Three Part Harmony (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Griffin

I need to stop giving Mike so much of myself. I never shared shit like my sexuality with my principals. Hell, some of the security guards I worked with didn’t even know I was bisexual. We certainly didn’t get into anything on a deep, personal level, that was for sure. I also never took my principals to tourist spots such as Fisherman’s Wharf, like we were on a goddamn date. For fuck’s sake, I had no idea what had prompted me to throw out the offer for a side trip like this but that’s how far things with Mike had gone off track.

The funny part? I was certain Mike was oblivious to the subtle shift taking place between us and had been for weeks. I had no idea how he could miss something like this happening right in front of his face. Not unless he felt nothing but ambivalence for me, but I didn’t think that was the case. I saw the lingering glances he gave me when he didn’t think I was paying attention. I caught him practically drooling when I answered the door a short while ago. What he didn’t seem to see was how my focus was always one hundred percent on him. Every shift of his feet, tip of his chin, or even something as innocent as him running his long fingers through his hair, and my eyes were on him. It was like I lacked the ability not to stare where he was concerned.

It also appeared Mike didn’t seem to think it was odd I was always looking to be around him every chance I got—even when I wasn’t on duty. I mean, who hangs out with someone they technically work for after they’ve already been together for a full shift?

My boss, Fizzbo, would say my feelings for Mike would interfere with me performing my job duties. I knew from experience when a security guard failed at that task, principals got hurt. But Fizzbo was wrong about me slacking or losing my focus. My growing attraction for Mike only amplified my skills on the job and I became hyper aware of every situation because there was no way in hell I’d let anything or anyone harm Michael. Not a fucking chance. Fizzbo would likely disagree and then he’d probably want to reassign me to someone else and there was no way I could handle that. I would be in a constant state of worry wondering if his new guard was protecting him to the same level as I did. I believed I was the best guard for Mike and would do whatever it took to keep him safe .

I had to find a way to get control of the other emotions I was feeling for him. This ache I had deep in my bones was dangerous. I’d never felt such a powerful pull to someone before and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. What made it worse, I was pretty sure Mike didn’t share the same feelings for me. It’s probably why he was constantly on the prowl for some action. I don’t think I need to explain how it gutted me each time I dropped him off somewhere knowing he was there to fuck or be fucked.

In reality, it was probably for the best he was actively pursuing other people, because what good could possibly come from Mike and I being a couple? Not to mention, he was still trying to make things work with Oliver and Sebastian and there was no way I was getting in the middle of that triad mess.

Was I jealous? Hell yes, I was. Listening to him tell me even vague details of the three of them together nearly killed me, especially since my mind ran rampant with the visuals Mike hadn’t told me and my brain was working overtime to fill in the blanks just to torture me. I shouldn’t be thinking about any of it and that’s why this was becoming a problem. The idea of anyone sharing a bed with Michael, touching him, or kissing him, made me want to puke. It was important that I remind myself I was in Mike’s orbit for the sole purpose of protecting him. I suppose I should be thrilled he wanted me as friend. But the deeper my feelings grew, the more difficult it was for me to play that role and stand on the sidelines. Every single day that I spent with Mike I found myself wanting so much more with him.

I tucked those thoughts away and got my head back on the job at hand protecting Mike in the middle of a mob. I’d been well-trained on how to use my bulk and muscle to push my way through a dense gathering of people and I’d done it many times on other jobs. Today would be another one of those days I could add to my list. I’d keep Mike tucked in just behind me with my arm wrapped around his side to act as a buffer to keep anyone from bumping into him.

Bringing him to the busiest tourist attraction in the city of San Francisco, a place that received over twenty thousand visitors per day, was insane and I’m certain my boss would have something to say about me risking Mike’s safety like I was. Hell, they’d probably want to fire me if they found out but I certainly wasn’t going to tell Fizzbo about this outing.

