The Author and Her Bodyguard

Chapter 15

When my heart won't beat at a normal pace but instead chooses to slam into my ribcage like a frantic bird wearing football gear, I hold my breath. I hold it until the fight leaves my heart and it tires itself out. But the problem with doing that is as soon as you let out the air, everyone around you knows something is wrong. The loud sound comes across like a balloon deflating in a dramatic fashion. 

So as Tate settled the car onto the freeway, I tried to casually let out an uneasy breath and was rewarded with two sets of eyes staring at me. 

"You okay back there?" Tate asked, voicing both of their concerns. I was sure Aiden was relieved to have Tate around, it meant his cousin could do all the heavy lifting in holding up a conversation with me. This must be like Christmas morning for him.

"Earth to Laliana?" Tate asked, pulling me back to the present. "You okay?" 

Nope. Not at all. I was on the verge of another spiral. I was about to go sign a contract to have a world that had only been real in my head come to life in movie form. Yes, it was exciting, but it was terrifying and scary. And it made me want to crawl in bed and take a nap. But would saying all that out loud make me sound crazy?

"I'm fine," I lied with great difficulty and most likely terribly. 

Aiden snorted. Yep, didn't fool anyone.

"Okay, fine. I'm a little shocked. Didn't expect everyone else to know about a movie deal before I did. 

I watched Aiden and Tate look at each other and then back at me. "Sanders didn't tell you?" Aiden asked, his brow arching upward. 

I began to tug on a strand of hair self-consciously. "Well, she told me that a few studios were waiting to see how the third book did and then they may make an offer... but the book came out yesterday, so I thought it would take more time."

Tate yawned rubbing at his eyes fiercely. "Well, no wonder you look like you are about to pass out."

Understatement. I feel like I am going to die of a panic attack.

"What time am I supposed to be at the studio?" I asked. 

Aiden checked his phone. "A few hours from now." 

My fingers itched to get out of the car. I needed fresh air. I needed to think. I had no interest in showing up to the studio early. "Let's drop Tate off at his house."

Tate shook his head, yawning again. "I'm fine. You need to get to the studio."

I waved my hand dismissively. "We have time. Besides, you said so yourself, it's the middle of the night for you. And you are driving us around, half-asleep in LA traffic. Not the best way to keep someone safe."

"Fine!" Tate relented. "I'll go back home and sleep. For the greater good." 

Aiden smiled against his better judgment. "Any excuse for a nap," he muttered. 

"Better to sleep a lot than to pretend you don't need sleep," Tate snapped at Aiden.

Aiden glanced at me. "Yeah, let's get him home. He's just going to get mad if he doesn't sleep."

"I can hear you!" Tate growled. 

I snickered. "Yeah, it's nap time for sure." 

"You guys suck," Tate mumbled. 

"Whatever you say," Aiden replied with a small grin.

...

After a cranky twenty-minute drive which led to Tate transforming into a smaller, less terrifying version of Aiden, he slunk out of the car, and shuffled into his apartment complex, with a weak wave of goodbye and a loud yawn.