Page 11 of Her Cruel Bodyguard

“No need,” he unclasps the seatbelt, “I will come with you.”

“Are you sure?” The words stagger out of my mouth. There will be a lot of people, and you don’t vibe with crowds,” the side of my lip flickers, and he lifts an eyebrow. “Fabio, you can…” he clamps my words, pulling the car window. I stare at my reflection in the tinted frame and hate the fact that I am trying too much, but it feels like it’s not enough.

I don’t want to dramatize my life; I want to romanticize it. I don’t want to cozy up to a stranger while the man I truly want watches me from a distance. I don’t want to have to do any of this, but he leaves me with no choice, and no matter how much I try to give him an opening, he has made up his mind, so I must.

The car door opens, and he steps out in all his glory. The man's aura is mesmerizing, with his tousled black hair and clean-shaven beard. He is beautiful with the sun falling on his face. It makes me want to capture it—to capture him, the object of my inspiration. It feels insulting for him to think I would choose Paul over him.

I observe his every move and think of the best way to capture this moment.

I would blur the corners around himand give his emerald eyes more depthas if they were a windstorm sweeping a forest off. I would make it monochromatic, but I wouldn’t removethe colors of his eyes. Theyare a window to his soul, fitting for a man who takes great satisfaction in being immersed indarkness.

He steps aside, creating room for me to go in front of him, a familiar routine. What I would give to walk beside him and have him hold my hand.

I spin, going in front of him, with each of my steps propelled by the giddiness of being able to get under his mask successfully. I can feel his eyes on my back and it tingles. It’s exciting. I pick up my pace, knowing I need to get to Paul quickly and save face. I don’t know how smart he will be about the situation or if he will agree to be used as my fake boyfriend.

I get to them, Gloria flicking her eyes from side to side to ask in codes if Fabio consented, and I nod, flashing a smile at her. I slink my arm under Paul’s and his head snaps in my direction to look down at me.

“You are my boyfriend,” I blurt out, having no desire to explain the Fabio situation to anyone else for now.

“I am?” His mouth spreads in a smile that would have ladies swooning and spiraling, a smile that does nothing to me.

“Yes, babe,” I nod in Fabio’s direction, and he gets it.

“Hell, yeah, I am,” he drops his head as if to whisper in my ear. “I just hit the jackpot, Eva Teso.” I don’t know what he is talking about, and I will do well to text him later to make sure he doesn’t complicate things by thinking I am hitting on him or that I want this charade to continue in private.

But for now, he will do.

We walkdown the corridor that leads to the cafeteria, waving at a few familiar faces, andPaul seems to be a little too popular for his own good. I hadn’t noticed him before now. How is it he's so popular, yet I've never seen him?

Occasionally,I glance over my shoulder to see Fabio following us. He looks odd, out of context. His allure is not typical. He strides with a certain swaggeras though he owns the place and knows the attention he commands, heads whirling in his way, including mine.

The smell of cream, butter, chips, and vanilla greets us as Paul pushes open thedoor of the cafeteria. We are welcomed by the sound of footstepsand a lot of unknown faces mixed with the quiet chippering of voices over voices, the swinging of bodies from one table to another, andthe students filing to the tableswith their lunches.

“Eva,” Fabio calls behind me as Gloria leads us to an empty table in the far corner.

I smile at myself, hope fizzling in my stomach—hope that he has had it up to his neck and is ready to press the stop button on this boring dramatization of my fake relationship.

“I will be with you in a minute,” I untangle from Paul, expecting him to go with Gloria, but he nods, shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and stands there waiting as I turn and head back to Fabio.

I tamper my smile, hiding every trace of the hope brewing in my stomach.

“Yes?” I hook my thumb on the strap of my sling bag and shove my free hand down the back pocket of my denim pants.

“You want to study here?” He veers his eyes above me, scanning the cafeteria, and I nod, answering his question too quickly if it means he will get to the main point.

“You don’t want me to?” I nudge him.

“Whatever you do, don’t go too far and stay where I can see you,” he meets my eyes now, and I gulp, trying to force the disappointment down my stomach, but it seems trapped in my throat.

With that, the excitement quiets down, and I roll my eyes at him. “Yes, sir.” I motion to leave but as I spin away, our bodies brushing against each other as he bumps into me.

He takes a step back, but the lingering burn from the prickling proximity sticks to my skin.

He swallows, his eyes staying above my head, I know he is glaring at Paul.

“What do you think of him?” I turn, step closer and whisper, “I like him a lot. But my father…” I puff. “You already know what would happen if he found out,” I click my tongue against my teeth. “I can’t tell Vittoria, and Gloria’s judgment is a little biased because of his physical appearance,” I scramble out. “But you,” I point at him. “You can tell me what you think, and I will believe it to be the truth.”

He looks at me, and his jaw clenches, telling me he has no interest in engaging in this conversation. I smile, suppressing my laughter.