Chapter 5 #3
“Am I making you wet again?”
“Nope.”
I shake my head, pressing my forearms to the door above her. “Unlike your mouth, your body never lies to me.” I push my knee between her legs gently, forcing them apart, but not really; she opens them willingly for me. “Maybe it’s time to learn another rule.”
“Oh, please no,” she goads, her fake breathy tone making the corners of my mouth curl into a grin.
Goddammit, Winona.
She’s so fucking perfect.
“Okay.” I nod. “Rule number two: Never be predictable.”
With every step she takes, I’m there.
I’m still her bodyguard, even from feet or miles away.
She doesn’t know that it’s me.
She knows nothing at all.
And it hurts my heart more than being forced to walk away.
She will always be a part of me, burning through my veins.
The unrivaled roar building in my chest could demolish this entire forest. I pant and inhale the cool air with each step, bringing us closer to the edge.
There you go, birthday girl,“ I say as I set the beer bottles and shots of tequila in front of her. We sit in a corner booth of an old bar, I enjoy visiting for some peace. “Iris” plays softly in the background. “How does it feel to be twenty-one?”
“Great,” she says, and I can hear the sarcasm in her tone from miles away. “Now I just need to get laid. You know, I’m still a virgin—because of you.” She gives me that sassy stare she makes when proving a point.
“Sex is overrated—”
“Say one more word, and I will knock your bike,” she warns, grinding her teeth, but I find it too amusing to hold back my laughter.
She immediately flashes one of her adorable smiles at me, which makes her nose crinkle, as if she’s on a mission to break me out of old habits. And I admire that about her.
Now that she’s old enough and trained, I wonder what she will do with me.
I remember the promise her Grandma made two years ago.
It’s been haunting me since. Curious, I run the pad of my finger over the rim of the bottle.
“I know you’ve waited for this day, so… are you going to keep me?
” I try really hard not to make any expressions.
“What do you do with all this sexual frustration? I mean, you can’t have sex all the time, working for my Grandma, watching over me twenty-four-seven.” She avoids the question entirely.
Grunting, I twist my face and down the shot.
She mimics me and downs the shot I got her, peeling her lip in disgust once it’s over. “Ugh. At least if I can’t have sex, I can live vicariously through you. How often do you do it?”
“None of your business.” I don’t. I look away at the couple across from me, drinking beer and kissing, as if they’ve left their worries somewhere far away for the night. A part of me wishes for that, even though it seems out of reach for a man like me.
Maybe this is my life, being so close but so far away from all the things I really want.
My desire for a real connection is at the bottom of my priorities. I want it to consume me like she consumes me. But she’s off-limits.
I knew the moment I signed the contract. Her name was written in bold, uppercase letters, highlighted in red, telling me I couldn’t have her. She’s the boss’s granddaughter. She’s my job, and I’m responsible for her safety. No matter how much I crave her, she is out of the question.
I just didn’t expect her to crawl inside my heart and carve her name on it. I should’ve known better.
“Come on, you know everything about me. Don’t I get to know a little about you?”
It’s not her burden to carry. She is too precious, and I want her to stay that way. Curious, carefree, and safe to do whatever she wants. It’s my past, not hers.
In my peripheral vision, Winona places her hand on the table, closer to where my hand rests, unmoving. I flick my gaze back to hers. “You are my job. I’m not your job,” I reply. Instead of pulling it away, I keep my hand right there to torture myself a little more.
“You’re my friend…” she murmurs, her fingers drawing circles that slowly prickle every cell in my body. “I know that some girls who pretend to be nice to me do that to get closer to you.”
“I don’t care about them.” I immediately feel the urge to dismiss any doubt she has about me.
“But you care about me.”
“Because I’m your friend…”
She doesn’t have many friends. Even the ones who pretend to be her friends treat her like she’s a spoiled rich girl who has nothing to bring to the table, which is far from the truth.
She’s not spoiled and definitely doesn’t care about her grandmother’s wealth.
She’s smart and annoyingly witty. She believes in ghosts and takes comfort in urban tales and dark romances.
She’s already planning to get her next tattoo, even though she recently had one.
She wants a dog. She runs 10k every day.
She has a part-time job that she’s very proud of.
She takes self-defense classes that she pays for, and she hates being shadowed by me.
She’s just like any other girl living her life, but unfortunately, she has a family whose occupation might harm her in ways her “friends” would never understand.
“Yeah, after all this time, you must be. You’re the closest thing I have to a best friend, even when you love riling me up and saying things just to get under my skin.
I guess that’s why you make the perfect candidate.
I already know your unfiltered side, and I accept it.
I even grew to like you a little.” She says it so casually, but my heart squeezes tightly because it means more to me than she realizes.
She just gave me a compliment and a promotion.
Propping my forearms against the table, I lean on them, bringing myself closer to her, embracing our friendship. “Alright, friend. Take another shot.” I wiggle my brows as she lifts the shot in the air and smiles at me before it disappears down her bobbing throat.
“I bet you’d be thrilled when this is over, and you will have an excuse to carry me around.” She slams the glass onto the scuffed-up surface of the table, grimacing again as the taste fizzes on her tongue.
“I got you.” Always have. Always will.
“Oh, I know.” She blurts as a realization strikes her. “You take it out on the guys who hit on me. If you can’t have sex, they can’t have it either.”
I shoot her an upside-down grin, liking that answer. I never thought about it that way.
“Why not?” I shrug, taking a swig from the beer.
“So, we should have sex.”
Choking on the beer, I cough. “What?”
