CHAPTER SIX
CHA CHA
Drake places a coffee mug filled to the brim with dark liquid. It looks like tea, but the scent reminds me of something closer to what Kie and Annie used to drink. They both had a passion for iced Americanos while on tour, though I never formed the same addiction.
The mug warms my hands as clods sweep over the mountains to one side of the long kitchen. A long wooden bench dominates the space where Drake braces his forearms, a plate of toast before him.
The corners of my lips turn up, and he catches my smile before I can nullify my expression. One eyebrow gets a workout. I shrug. “I thought my tough guy bodyguard would have something…more. A big overwhelming plate of food.” I wrinkle my nose.
He snorts and finishes up quickly, rising to place his plate in the sink. A quick wash and wipe and the plate is clean and stacked back in the cupboard. Every movement is efficient, nothing wasted, like he’s…
Oh.
Drake smirks. “I’m not like your other bodyguards, princess.”
“How do you know that?” I snark, pushing through a wave of exhaustion that wants to drag me down like gravity.
“I did my research, remember? You’ve had what, five now? And you were pretty close with every one of them.” His voice stays light, but the inference is there.
My tiredness is gone in an instant. “Are you judging me?”
Drake tilts his head to one side. “Judging you for screwing a guy like Major Barrett? Nah, who wants a man who texts his friends pictures of the girl he’s screwing for his personal hall of fame?” he snorts when I stare. “It’s a small world, Cha Cha. I was in that chat group.”
“Did you share your conquests too?” I ask, in the same disinterested tone he used earlier.
Scarred fingers splay on the wooden benchtop. “If I was screwing a client, no one would know, princess. Not the media. Not my friends.”
There's that final tone again, like I've insulted him by asking. Not about the conquests and brag walls, but his personal standards. Every minute I'm with Drake, I learn something about him. I study his face, how he holds himself and the connection finally pings.
“You're military, aren’t you?” The penny drops far too late for me, though the clues are there.
The harder brand of muscle not the gym earned stuff, the incessant neatness, both so different from my previous security.
The way he doesn’t joke around, how he ignores the rules, even.
Because security who work for celebrities live by those rules.
That’s how they get jobs. But Drake doesn’t seem to care about that at all.
“Ex military.”
Apparently that isn’t a conversation we’re delving into.
I frown. “So why are you a bodyguard, then?”
He leans across the counter and pushes my untouched toast toward me. “Eat up. I want to teach you, and you want to learn. That sounds like a good deal to me, but you need fuel for that.”
The toast is buttered, and it’s more food on a plate than I’d normally consume in any sitting. “If I say no?” I peek at him through my lashes.
Drake pushes my plate closer with one finger, silently sassing me. “Then you’re shit outta luck on both fronts, princess, and I figure this shit out alone.”
I inhale slowly and pick up a piece of buttered toast. My stomach rumbles on cue, the freaking traitor, and I take a bite. The butter sinks onto my tongue and I fight back a moan.
That same deep sound Drake made before when I agreed to his terms earlier returns. “When was the last time someone made you breakfast, Cha Cha?”
I take another bite and shake my head. “I don’t know.” I try the coffee next, willing myself to hate it. I don’t. So I try to hate Drake instead.
Fuck.
Even the mug feels heavy, and his house is too beautiful to smash anything in. Tears well in my eyes. I dip my head, hiding beneath my hair that swings forward.
Calloused fingers brush my cheek across the wooden divide. I cling to my coffee mug, unwilling to part with the gift.
“It’s okay if he scares you.” Drake’s fingertips graze my skin.
I let myself drink in the contact for a moment before I step back. What the hell happened to Operation Seduce Mr Bodyguard? “I’m not scared of him.”
Drake’s hand drops. “You should be, Cha Cha. Eat, and I’ll tell you why.”
By the time I finish my toast, I’m glad that he told me to eat first. Because once Drake has outlined all the reasons why there's only three letter writers, and which ones will never actually make good on their threats, I no longer want to see food ever again.
“Is the threat sinking in yet, Cha Cha?”
I like it better when he calls me princess. There was something fun and flirtatious about his behavior, then. Now? This is serious Drake, the man ready to plan a strike with military level precision.
“I thought the sexual innuendos would be the worst ones,” I whispered, blinking fast to clear my vision.
No matter what I do, I can't push away the nauseating feeling of being invaded. My dressing room, where an intruder did actually break in, even though I wasn’t there; my thoughts.
My body, though no one has touched me. It still feels as though a person has.
Someone thinks these things about me, and I can’t stop it.