I did tell my boss I was shadowing Mike to San Francisco for the weekend, so we were on record for being well outside the parameter of Los Angeles. Fizzbo gave me his blessing for the trip but he also offered two important instructions while I had Mike in San Francisco. He said to keep Mike in safe situations and to avoid any bad press opportunities. Fisherman’s Wharf opened Mike to the possibility of both those directives going south—and quickly, if I wasn’t on top of my game. Even knowing the “what if” scenarios involved with this, I was still excited to take Mike on this adventure to the infamous Pier 39. But for some crazy-ass reason that I couldn’t even admit to myself, I wanted to make a memory I knew he’d remember—with me.

And he was clueless of my intentions .

“Is that all the stuff you brought with you on the trip or do you need to go back to Oliver’s room for something?” I asked Mike as I pointed to his backpack sitting on the floor beside the couch.

“Nope, I’m good,” he replied.

“Did you let one of them know you were taking off?” I questioned and Mike scrunched his face.

“I’m not sure they’d care or notice I was missing.”

Okay, that was a telling comment for him to make, and one I definitely wanted to dig a little deeper into, but not now.

“It’s probably still a good idea to send Oliver a quick text,” I suggested.

I watched Mike pull out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and type a few words before sliding it back into place.

“Did you tell them you’re headed back to Los Angeles?” I asked.

“I told them I was spending the day sightseeing with you,” Mike answered and I grimaced at his choice of wording.

I knew it was a bad idea for Mike to imply something was going on between us when it most definitely was not—at least not on the surface or on a level I was willing to admit to. It would probably be smart on my part if Mike and I talked about perceptions and how outsiders might view our unique working relationship. My guess was Mike’s wording in his text to Oliver was maybe meant to make him jealous, but Mike really shouldn’t be doing that. He and I weren’t a couple and implying otherwise to people was playing with fire.

I was also pretty sure I knew where Ventura Security stood on their guards getting too close to those who we protected. I knew guards who worked for Ventura who fell hard for their principals, some even got married. In fact, I’m good friends with another guard, Max, and he ended up moving in with his rockstar boyfriend, Ryder Hampton, and then marrying him. So, I knew this wasn’t a totally unheard of situation within the company, but as much as these relationships were somewhat accepted by upper management, it was still frowned upon.

I had five or so years under my belt working with Ventura which wasn’t nearly enough in my mind to be rocking the boat with my boss’s boss over being in a relationship with Mike. But every time Mike and I had these long talks he somehow managed to pull more and more personal stuff from the far reaches of my inner self. One minute we’d be talking about him and a beat later he’d turn the tables around and ask me shit like if I’d ever been in a three-way. I honestly didn’t know how he did it and half the time I couldn’t believe the confession spilling from my own damn mouth—without any pressure from him to do so. I was volunteering this information on my own! He was either that good at interrogation tactics or I was that hung-up on the guy to a point where I was acting desperate for him to know all my secrets. I didn’t want either of those options to be true.

Our driver dropped us down by the trolley turn-around in front of the pier and from there we’d be on foot. I helped Mike get his backpack over his shoulders and did the same for myself, then directed Mike into the heavy crowd of tourists.

“Have you ever visited San Fran?” I asked Mike.

“Nope, I’ve never been this far north in Cali,” he answered .

“You’re strictly an LA man,” I stated.

“More like an LA rat,” he replied. “I know every gutter and back alley there is in the city, just like a rodent.”

I saw his smirk and knew he was kidding but I still didn’t like it when he said disparaging things about himself. He’d revealed quite a bit to me and I knew for a fact he was a decent guy—on the surface, as well as deep inside. I sure as hell liked everything I’d learned about him, so why would he think others didn’t? It made me wonder what Oliver and Sebastian had done to make him question himself today. I wanted to ask but wasn’t sure it was my place.

