Chapter 17
BASH
I sat on the couch in the small living room of the apartment, staring at the door to Eddie’s bedroom and replaying his words over and over in my mind like some kind of broken record.
I merely played the role you asked me to play, Bash.
The words hit different now than they had in the parking lot. Then, they’d felt like a slap, cold and dismissive, and completely unlike the Eddie I’d gotten to know over the past few months. But now, sitting alone with nothing but my own thoughts for company, I heard what he’d actually been saying.
He hadn’t been cold because he wanted to be. He’d been cold because I’d been cold first.
Christ, I was dumber than a box of rocks.
I thought back over the day, trying to see it from his perspective instead of my own defensive position.
Eddie arriving at my parents’ house yesterday, ready to charm and engage, only to be met with my carefully professional distance.
Eddie trying to participate in family conversations while I kept every interaction surface-level and appropriate.
Eddie watching me interact warmly with my parents while treating him like nothing more than a client I was obligated to protect.
No wonder he’d retreated into that princely formality. I’d basically told him, through every careful word and measured response, that whatever connection we’d built meant nothing here. That in my real world, with my real family, he was nothing more than a job.
And that wasn’t true. That wasn’t true at all.
I merely played the role you asked me to play.
He’d been protecting himself the same way I’d been protecting myself, except he’d had good reason.
I’d hurt him first, with every careful boundary and every deliberate distance, and he’d simply responded in kind.
And what made it a thousand times worse, was that he’d done it to protect me, to protect my job and keep my sexuality a secret.
I scrubbed my hands over my face, feeling like the worst kind of hypocrite. Instead of trusting in our friendship, I’d retreated into the safe harbor of professional distance, telling myself it was necessary when really, it was just fear.
Fear that my parents would see how I felt about him and ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
Fear that spending these days in close quarters with my family would make it impossible to maintain the boundaries I thought I needed.
But mostly, fear that what we had was too good to be real, and that keeping it professional was the only way to protect myself.
And my parents had noticed. I’d caught the looks they’d exchanged during dinner, the way Mama had tried to draw me into conversations that I’d kept carefully surface-level, the way Dad had made that comment about some people taking time to warm up to new folks.
They’d been confused by my behavior, probably wondering why I was treating someone I supposedly respected and cared about like a polite stranger.
I thought about the Eddie I’d gotten to know over the past few months.
The one who’d tutored me and helped me with my studies.
Who had taken care of me when I’d hurt my back and had given me a massage and held me while I slept.
The one who’d looked at me with such trust and desire when we’d explored this attraction between us.
But I hadn’t given that Eddie room to exist today. I’d made it clear from the moment we’d gotten on that plane that I expected Prince Gregory instead, and Prince Gregory was exactly what I’d gotten.
And the hell of it was, I hadn’t even needed to.
My parents weren’t going to interrogate me about my relationship with my client.
They weren’t going to demand explanations for why I seemed comfortable with him or why we worked well together.
I could’ve acknowledged that we’d become friends without revealing anything inappropriate.
I could’ve let Eddie be himself without compromising my professional reputation.
Instead, I’d let my own fears and insecurities drive me to create exactly the kind of painful situation I’d been trying to avoid.
I had to fix this. I had to at least try to explain, to apologize, to let him know that my distance today had been about my own fears and not about anything he’d done wrong.
Even if he didn’t forgive me, even if he decided he was done with whatever this was between us, he deserved to know that he hadn’t imagined what we’d had.
Before I could lose my nerve, I got up and walked over to his door, then knocked softly. “Eddie? Can we talk?”
There was a long pause, long enough that I started to think he might not answer at all. Then I heard movement, footsteps crossing the room, and the sound of the lock being turned.
The door opened to reveal Eddie still dressed in the same clothes from dinner, but he looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion. His green eyes were guarded, wary, and I felt like shit all over again for putting that expression on his face.
“What do you want, Bash?” he asked quietly, not moving to let me into his room.
“I want to apologize. I want to explain. I want to tell you that I fucked up, and it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me being a coward.”
Something flickered in his expression, but he didn’t soften, didn’t make it easy for me. “I’m listening.”
“Can I come in? Please?”
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped back to let me enter his room. It was identical to mine, down to the faded floral bedspread and wood-paneled walls, but somehow, it felt different with Eddie in it.