“If I can’t have sex with others and you can’t have sex because of your job, we can make a deal.” Her almond-shaped eyes shimmer with reverence, her features glowing with warmth. She’s thrilled and proud of her little idea.
“Have you lost your mind?” My voice is deep, shattering the silence before it as my heart hammers against my ribcage. I clear my throat and lean back to calm myself down.
“It’s a perfect idea and solves all our problems.”
“Nooo, it makes everything ten times more complicated.” I vocalize my determined disapproval because if there’s one thing I can’t have, it’s Winona Bishop.
No matter how much I want her, she means too much for me to accept something meaningless when I want her for real.
I want her for all the beautiful things she is.
For three years, I have fought with myself over the promise I made.
If I can’t have her, no one will. And I know how selfish that sounds.
Studying me, she crosses her hands over her half-flashed breasts, squeezing them tightly. The thin top she wears under her jacket hugs her curves perfectly. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, adjusting while still keeping track of her movements. Her tongue comes out to swipe her bottom lip.
“What are you afraid of?” She asks.
Is she as invested as I am? Does she crave me like I crave her? Does she ache for my touch as I ache for hers?
I don’t want her to fuck me and forget about me.
I don’t want her to let me go and regret me after she finds someone better who can give her the life she deserves. But no one is better. They will never protect her like I have.
Like I always will.
“Your grandma, for starters.” Entranced, I respond calmly.
“She doesn’t need to know.”
“There’s the security team.”
“We’ll sneak out and keep things casual.” She truly has an answer for everything.
“What are you smiling about?” I question, narrowing my eyes further at the wicked smile tugging at her lips.
“You didn’t turn it down because you don’t want to have sex with me.”
Any sign of affection is scraped away, turning into a frown. Sometimes, I forget that she can read me like an open book with sharp observations, even when she can’t grasp the parts I don’t communicate. She’s fierce and clever, and everything about her is attractive.
Whenever I stand or sit across from her, she mirrors everything about me; yet her darkness always embraces mine and welcomes me home.
“I’ll tell you what, if you accept the deal, I will have a reason to keep you,” she suggests before downing the third shot. “I’ll give you two months to decide.”
I know she doesn’t mean it in a bad way.
She would never do that because it’s out of character, but it still hurts, as if everything I am to her has faded, especially after she called me her friend.
She knows she can count on me because I’ll always be there for her, no questions asked, for better or worse.
I’m not a ticket to swipe while she loses her virginity.
That is not what I am. That is not how I want her to see me.
I want her to want me because it’s me. Because there’s no one else that she would rather be intimate with.
I stare at her with a hole in my heart the size of a city.
Begging her to choose me.
Choose me for once.
I’m always the package someone tosses around for their benefit.
Used and worthless.
But I absorb. All my life, I have absorbed the pain like a fucking sponge. I wonder, if someone ever tried to squeeze me, would I bleed? Or maybe nothing would come out because there is nothing left.
I have always kept the truth to myself, and that’s on me.
“I have something for you.” Winona captures my attention again, pulling two books from her backpack. She places them on the table, then pushes them toward me with her finger. “I hope you like it.”
I gulp down the shock, giving it a quick glance, and flick my gaze up to hers. “You got me the special edition of The Crow…? And a manga.”
“I remember you talked about it once, enthusiastically.”
I did.
Once.
And she remembered.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for the flower you left me a few days ago. I loved it. I’m going to preserve it in a book.” She beams, and my heart swells again.
A few drinks later, we exit the bar and head to the parking lot. Winona walks in a zigzag but refuses to let me carry her.
That little brat.
This is her first time drunk, and she almost falls asleep standing.
“Let’s take you home,” I say, sneaking my hand around her waist while my lit cigarette hangs between my lips.
“I’m fine.” She snatches the cigarette and takes a drag. “This—” she coughs and drops it to the ground, “will kill you.”
I stomp my boot on it. “What doesn’t kill you—”
She stops abruptly to cup my face. “Wow.”
“Winona…”
She squeezes my cheeks. “You’re gorgeous.”
“You are,” I reply, studying her delicate features and memorizing her constellation of freckles that I have memorized a thousand times before.
“I forgot to tell you,” she whispers.
“What?” I search between her hooded eyes.
“Winona…? Is that you?” A tall woman approaches, and I immediately recognize the other two following her. The triad from school. The girls who pretended to be her friends. “Won’t you introduce us to your bodyguard?”
They inch closer. All wear studded dresses, probably heading to a party.
Winona spins around to face them. “Nope,” she giggles and playfully taps her finger on the woman’s nose. “He’s mine. Now shoo.”
Damn right.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when we reach her tower.
Sometimes, a single word or moment can send me back in time. I don’t always end up where I want to be. The memories with her are sweet and peaceful, but others are cold and twisted.
I crouch down and lower her unconscious body to the ground, then place the precious backpack she swore me to protect beside her. I almost got tased for that thing.
A grin pulls at my lips.
Damn you, I’ll let you tase me as many times as you want.
I caress her cheek with the pad of my thumb, enjoying the sensation of her soft skin against mine. Her long lashes rest against it, and nothing disturbs her overthinking mind. I trace the curves of her perfect heart-shaped lips, taking my time before my thumb trails up her cute, upturned nose.
So hauntingly beautiful.
I breathe in the musky scent wafting from her skin, shutting my eyes and letting it fill my chest. I wanted to feel pain in every way possible, but it never hurt enough, like saying goodbye to her.
My soul screamed for me to return.
I missed her every minute of every day.
I part my lips, fighting the lump in my throat to tell her, “I came from nothing, and you are my everything.”