“I don’t know who you think you are?—”
Taio’s jaw flexes as he steps forward, his shoulders squared. “I’m her bodyguard. That means I’m paid to care when someone puts her at risk.” The space between them shrinks; he seems to wilt under Taio’s gaze.
“I don’t control this circus, man.”
“Sure you do. You led them right to her with your location tags and your thirst-trap photos. You might as well have sent out invitations, and now you’re posing while that creep tries to violate her.”
“That’s ridiculous?—”
“Is it?” Taio’s voice rises, cutting through the noise of the crowd. “How the hell do you think I found you guys? Because I tracked you here using your Instagram stories. If I could do it, so could every other bastard with a camera and a grudge. You wanted attention so badly you didn’t care what it cost her. These are just cameras. What if someone showed up with worse? Do you ever fucking think?”
The paparazzi have gone quiet, sensing drama better than any tabloid story. Cameras are still flashing, but the questions have stopped. Everyone’s watching.
Grayson’s face has gone red. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to back off. Charlie is my girlfriend. And you are now fired. This is none of your business.”
Taio doesn’t flinch. “Let me be abundantly clear. There will never be a time where her business isn’t my business. Get what I’m saying?”
Grayson balls up his fist, the veins in his forearm bulging.
The crowd murmurs. Someone actually gasps.
“Oh yeah, tough guy? Come on. I’ll give you the first swing. But you better kill me. Because when I swing, you die.”
Standing there, they’re like two different species. Taio’s shoulders block out the light of the cameras, his frame hewn from intimidating strength. Grayson, with his cardio-sculpted gym physique, suddenly looks like a child playing dress-up. If fists start flying, there won’t be a contest—only a reckoning.
“Taio, please don’t.” My fingers find his forearm, just a whisper of contact against his skin. I glare at the crowd surrounding us. “Would you guys please give us some space?”
They don’t budge.
For a moment, I think Grayson might actually swing at him. His fists are clenched, his jaw tight, his whole body vibrating with suppressed rage. Instead, he turns to me. “Charlie, let’s go.” He holds out his hand.
The paparazzi erupt.
“Charlie! Who is this guy?”
“Are you and Grayson breaking up?”
“You let your bodyguard act like this and keep him on payroll?”
The questions come from every direction, overwhelming, inescapable. I feel myself starting to spiral, the old familiar panicrising in my chest. This is going to be everywhere. This is going to be the only thing anyone talks about. My reputation, my career, everything I’ve worked for?—
“Charlie.”
Taio’s voice cuts through the noise. He’s standing in front of me now, his back to the cameras, blocking me from view. In the eye of this hurricane, his gaze finds mine—an impossible calm.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know this isn’t how you wanted things to go. I know you’re scared about what happens next.” He takes a breath.
“Taio—”
“But I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending. I don’t want to be the secret you’re ashamed of.” His voice is steady, certain. “I’m getting rid of everything that comes between you and me. My father, my past, all the bullshit I’ve been carrying—it’s done. And if you want me, I’m right here. If you want me to go”—he glances at Grayson—“I can do that too. What do you need from me?”
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “There are cameras everywhere,” I say with tears in my eyes.
He holds out his hand, palm up, an offering. “What do you say, Tweety? You want to do this for real?”
The flashes are blinding. The shouts are deafening. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to be careful, to think about the optics, to protect myself from the inevitable fallout.
But then I look at Taio—really look at him.
