I bob and weave between people bustling down the LA sidewalk, listening intently to the girls lingering squeals and rapid footsteps. They’re chasing me in the hopes that I didn’t hear them. At least, they still sound cheerful so we probably won’t get any angry comments on our socials later.
Hoping to lose them, I duck through the open doors of the nearest building.
The scent of paper and old books immediately fills my nose and I realize I’ve stumbled into a library. Huh. I’ve never really noticed it before.
I don’t have long to consider my hiding place. A little boy with carrot red hair carrying a huge stack of colorful books seemingly appears out of nowhere and suddenly wanders in front of me and I quickly move out of the way, my arms pinwheeling. I like to think that I’m fairly graceful, but running from my fans has left me breathless and out of sorts. My legs refuse to cooperate, and I fall sideways. I brace myself for the pain—and the embarrassment—that’s going to come with hitting the hard tile floor, but instead, I collapse against a firm, warm chest.
Books and papers go flying as I get lost in the most captivating, charming chocolate brown eyes that I’ve ever seen in my life.
CHAPTER TWO
He lifts dark eyebrows, gazing up at me with interest from where I’ve accidentally pinned him to the library floor.
“In a hurry to get some reading done?” he asks from beneath me in a deep, husky voice that’s as alluring as his face. In fact, he’s so gorgeous that I can’t even convince myself to climb off him just yet. I haven’t been in a hunky guy’s arms in a while.
I laugh a little breathlessly. “Something like that.”
Adrenaline fades and mortification finally starts setting in and I force myself to ease back onto my knees. He pushes himself into a sitting position, grinning at me as he shakes his head. Tall and well-built, he’s probably only a few years older than me. Maybe twenty-four or so.
“Um…I’m sorry for running into you,” I sputter, hurriedly grabbing a few of his books from where they’re scattered around on the floor and thrusting them at him.
He shrugs his broad shoulders before climbing to his feet. He sets his books down on a nearby table and then holds out his hand to help me back to my feet.
I slowly take it.
The moment his long fingers curl around my palm, electricity zips through me. I inhale sharply and butterflies materialize in my stomach, whirling around wildly. The sensation is so intense that I have to physically try to remember how to breathe. If he wasn’t still holding me up, I probably would’ve toppled right back to the floor.
I don’t know what’s going on with me, but my knees are quivering and I can hardly look up into his beautiful brown eyes.
I'm not used to being speechless around men—even ones as handsome as this particular Adonis—but his gaze is both warm and piercing and it feels as though he can see right through me to my soul.
But that isn’t the only reason I'm shocked by this man.
He’s looking at me with intrigue and interest—and without a hint of recognition.
This guy has no idea who I am.
It’s been years since I could walk down a street unrecognized, especially here in busy Los Angeles.
At least one G&G fan always recognizes me. If the girls and I go anywhere together, forget about it. We’ll spend way more time signing autographs and taking selfies than we would doing whatever we’d originally planned.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore my followers. I read every single one of the messages I get and I try to respond to as many comments as I can. Without them, G&G would literally be nowhere. Heck, it wouldn’t even exist. But there’s a lot of pressure on a woman when it comes to being a beauty and fashion influencer. When I step out of the house, my clothes and makeup have to be flawless because I never know when someone is going to take a photo and post it on social media. One wrong look and our whole brand could tank. It’s fun to be the “It” girl, but it’s downright torturous at times, too.
I have to be perfect or else I could lose everything that I’ve worked so hard for.
“Hey, are you all right?” he asks gently. “You’re spacing out on me. You didn’t hit your head, did you?”
He leans down a little closer so he can gaze into my eyes. His warm hand rests lightly on my shoulder, dragging me back to reality with a bolt of white-hot lightning that sears right through me.
Crap. I’m acting like a total weirdo. I need to pull myself together, just like I always do. Plastering on a practiced smile, I push back my shoulders and beam brightly up at him.
“I’m totally fine,” I said enthusiastically.
Maybe a littletooenthusiastically if the slightly concerned look he gives me is anything to go by.
He appraises me before shrugging. “If you say so.”
But he doesn’t sound convinced.