We entered the pier area and worked our way through the throng of tourists. I kept close to Mike, either directly up against his side or partially in front of him while some of my body formed a protective barrier around him. My gaze was laser focused on our surroundings, constantly looking around on alert for anyone showing signs of aggression or interest in Mike’s identity. I also kept my hand at his lower back while my other arm pushed away anyone who accidentally got too close to him.

Every once in a while we’d get bumped and my fingers pressed into his lumbar in an effort to ease any anxiety he might be feeling. It was my way of letting him know I had him covered. The hard truth was, I just liked touching him, no matter how subtle and innocuous the contact was. Plus, he smelled really good, and from what I could tell, it was from nothing more than his own natural scent with a hint of citrus, possibly from a bodywash .

I directed him over to the marina docks to take a look at the sea lions and seals that lounged around sunning themselves which Mike seemed to like a lot. He took a few photographs of the noisy beasts with his phone and even surprised me when he leaned in close against the railing overlooking the docks and took a selfie of the two of us together. The camera loved Mike, with his mop of wavy hair and darker whisker scruff covering his jawline and upper lip, but me? Not so much. I was on duty and with that came the stoic, no-bullshit-allowed kind of expression chiseled onto my face like a stone mask I’d dropped into place. My eyes were concealed behind classic, very dark Aviator sunglasses that I wore while on the clock because they allowed me to peruse the area and the people buzzing around like bees for any form of threat without anyone knowing my attention was on them. Our training always included multiple scenarios just like this crowded pier and I could say with complete conviction that I was more than prepared for this challenge and any others that arose.

The selfie Mike took would have been a nice photo of the two of us if I’d been smiling like he was or if I’d had a moment to metaphorically remove my “guard hat” and simply be a man enjoying the day with a friend. But Mike was once again being spontaneous which was one of many details I loved about him. I made a point of fluffing off the photo-op as if it were no big deal but when he sent me a copy through our text message thread I quickly saved the shot in a special personal file I had on my phone. I refused to look too closely at the reasons behind why I’d done that, except I somehow knew it was important for me to keep it locked away.

We strolled around the pier for a bit with me doing an intricate dance to keep distance between Mike and everyone else. A few times I had to somewhat blanket Mike with my body to keep him protected. He laughed at my behavior but I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t necessary. Not to mention, this was my job.

A minute later, Mike was chattering away happily beside me as we walked along the boardwalk. Suddenly, a raspy growl followed by a gruff scream and some yelling pierced through the din of the crowd surrounding us. My training kicked in the second my brain registered there was a possible threat. My eyes quickly scanned the area where the raised voices came from and I saw two heads bobbing above the tourists as they ran in our direction. I saw people being shoved aside as the two forced their way through the packed pier. I had mere seconds to react to this potential attack and reached behind myself while I remained laser focused on the impending confrontation and used my arm like a hook to reel Mike closer to my hulking frame. In this position I could be a personal shield for Mike from what was about to come bursting out of the crowd at us. Whatever it was, I was ready.

“Get behind me!” I ordered, and in another beat I had him slammed up against the clapboarded siding of a building a few feet to our left, my larger body almost completely blanketing him. The crowd then parted and two younger guys, probably in their late teens or early twenties, came rushing out; one chasing the other who was carrying a skateboard. I won’t lie, my chest deflated with relief knowing we weren’t in harm’s way but had it been a real threat, I would have neutralized it any way I had to in order to keep Mike safe.

“You do realize that no one knows who I am, right?” Mike teased from behind me. “I mean, you’re not guarding Dagger, and it is highly unlikely anyone would recognize a nobody drummer from a B-list band here or even in LA.”

I couldn’t believe the words that spilled from Mike’s mouth and spun around to face him. My arms bracketed him against the side of the building, my hands placed on either side of his head with my arms extended. My swift actions and body placement lacked any form of real aggression and was solely meant to get his attention, which it more than did—but not in the way I had planned. I saw shock register in Mike’s eyes the second I essentially trapped him but then something else fell into place a second later. It looked a lot like lust, desire, and maybe a bit of nervousness. His reaction lit something inside of me on fire and I almost moaned.

