd now; passersby attracted by the commotion.I start getting worried. Briar suddenly seems very small and delicate, surrounded by this heaving group of men.
“Get the fuck back!” I call, warding them off. “Step away. You’ll crush her, for God’s sake!”
They ignore me. One guy lunges forwards, grabbing her arm. I reach for him, but Briar moves faster, shoving him away. He staggers back a few steps, staring at her.
“You can’t fucking push me!” He sputters.
“Grab me, I’ll grab you back,” Briar says, sounding bored.
“I’ll report you!”
“Whatever.” She flips him off. “Get a real job, loser.”
I grit my teeth. “Briar,” I growl in her ear. “Stop provoking them.”
She looks up at me innocently. “What? It was self-defence.”
Sighing, I manage tocrowd Briar across the pavement and up to the entrance of the building. Just as we’re about to step inside, one last pap, a dark haired-guy in a baseball cap, hops up onto the steps next to us, shoving his camera in Briar’s face.
“BRIAR! WHY DID YOU CHEAT ON THOMAS PETTY?” He shouts.
Briar freezes, the blood draining from her face.