“I was wrong,” I said. “The way I acted, the way I treated you was completely wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Eddie sat down on the edge of his bed, maintaining careful distance between us. “You were doing your job. Maintaining appropriate professional boundaries, as you said.”
“No, I wasn’t.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words. “I was being a scared, insecure asshole who let his own fears hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“Bash—”
“Let me finish. Please.” I took a breath, trying to organize my thoughts.
“I panicked. That’s what it comes down to.
I panicked. I was scared that my parents would catch on to what’s going on between us and that we’d be found out.
And instead of talking to you about this like I should have, I completely retreated. ”
Eddie’s expression was carefully neutral, but I could see him listening, processing.
“I told myself it was necessary, that it was the appropriate way to handle bringing you home to meet my family. But that was bullshit.” I started pacing, unable to stand still with this much nervous energy. “The truth is, I was scared.”
“So you decided to hurt me instead,” Eddie said quietly.
The simple statement hit me like a physical blow.
“Yeah. I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Eddie.
” I stopped pacing and looked at him directly, needing him to see that I meant every word.
“I made you feel like what we have doesn’t matter, like you were just another assignment I had to endure.
But that’s not true. That’s not true at all. ”
“Isn’t it? Because it felt very much like I was merely a professional obligation you were trying to manage as efficiently as possible.”
“You weren’t. You aren’t.” Jesus, how could I convince him without putting into words what I hadn’t even admitted to myself?
That he meant so much more to me than I had ever thought possible.
I took a step closer, then stopped when Eddie’s posture tensed.
“Eddie, what we’ve built over the past few months is the most real thing in my life.
Our friendship, our connection… it means everything to me. ”
“You hurt me.” Eddie’s voice broke, showing me the depth of his feelings. “All day, every careful word and measured response, you made it clear that in your real world, with your real family, I was merely someone you were being paid to protect.”
The pain in his voice made my chest tight. “I know I did, and I hate myself for it. You didn’t deserve that. You came here ready to engage with my family, and I made you feel like you had to perform instead of being yourself.”
“I gave you exactly what you seemed to want—Prince Gregory being appropriately grateful for the hospitality of his bodyguard’s family. Polite, distant, completely professional.”
“And it killed me. Watching you be that formal, that untouchable, killed me. But I didn’t have any right to be hurt by it when I’d created the situation that made it necessary.”
Eddie studied my face for a long moment, and I could see him weighing my words, trying to decide whether to believe me or protect himself further. “Why now? What changed between the parking lot and this moment that made you realize all of this?”
“Your words. ‘I merely played the role you asked me to play.’ When you said that, it hit me like a truck. Because you were right. I had asked you to play a role, just not with words. I’d asked you to be distant and professional by being distant and professional myself.
And when you gave me exactly what I’d been modeling, I had the nerve to be hurt by it. ”
“It hurt, Bash. Watching you interact warmly with your parents while treating me like a stranger. Seeing you be the person I’d gotten to know with them while becoming someone I didn’t recognize with me.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Instead of answering with words, Eddie stood up and crossed the space between us, stopping right in front of me. He looked at me with an expression that was vulnerable and determined in equal measure.
“Can you hug me?” he asked. “I know that might sound silly, but I’ve missed… I’ve missed you today. The real you.”
I opened my arms immediately, and Eddie stepped into them without hesitation. The feeling of holding him again, of having him trust me enough to let me comfort him after I’d hurt him, was overwhelming.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured against his hair. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like you didn’t matter.”
“I forgive you.” Eddie’s arms tightened around me. “But don’t do it again. Please don’t shut me out.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
We stood like that for a while, until the stress of it all had slowly seeped out of me, replaced by a deep need to connect with him. I leaned back, meeting his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
The fact that I even had to ask was proof of how things had changed, but I needed to let that go. If he forgave me, I had to forgive myself as well.
“Yes, please.”
The kiss that followed felt like coming home after a long, difficult journey.
Soft at first, tentative, both of us still somewhat cautious after the hurt of the day.
But then Eddie’s hands fisted in my shirt and I cupped his face in my palms, and suddenly, we were kissing with all the desperation and relief and pent-up emotion that had been building between us.
“I missed this,” Eddie breathed against my mouth. “I missed you.”
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Eddie looked at me with an expression that was heated and vulnerable and full of trust that I was determined never to betray again. “Stay. Don’t go back to your room. Stay with me.”