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in what could only
    be described as a Hollywood exit, “I live
    here, remember? Long term parking,
    where I left my car.”
    No, I didn’t remember that he lived in
    Honolulu because he’d never told me. Up
    until now I’d assumed he’d come to Los
    Angeles from Australia, because of the
    accent. I watched his body disappear
    around the corner then stalked across the
    concrete, to the Kia. When I slammed into
    the passenger seat, Miller shot me an
    amused glance that clearly told me what
    he was thinking.
    “It’s not even like that,” I snapped.
    “No idea what you’re talking about,”
    he answered immediately, stifling a laugh.
    He stared straight ahead, but the big ass
    smile threatening to slide across his face
    said it all.
    Once we escaped the airport chaos,
    traffic was scarce. I spent the entire ride
    drinking in the sights as the sun slowly set
    and chewing a piece of gum Miller gave
    me. Thirty minutes later, he parked the Kia
    into a driveway belonging to a small,
    wood-framed home that was more garage
    than house. I opened the car door and the
    moment I slid out, I heard the rush of the
    sea nearby. I could smell and taste the salt
    hanging in the air, even though this place
    wasn’t oceanfront.
    “It’s empty,” I murmured, feeling a
    surge of panic rush through me. It was just
    after eight and there was practically
    nobody outside, except for a few kids
    playing basketball at the end of the cul-de-
    sac. This place was empty and organized
    with none of the commotion that I craved.
    Pulling in a deep breath, I forced myself to
    calm down, to focus on the positives. Like
    the sound of the waves.
    Loud and distracting, just the way I
    liked it.
    If I was lucky, that noise would be
    what lulled me into a dreamless sleep
    tonight, and every other night after it while
    I was here. That sound would be just
    enough to drown out the what-ifs and
    images that met me whenever I closed my
    eyes—enough to keep me from sinking
    myself into something else that I’d never
    emerge from.
    No more fucking myself over , I
    silently promised.
    Miller cleared his throat, drawing my
    attention to where he stood a foot away,
    leaning against the hood of the car. In the
    shadows of the sunset, he looked
    absolutely menacing, but he wore that
    laid-back smile that had kept me from
    getting too pissed when he’d silently
    teased me about Cooper.
    “Guess you’re not used to this either?”
    he asked. I followed his eyes back to the
    front of the tiny house and exhaled.
    “At least it’s not rehab,” I whispered
    so softly I wasn’t sure he heard me.
    He walked around the car and opened
    the trunk. When he closed it a moment
    later, my rolling bag, as well as his own
    luggage, was enveloped between his
    massive arms. I tried to take my suitcase
    but he grunted stubbornly.
    “This is my job,” he said.
    I lead the way to the house. “You
    make me feel like a runt.”
    “That’s my job too,” he replied.
    I nodded, though I didn’t turn around.
    The sad part was I hadn’t always needed a
    bodyguard. There’d been a time, about
    four or five years ago, where I was well-
    known enough to get amazing parts but not
    so famous that I needed to be protected.
    To be honest, it sucked to have fallen far
    enough to get the parts nobody else
    wanted and yet still be that actress, the one who was so notorious the studio had
    to hire bodyguards, aka babysitters. Miller
    was probably getting paid more than me.
    I felt my smile slip.
    His own look faltered and he took a
    hesitant step forward. “Are you okay?” he
    asked.
    Bobbing my head a little too
    enthusiastically, I turned back toward the
    front door and opened the lockbox with
    the code Kevin had given me. There were
    two sets of keys, and I dropped one into
    Miller’s outstretched palm.
    “Don’t bust through the ceiling, Lurch.
    The tabloids would be all over me for
    trashing a rental house,” I said, trying to
    lighten the mood. Miller tossed his head
    back