Chapter Nine #2
“That’s not going to happen. You’re going to advance in the opposite direction.”
“Run, you mean?”
“Absolutely, I mean run. I’m not teaching you to fight, Aurelia. I’m teaching you how to get away from danger. Next step, shove and run.” He braces his feet and beckons at me. “Come on, try to shove me and move me.”
“Seriously?”
“Go for it.”
I brace my feet too, then move forward. He puts his hands on my shoulders.
“Push me,” he instructs.
I push his chest. He doesn’t even budge. I huff, trying not to think about how his abs are hard as rock. “For fuck’s sake. You’re like a monolith.”
“You have to commit,” he insists.
“I am committed.”
“You pushed me like an apologetic librarian.”
I grumble beneath my breath and try again.
He rolls his eyes. “I feel like I’ve been brushed with a feather.”
“Jesus, how much do you weigh?”
“Rude.”
“I’m serious. God, how do you ever have sex?”
He looks startled. “What?”
“You must completely squash the girl.”
“I brace.” He beckons at me. “Try again.”
“I suppose it’s easier from behind.”
“Stop trying to distract me. It’s not going to work. Come on, try again.”
I grit my teeth and shove him as hard as I can.
“And again, princess.”
That riles me up. This time there’s real feeling behind my push, and he stumbles back and laughs. “That’s more like it.”
“God, you’re frustrating.”
“Get used to it. If pissing you off is the only way to get you to react properly, I’m going to do it.”
“So you’re professionally annoying?”
“That’s about the sum of it, yeah. Come on, again.”
We practice another dozen times, and then he says that’ll do for the day, and it’s time to get on with our gym work.
I go off to lift weights and run on the treadmill, but I have trouble concentrating.
It’s impossible not to think about the hardness of his muscles.
If he were any other guy, I’d be nervous about being alone with him, because I know I wouldn’t stand a chance if he decided to do something inappropriate.
Oddly, I wasn’t nervous at all. He could overpower me without breaking a sweat, yet I never once felt unsafe with him.
Secretly, I’m also impressed by the fact that he knows all these moves. I thought he was someone Marcus hired because he was a friend and a big guy, more as a deterrent to would-be onlookers than anything else. I didn’t consider that he had real protection or defense training, but he clearly has.
One day, I’ll ask him about his time in the army.
He might not tell me, though. He’s a very private guy.
Even though we’ve been spending time together, I don’t really know anything about him, including what happened in the army.
He said he wasn’t married and broke up with his girlfriend. I wonder what the story is there?
*
Ninety minutes later, I’m showered, dressed, and sitting in the car as Luke drives me to the office.
“I was thinking,” I say.
“Uh-oh.”
“You told me you broke up with your girlfriend a few months ago.”
He signals right and turns the car onto another road. “Yeah.”
“What was her name?”
“Penny.”
“Why did you break up?”
“Incompatibility.”
“Luke, come on, talk to me. I’m interested.”
“I’m sure you are, but I don’t like talking about it, if that’s all right.”
“Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest.”
He glances at me. “Not everyone feels that way. Some of us would rather keep private things exactly that—private.” He looks back at the road.
I stare out of the window and glower. I keep trying to make this relationship more personal, and he keeps pulling it back to professional.
“Don’t sulk,” he says.
“I was just trying to be friendly.”
“No, you weren’t. You were being nosy.”
“I’m interested,” I say softly. “I want to know more about you.” It’s a genuine statement. I like him. And I’m sure he likes me, too.
But he indicates and pulls into the underground car park. “Nothing interesting about me, ma’am. Just a guy trying to do his job.”
My face flushes. When will I learn? He isn’t going to give way on this. He’s decided he’s going to stay professional, and I need to get used to it, or I’m just going to keep embarrassing myself.
*
For the next few days, I don’t talk about anything personal. I refrain from asking him too many questions, and keep my feelings locked behind steel bars.
It’s more difficult on Wednesday, when we have another self-defense session before our gym workout.
This time, he shows me what to do if a guy grabs me from behind, repeatedly putting an arm around my waist and pulling me back against him.
It’s much harder to remain aloof when you’re pressed against a six-foot-four warm male body.
His cologne invades my senses, and it’s impossible not to fantasize about him lowering his lips to my neck, or about his hands wandering over my body.
But he continues to remain professional, and I’m pretty certain that by the end of the session I’m the only one who’s flushed and worked up by our forced proximity.
I consider cancelling the date with Ivan, but as Friday nears, I think oh what the hell. I haven’t been out with anyone for ages. I also really miss sex. Not that I’m expecting it on the first date, but it would be nice to have the option if things go well.
I’m not sure how I’ll navigate it with Luke trailing along behind me.
The thought of him insisting on going into a potential partner’s apartment so he can check it out before we enter makes me want to curl up like a spider.
I can also imagine the look on his face if I said I wanted to go back to Ivan’s place.
That ironic lift of his eyebrow, and that gleam in his eyes that gives me goose bumps and suggests he’s feeling growly and possessive.
He wants to stay professional, and that’s fine, but what does that mean for me?
I can’t spend the rest of my life too afraid to date another guy because I have a six-foot-four shadow glaring at me.
He can’t play dog in the manger. If he’s going to insist on keeping his distance, he’ll have to get used to me dating other guys.
So when Friday arrives, on the way back to my apartment at five p.m., I say breezily, “I’m off on my date tonight.”
“Hope you have a nice time,” he replies. Is his voice curt? Or is that just his natural brusqueness? It’s hard to tell.
“I’ll be leaving around six-thirty,” I announce.
“I’ll let Stacy know.”
I blink. “Stacy?”
“Yeah. She’ll be your CPO tonight.”
“Oh… are you busy, then?”
He gives me an amused look. “I already work twelve hours most days. I am allowed to have a private life.”
“I thought when you finished at the end of the day they locked you in a box in the security office, and you stayed there until the morning.”
He gives a short laugh, but inside my stomach flips. “Do you have a date?” I ask softly. Would he tell me if he had?
He shakes his head, though. “Nah. There’s a Super Rugby game on at seven. It’ll be pizza and a beer, and I’ll probably doze off by nine p.m.”
“Sounds fantastic, actually.” My voice is a little wistful. “I miss nights like those with someone.”
But he just snorts. “You say that now, but you’ll have fun tonight, I’m sure.”
I look out of the window. I should have cancelled the date. I was only going on it to make him jealous.
Jesus, I’m such an idiot.