I wet my lips and watched Mike track the languid swipe of my tongue across my lips before his gaze flicked back up to meet mine. I saw the exact moment his arousal flared further when his pupils blew wide and his gorgeous irises almost disappeared from the eclipse. I had to catch myself from sighing from the way Mike’s face flushed with heat. I wanted to take his mouth so badly right then, every fiber of my being thrummed with the need to taste him, but I had to shut it down.

“Don’t say things like that,” I said instead of kissing the hell out of him like I wanted .

“Say what? That no one will recognize me here? But it’s true,” Mike said.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Neither of us was doing a damn thing to step away from the other. If anything Mike was starting to lean in closer to me. I could feel his body heat and smell the intoxicating scent I knew was unique to only him. I wanted to taste him on my tongue, inhale every crease and warm spot he had, and I wanted to feast on his mouth for days, but I knew none of that could happen.

“Some people might not know who you are but you are in no way a nobody and your band is not B-list ,” I said. “I don’t like it when you talk down about yourself. You’re incredibly gifted and one day soon everyone is going to know who you are and you’ll be wishing you had these somewhat anonymous days back.”

“Is that your way of telling me to enjoy being ignored by fans while I can?” Mike asked and then laughed.

I couldn’t help but smirk. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

I knew I was standing too close to him, and for no clear reason, but I was having trouble remembering why I should move away. With his gaze locked on mine and his warm breaths bathing my face, it was difficult to remember my own damn name. Finally, I felt Mike’s hand press against my solar plexus and then his fingers trailed lower, lightly grazing over my abs. That got my attention real fast and I jumped a good two feet back.

“Nervous I might latch onto your… gun ?” Mike asked.

“I’m not carrying today,” I admitted but omitted the fact I had a taser concealed in my boot .

In the time I’d been working for him, I’d been acting as his personal protection officer strictly in a precautionary capacity. Eventually, our operating status for Chaos would expand to more of a bodyguard role which involved a more physical form of protection for the principals and involved a higher level of skill set which we all had. We endlessly trained for every kind of threat imaginable.

My brain clicked into gear and I acted before fully registering what was going on. That’s what the constant training did for us. It was like muscle memory in the sense we jumped into our job protocols without needing a lot of time to think about what needed to be done. We instinctively knew what to do. Fizzbo, would’ve had a ‘proud commander’ moment if he’d witnessed me springing into action the way I had today.

Mike didn’t need to know the nitty-gritty of what his security team did, or the whys behind it. What was important was that he knew he was safe. But as Chaos became more famous, their security would morph along with their rising stardom and into more sophisticated levels of protection. Right now, the shadowing we were offering the guys in Chaos was merely getting them used to having us in their lives. In essence, we were expensive babysitters at the moment, but this was a critical first step on their way to the big leagues.

With the added distance I created between us, our heated moment abated. Mike shoved off from the wall of the building and stepped closer to me and I went back to being his body armor as we walked around the pier. It was a beautiful day to stroll around, check out the souvenir shops and people watch, and Mike seemed to be enjoying it. He stepped into one shop to look at the t-shirts but then his eyes caught on a keychain with the Golden Gate Bridge painted in rainbow colors. I watched him carry two of them to the register to pay.

“Buying gifts for your boyfriends?” I asked like a jealous moron.

“Oliver and Sebastian are not tied to me in any official capacity,” Mike explained. “Besides, I have someone else in mind for this one and I’m going to keep the second for myself.” He handed the cashier his credit card. “I don’t need a bag,” Mike told her and tucked both keychains into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Are you hungry?” I asked him once we returned to the pier walkway.

“I could eat,” he replied.

“Do you like seafood?” I questioned.

Mike scoffed. “Who doesn’t love seafood?”

“Those who are allergic,” I added with raised eyebrows.

“Doesn’t apply to me, so we’re good,” Mike pointed out. “So, where’s this seafood restaurant?”