Bodyguards ruin all the fun.

I've made it in the music business without anyone's help, so when a guy shows up, claiming to be my bodyguard, I do what any independent woman would do—I cripple him with pepper spray.

Turns out, he was telling the truth. My record label did hire him on my behalf.

Whoops.

If things could get worse, they do. My new bodyguard is a former schoolgirl crush, Josh Coleman. How was I supposed to recognize him, all grown-up and muscly?

I want to hate having Josh around—I really do—but I can't. He can navigate cringeworthy paparazzi photos, handle vain male co-stars, and hold back rabid crowds like a champ. There's just one problem: Josh is off-limits. One measly kiss to see if his lips are as soft as they look and he'll lose his job. If Josh wasn't so noble, he'd give me what I wanted.

Bodyguards seriously suck the fun out of everything...