2. Simon #2
I take it and settle in on the opposite end of the bench from her. “Wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” My sarcasm lingers in the air. All I could ever ask is for her to change her mind—about me, about them, about us.
She doesn't bother taking the bait, instead, she peels back the paper around her chicken wrap and bites off a small corner of it. She chews slowly, swallows, and then stares blindly off into the distance, seemingly at nothing in particular.
“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” I dig into my own lunch, a bit afraid that I might be overstepping my boundaries by asking her something so personal when she’s never been the one to open up without immediately shutting back down.
June draws in a breath, her chest expanding slightly before she exhales, her gaze skimming the ground in front of her. She nibbles on the inside of her bottom lip.
A bird flies overhead, casting a shadow over both of us temporarily.
She looks up to watch it pass, but I keep my eyes firmly on her.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she finally says.
I run my hand through my longish hair, dragging it off my brow. “I can’t fix the problem if you don’t tell me what it is.”
"Why are you so sure there's a problem that needs to be solved?" She takes another small bite of her wrap.
“We wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t.” I nod vaguely at the park around us. “You come here to escape the noise of the city—to think.”
“Maybe I just come for the view.”
“Maybe.” Although we both know that’s a lie.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks. It’s a question I don’t expect.
“What?” I stare over at her, reading her face to pick up anything I had missed.
“You’re telling me nothing is wrong with you?” She positions her body toward me, her one bent leg coming up onto the bench and the other pulled up on top of it.
“Other than the obvious?” Instinctually, my body gravitates toward her, turning and facing her the way she had done to me.
“And what’s the obvious?”
“I think you and I both already know the answer to that one.” I grin at her. “But nice try changing the subject.”
June rolls her eyes and reaches into the bag to pull out a box. “Can I have one of your fries?” She pops the top and snags one before I can even respond to her.
Not that I would have said no either way. That woman can have whatever it is she wants from me.
Take the bleeding fucking heart from my chest if it pleases you, June.
A thought that I keep to myself, silently begging her to comprehend what I refuse to say out loud.
“Sure,” I tell her anyway. “Help yourself.” I grab a fry and toss it at her. It bounces off her forehead and onto the ground.
Her eyes widen as she slowly glances up at me. “You did not.”
I throw another one at her. “I did too.”
June latches onto a fistful of fries and chucks them at me. She bursts into laughter, and it completely fucking paralyzes me from even reacting to the fact that I have French fries all over me, one of them stuck in my hair.
I pluck a fry off my lap and fling it at her. “You’re lucky I’m here to protect you, otherwise, I’d kick your ass.”
She catches the thing mid-air and pops it into her mouth, grinning from ear to ear. “You’d lose.”
“In your dreams.” My finger twitches to reach out and brush the hair from her cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear. I imagine the warmth of her skin against mine.
Soft…porcelain…scarred.
I sigh at the mark the blade had left behind, the one from the man that I helped her kill. He deserved that death ten times over for harming a hair on her head.
June brings her hand to her mouth. "What? Do I have something on my face?" She snatches a napkin and wipes at seemingly nothing.
“No. You’re…” But I don’t finish my sentence. I don’t tell her that she’s perfect. Instead, I tell her, “Actually, you have a booger hanging out of your nose.”
“Oh my God, do I really?” She pats around her nose and then reaches forward and shoves me. “You’re a jerk.”
I revel in the reverberation of her touch long after it’s gone, wishing like hell I could duplicate it and put it on repeat. I nod toward the wrap she’s only taken a couple bites out of. “Eat your food.”
“Or what? You’ll feed it to me like this morning?” She raises a brow, clearly calling my bluff again.
“I’m starting to think you like me feeding you.” I lean my arm over the back of the bench. “How about this, you either eat, or you tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I hate you, you know that?” June deadpans.
I take a bite of my burger and nod. “Mmhm.”
She fingers some of my fries, looking for the specific kind she likes. Squared-off edges, extra crunch, the perfect amount of salt.
I pick one up and hand it to her. “Here.”
She narrows her gaze but takes the offering anyway. “I don’t need you.”
Her words knock the wind out of me, even if I was already aware of the truth. “Thanks for the reminder.”
June sighs. “That’s not what I meant, Simon.”
Fucking Christ. My name, her lips, a beautiful melody to my ears.
“Then what did you mean, June?”
She points between us. “This. This arrangement. The whole bodyguard thing. It’s not necessary. I’m not in danger, not any more than any other random girl in this city is.”
“You’re mistaken.” I sip my coffee and continue. “You’re shacked up with three of the most notorious criminals on the entire west coast. Anyone who’s anyone knows who you are. Could spot your face in a crowd.”
“So what? That doesn’t mean I’m in danger.”
“And it doesn’t mean you’re not. The risk is too high. It would be foolish to underestimate the threat level.”
June drags her food off her lap and stands up.
She huffs and runs her hands through her hair.
“This is fucking stupid.” She turns toward me.
“All because what, I got shot?” Her chest heaves up and down.
“That was my fault, because of me. I had it coming. It wasn’t some random attack; it was because I tried to fucking kill you.
” Her hands shake. “I deserved that. But this?” She rocks her head back and forth, tears welling in her eyes.