I push back from the bench top, knocking my mug. Tepid coffee slops over the side before Drake catches the cup.
“Cha Cha. If you don’t face him now, you won’t know what sort of a man is coming for you,” he says evenly as I back across the open space behind me.
I shake my head, my arms wrapped around myself. “I don’t want to see it again.”
“The real one?” He’s in front of me in a second, and I can’t work out how he moved so fast.
“Any of it.”
Warm, scarred hands rest on my waist. Drake is a solid presence before me, unrelenting.
Merciless. “Choose to be in denial, Cha Cha, and this threat will rob you of your peace. He will steal fragments of your sanity until you can’t sleep.
You won’t be able to sit in a room alone and wonder if this last breath is it. If he's coming for you tonight.”
My heart slams into my chest as my vision grays at the edges. I force my head back, my neck aching as I meet his eyes.
“So I’m panicking,” I breathe. “Is this what you want? Maybe this is why no one ever told me.” My teeth chatter, cold sinking into my arms, but warmth radiates from my waist where Drake holds me.
“Yeah, they never told you because they didn’t want you to react. Because they couldn’t help you.”
“And you can?" I clamp my teeth shut, refusing to let my body react. Refusing to let this unnamed person take possession of my body.
Drake smiles. “Good. That’s good, Cha Cha. Keep pushing it away. The fear. Don’t let it rule you.”
I glare at him. “Fuck. You.”
“My pleasure.”
He doesn’t mean it in a sexual way, though his eyes glitter, dark and dangerous.
No, Drake takes pleasure in seeing me fight back, I think, rather than being the inactive diva doormat I’ve made a career out of, all temper tantrums and acts and stuffies in dressing rooms watched by people who don’t care who I really am, just who they think they want to be instead.
“Fine, I get it. This is reality and I have to live it. So, Mister Bodyguard. Show me what you got.” My chin stays up even as my bravado falters.
“Big words,” Drake mutters, watching me closely. “I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself so that when that ego fails you, princess, you’ve got a whole toolbox to rely on.”
“What about you?”
His hold on me drops away. “What about me?”
“Isn’t that your job? You’re supposed to be there, protect me?” My defiance switches to curiosity.
Drake laughs, soft and low. The sound reverberates around the open room, sinks into the wood that imbues with the sound. “This is me protecting you, Cha Cha. The rest of what I do? If you can see it, then I’m doing it wrong.”
My nose twitches. I want to challenge him further, because sassing him is both safe and fun. He’s taken what was a terrifying moment and reduced my fear to something strong and manageable.
“I don’t want to be shut out of my own life anymore." I suck in a long breath. “I want to learn.”
“Yeah?” He considers me. “Are you willing to take direction from me? Because what I’ll teach you is dangerous, and if you don’t listen well, one, or both of us, are gonna end up hurt. Can your ego handle that?” His dark eyes glitter at me like before.
He’s baiting me, right after I nearly ran from him, but I understand why.
Drake needs to know if I’m going to be a catastrophe in the making of him if I say yes.
But something changed last night, between the dressing room and the girl who snapped the letters in his face, the one seeking answers.
Because that version of Cha Cha Min didn’t understand the threat. She didn’t know the secrets. And now…
“I’ll listen.” My words come out stronger and softer than I expect, surprising both of us.
Drake rocks back onto his heels, his face clearing. “Alright. I’ll teach you what I had planned for this morning, but the lessons stop the moment you play the princess on me. Is that clear?”
He intended to show me anyway. I just stepped into his plan and threw my ego into a showdown with a man I don't understand. Part of me wants to rant and rave at that. The other half knows that if I don’t play this his way, he’ll clam up and I won’t get another word out of him.
But my bodyguard isn’t the only one who can play games.
I’ll listen, and I’ll soak in everything he’ll teach me.
But he’ll get the full Cha Cha experience for his efforts.
No matter how dangerous this man is, he’s also strangely safe.
His touch is warm, and knowing. I want to push his boundaries.
Maybe after the lessons are over for the day, I’ll show him another side of me.
The part my other bodyguards never got to experience.
I lick my lips. “It’s a deal, Drake. How do you want me?”
The sharp breath he inhales tells me I’ve nailed what he wants from me.
Cha Cha: 1, Bodyguard…
It’s your turn, Drake. Don’t let me down.
The predatory look that shadows his gaze promises me he won’t. I have less than a second to wonder if maybe this man might be more than I can handle, before he turns away and strides down the long hall to the opposite end of the house without another word.
And I follow.