Bound to Love by Emma Lyn Wild Page A

pants over his shoulder and held out his hand for me.
    I had looked in the mirror and despaired. I was wearing black pants and white shirt, and tonight I had my black-framed glasses on, because I’d wanted to see the play properly. I had no idea he’d ask me to come backstage and face his fans with him. Before tonight nobody knew about me. Now the whole world would know. All I could do was reapply my lip gloss and hope for the best. I couldn’t even pretend that nobody would look at me. I could pass undetected in a crowd with no problem at all, in fact I had to struggle to make anybody look, but that was before I started dating Troy. And before he’d decided to kiss me twice in one day in front of cameras.
    “They won’t be kind to you, because they’re not kind to me,” he said as I slipped my hand into his. He closed his larger hand around mine, surrounding it with warmth.
    “I know. But all you need to do is date somebody else and they’ll forget me in a week.”
    “There’s only one problem with that scenario,” he said. “I don’t want to.”
    He opened the door and we went outside.
    Whatever peace we’d had in his dressing room was shattered as soon as we went outside. How many people had heard our knee trembler against his door? Because the hallway was crowded. People rushed forward, but thank God nobody with a microphone. A woman chattered at Troy and his phone rang. He slid it out of his pocket, but didn’t answer it, just cut the call. A black-suited man with an earpiece came forward and fell into step behind us as Troy led me past the people, nodding to some, and exchanging a few words with another, but not stopping. I’d never known Troy to have security before. He bent to murmur in my ear. “Don’t worry, it’s just for the theater.”
    Then we went outside.
    If I’d thought the inside of the theater was chaotic, the outside was ten times worse. A great cry went up, and girls surged forward, only held back by the fence.
    I had to admire Troy’s professionalism in the next half hour, as he signed programs and posed for selfies with the fans. Several asked him if he was going back to Hollywood to play superhero Foxman, but Troy gave them the same version of “Wait and see” that he’d told everybody else. I was shoved and ignored, until the big security guy came to stand on my other side and protect me a bit. I sent him a mouthed “Thanks,” but he was too busy fending off fans to acknowledge me.
    Troy put his arm around my shoulders as we cleared the fans and reached the press. They stood in a bunch with high powered cameras and mics, yelling questions. He ignored them all, except to give them a wave on his way past. Speeding up, he swung into the back of the waiting car, and held out a hand to help me in. The security guy slammed the door and slapped the roof.
    Troy tipped his head back and let out a long sigh. “It’ll get better. This is a six week run with an option for six months, so I can’t see more than the hard core of fans turning up every night.”
    I pressed his hand. Now, in the back seat of a car with one-way windows, he looked exhausted. I hadn’t noticed the shadows under his eyes before now. He closed his eyes. “I’ve been walking to rehearsals,” he said quietly. “I guess that has to stop.” He sighed. “I don’t really enjoy this part of fame. Every fan wants a piece of me.”
    “They don’t want me.”
    He opened his eyes and gave me a wry smile. “That’s the other part I don’t like. Because I want you.”
    I forced a smile. The way he looked, I didn’t like it. How could he last six months as Anthony when he looked like this? “So the first night’s nerves are over?”
    “First preview over. My costar has a limited time to spend on the project, so we don’t have months of previews like a lot of plays. Two weeks and that’s it.” He rolled his head on the back of the seat and met my gaze. “I’m going to blow this. Then the media will say