The moment Landon stepped through the door, before it could even close behind him, Rachel McAdams's arms were already around his neck, her hot and eager kiss sealing his lips heavily.
This kiss, filled with longing, grievance, and possessiveness, almost made Landon stumble.
"Landon..." she panted, calling his name with a sob-like tremor in her voice. Her fingers were already frantically tugging at his suit jacket, her body pressing tightly against him as if trying to merge herself into his very bones and blood to make up for their three months apart.
Starting from the foyer, clothing became a constraint.
Rachel McAdams's passion was like a long-suppressed volcano.
They stumbled into the bedroom.
Tracy followed behind, closing the front door smoothly to shut out any potential prying eyes.
She calmly placed her handbag on the entryway console, took off her high heels, and stepped barefoot onto the cool marble floor.
Her gaze was calm, carrying a hint of understanding and a faint touch of appreciation, forming a sharp contrast to Rachel McAdams's impatience.
She was indeed doing better than Rachel McAdams; several secret meetings in New York had been enough to alleviate some of her longing, allowing her to act more like an observer at this moment.
It wasn't until Rachel McAdams's breathing grew ragged and she hung somewhat weakly off Landon, her eyes looking hazily toward Tracy in a silent plea for help, that Tracy finally stepped forward unhurriedly.
She leaned down, her movements elegant and precise, removing the final constraints.
An unknown amount of time passed before the intense tide finally subsided.
A lazy atmosphere lingered in the spacious living room, with afternoon sunlight casting dappled shadows across the floor through the blinds.
Rachel McAdams lay on Landon's sweat-slicked chest, her cheek pressed against his skin, feeling his steady heartbeat.
She nuzzled him gently, whispering in a barely audible breath: "I missed you so much... every single day."
This whisper, filled with unreserved attachment and vulnerability, was worlds apart from her previous fiery passion.
However, on the other side, Tracy suddenly burst out laughing.
It wasn't mockery, but a low, hearty laugh mixed with pleasure, sentiment, and a hint of complex emotion.
She lay on her side, propping up her head, watching Rachel McAdams's display of a small woman completely immersed in the happiness of a reunion, then looking at Landon's somewhat helpless yet indulgent expression. It was as if she were seeing a life that only their peculiar combination could understand.
Landon was a bit baffled by her laughter, and Rachel McAdams also looked up, glaring at Tracy with flushed cheeks: "What are you laughing at?"
Tracy stopped laughing and reached out to ruffle Rachel McAdams's messy hair, but her eyes were on Landon as she said meaningfully, "Nothing. I just feel like... our 'big star' is home. Welcome back, Landon. There's still plenty of 'work' ahead."
The 'work' she spoke of carried a deep meaning.
Early the next morning, as the Los Angeles sky just began to show a pale dawn, Landon was already up. It was a rare morning with no scheduled appointments.
He changed into sportswear and quietly headed downstairs, not disturbing the still-sleeping Rachel McAdams and Tracy.
When he pushed open the villa's front door, two newly joined bodyguards were already waiting on either side of the porch: Henry, a burly and serious-faced former Marine, and Paulo, who was equally capable with sharp eyes.
They wore track jackets with miniature communication devices in their ears.
Upon seeing Landon, they merely gave a slight nod and then silently followed him, maintaining a vigilant distance.
"Morning," Landon greeted in a low voice and began to stretch.
Tracy's considerations were thorough; given Landon's current popularity, a solo morning run had become a luxury. This reminded him of Cameron, who also used to have two bodyguards with her.
For the convenience of the team's living arrangements and security, Tracy had even rented the vacant villa next door to serve as temporary housing for assistants, security, and some staff.
Jogging along the quiet, tree-lined streets of Sherman Oaks, Landon tried to recapture a sense of his former solitude.
But the steady sound of Henry and Paulo's footsteps following behind reminded him that his status had changed.
After running for about ten minutes, another group of morning joggers appeared around a gentle slope ahead.
The other party was quite numerous, with several well-built, alert-looking men scattered in front and behind, protecting two people in the middle.
With such a configuration, it was obvious at a glance that the people in the center were of extraordinary status.
Landon had intended to widen the distance or change his route, but as they drew closer and he saw the two people surrounded in the middle, he couldn't help but slow his pace.
That tall figure with a short afro—not yet having shaved his head—with broad shoulders and a running posture that carried a unique rhythm and power, was none other than Kobe Bryant.
And following closely by his side with a light step, occasionally turning her head to smile and whisper to him, was the young woman he was passionately in love with, Vanessa Laine.
Landon had seen the gossip in the entertainment news and knew this couple was in the inseparable stage of their relationship.
Clearly, Kobe and Vanessa also noticed Landon's side.
Kobe's gaze lingered on Landon's face for a moment, and he quickly recognized this new face that had been frequently appearing on music channels and entertainment headlines lately.
A hint of surprise crossed his face, followed by a friendly smile as he proactively raised his hand in greeting.
The two groups met in the quiet morning light. The bodyguards tacitly maintained their distance, but the atmosphere was not tense.
Landon also smiled and nodded in greeting, taking the initiative to speak: "Good morning, Mr. Bryant, Ms. Laine. Sorry to disturb your morning run."
"Hey, no problem." Kobe stopped his pace and wiped the fine sweat from his forehead. His voice sounded warmer than it did on TV. "You're Landon Williams, right? Your songs are being played everywhere lately."
He glanced at Vanessa beside him, who also smiled and nodded at Landon, her eyes filled with curiosity and appreciation.
"Yes, I'm Landon. It's a pleasure to meet you." Landon stepped forward and shared a brief handshake with Kobe.
Kobe's palm was large and powerful, covered in callouses from training.
"Your 'Yeah!' is fantastic," Kobe commented with a sincere tone. "Vanessa really likes it. We have it on loop in the car often." Vanessa nodded in confirmation from the side.
"That's my honor," Landon laughed, not expecting this cold-blooded killer from the basketball court to be so easygoing in private, and clearly very attentive to his girlfriend's feelings.
"I've always been a fan of yours too, Mr. Bryant. Congratulations on winning the championship." Landon was referring to the NBA Finals on June 19th, where they defeated the Indiana Pacers with a total score of 4-2 to win the NBA Championship.
"Thanks." Kobe's smile deepened as he looked Landon over, as well as the two burly men behind him who were obviously bodyguards. "Seems like we're the same; it's not easy to just have a quiet run anymore."
"True, a sweet burden," Landon shrugged.
The three naturally began to jog side-by-side, while the bodyguards formed a loose perimeter around them.
The conversation was relaxed. Kobe invited Landon to watch a game at the Staples Center when he had time, saying he would set aside tickets.
Landon also politely stated that if he ever held a concert in Los Angeles, he would definitely reserve the best seats for Kobe and Vanessa.
Kobe even made a small joke, saying that maybe Landon could do a performance during halftime.
After running for a while, Landon noticed that Kobe's running pace was entirely adjusted to accommodate Vanessa; it was purely for the companionship of being a couple.
Landon knew that based on Kobe's legendary "4 AM" training style—which was extremely disciplined and goal-oriented—this kind of pure aerobic jogging was definitely not his usual style.
He didn't want to take up too much of the couple's rare time alone.