Absolutely Famous(85)

“Back the fuck off!” Drew roars, his anger echoing across baggage claim. The flashes of the cameras go berserk when he starts freaking out, each one hoping to capture his rage and sell it for a buck. “She’s been through enough!” he yells. His face is red with fury.

His outburst causes the mob to pack more densely around us in their attempts to get a shot of his one of his infamous tantrums. It forces us to walk slower, enabling them to move closer to us than is comfortable. Steve throws elbows from the front, pushing through to the exit that I think is only a few short yards away, but I can’t see because of the constant flashbulbs going off and blinding me.

I’m almost to the door when a photographer sticks his foot out and trips me, either hoping to get a shot of me falling on my ass or hoping to piss Drew off into going nuclear. I yank on Drew’s hand as I start to fall, pulling him back toward me. Evan leaps in and kicks the paparazzo’s leg and catches me under my arms before I hit the ground.

“Don’t evah fuckin touch her!” Drew snaps at the man, his free hand clenched in front of him as he wars with his desire to punch the guy. “Fuck this,” he growls. He wraps his arm around my waist and holds me tight against his hard body, pretty much carrying me. “Evan, on her other side,” he barks at the big man. Steve leads us out the door and Sal follows behind, the four men surrounding me completely. Me, the weak link in this giant undulating clusterfuck.

We burst through the doors and out onto the sidewalk where tired passengers are waiting for ground transportation. Confused bystanders and taxi drivers stare open-mouthed as the mass of paparazzi pours out of the building and resumes their inane questioning, flashbulbs going off non-stop.

Steve opens the door to Drew’s new SUV and Drew lifts me up and tosses me in, eager to get out of here. He pulls himself in behind me and throws his body down on the very back seat next to me, hostility surrounding him in a swirling cloud so thick I can practically see it. Evan hauls his huge bulk in next and sits in the row in front of us. Steve joins Bruce in the front and we depart, leaving the hoard of photographers standing on the curb at Logan Airport.

“What about Sal?” I ask, attempting to slow my rapid breathing.

“He’s getting our stuff,” Drew snaps. “He’ll take a cab to the hotel. Can’t even get our own motherfucking bags.” He closes his eyes and sits back, letting his head tilt up at the ceiling. I see his jaw clenching and unclenching, the muscles twitching under his light stubble.

Reaching out, I gently stroke his rough skin. “Hey,” I whisper. He turns his head toward me and opens his brilliant green eyes. “It’s okay.” I try to reassure him, not missing the pain behind his anger. “We have to get used to it. It’s going to be like this, probably for a while.” I continue running my hand up and down his cheek, the contact with his skin just as much for me as it is for him.

Drew places his hand over mine, stilling it on his face. He brings it to his mouth and kisses my palm, his hot breath sending a jolt of desire through me. “When did you get so strong?” he murmurs into my hand as he drags his tongue across my wrist, forcing me to stifle a moan.

I swallow. “Maybe I’ve always been strong and didn’t know it, but I think that it’s because you make me feel safe and loved, and that gives me the strength to handle anything.”

He releases my hand and shifts so he can bring both of his hands to either side of my face. Pressing our foreheads together he closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. Those few seconds seem to slow down to hours as I feel the connection deepen between us. I study his beautiful face, his long dark lashes fanning out from his eyelids, his brows, relaxed from their pinched and angry position over his eyes, his cheekbones, angular and masculine all the way down to his chin.

He breaks my reverence when he opens his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss on my lips. “I love you Syd. Always.”

“I love you too, always.”

Bruce pulls the Suburban onto the brick driveway in front of the Four Seasons across from the Boston Common. He hops out and speaks with the doorman that greets him out front.

“I’m glad you had Bruce meet us here,” I tell Drew.

“He goes everywhere with me.” I arch an eyebrow at him and he smirks. “Everywhere that they drive on the right side of the road.”

Bruce motions to Steve and Evan who get out of the SUV. Evan holds the door open for us and waits for us to step out.

“Good morning Mr. Forrester, Miss Tannen,” the doorman says. “You’ve already been checked in and your man Bruce here has your keys, so just head on in to the elevator bank and up to the 6th floor. We’ll see to your bags when they get here and have them sent right up.”