His Shield, Her Secret Empire

Ericks

millions of words she'd written. The fame was a cage, gilded and shimmering, but a cage nonetheless. Every award, every bestse

rs, and the constant glare of the spotlight for the anonymity of a bustling university campus. My disguise was simple: thick-rimmed glasses that hid

No one spared me a second glance. It was glorious. I reveled in the quiet, the freedom to just be. I could sit in the library for ho

had dragged me along. I was nursing a lukewarm soda, trying to look absorbed in my phone, when the shouting started. A group of guys, all broad shoulders and sneering faces, had cornered a sm

words thin and reedy, completely unlike t

sauntered over. "Well, well, what have we here? Little Miss Librarian playing hero?" He

even physically defend myself, years of unexpected self-defense training from my 'celebrity' life flashing through my mind. But if I did, it would draw attention. It w

through the stale air of the union hall. It was sharp, sophisticated, like s

and effortlessly, breathtakingly handsome. His dark hair fell perfectly, his tailored shirt seemed out of place in the casual setting, and his eyes

. The bully, who had been seconds from laying hands on me, froze mid-air, his swagger evapora

th an authority that left no room for argument. He didn't raise his voi

. Just... a little misunderstanding." He gestu

ting second, I felt utterly exposed. He saw more than the glasses and oversized c

voice directed at me now, a stran

y. "Yes. Thank you." My voice s

ss sent a shiver down my spine. "You seem... quiet," he murmured, his gaze

aged, sounding

." He then turned back to Blake, his expression hardening. "B

ew, muttering apologies and promises to behave, and vanished into the night.

t, cruising through his high-level political science classes with an almost arrogant ease. He didn't need to be here, not really. He was cultivating an image, perhaps, or simply biding his time before stepping into his preordained role in the world. He treated the university lik

reason, he ha

ridiculous, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in my chest. I, Holly Erickson, the invisible K.B. Barry, was falling for

ouldn't

. Anonymously submitting a study guide for a class we both shared, knowing he'd appreciate the meticulous detail. I saw him pick up

boutique, and left it on his usual library table, next to his abandoned book, along with a new apple. A silly, sentimental gesture. I watched from a distance as he found it. He picked up the wooden apple, tu

plain girl, not the famous author, just Holly. The one who brought him coffee, w

a new copy of a classic novel he'd mentioned wanting to read. It was foolish, childish, and entirely unli

bookmark tucked inside, when the door to my dorm room burst open

d, pointing at the carefully wrapped book.

r my grandmother," I stammered, c

e study guides? Come on. Everyone knows your little crush." She snatched the package from my hands, her eyes widening as

nged for it, but she

pes, Holly. He likes... sparkle. Like me!" She preened. "Or at lea

sweet, but Kade probably gets professionally curated gift baskets delivered daily." She sig

. This was exactly what I had feared: e

sed, right behind Chloe.

ran col

green eyes glinting with a familiar, unsettling amuseme

"K-Kade! Oh my god, I didn't see

me. He picked up the book, the pressed flower bookmark falling onto

hint of something unreadable in his eyes.

arrassment, and a terrifying sliver of hope all warred within

cket of his tailored blazer. "Keep them coming, Holly," he murmured, his voice a low thrum that vibrated through my bones. He gave m

olish hope bloomed in my chest. He noticed me. He accepted something from me. Maybe, just maybe, th

the secretly world-famous K.B. Barry, finally find the genuine connection I craved, even wit