Page 36 of Her Cruel Bodyguard

I am about to say something but I see Paul strutting to a seat a little away from us from the corner of my eye, sunglasses on to conceal the black eyes he got from Fabio. There are still some slits on his lips and part of his cheek.

He is wearing a light blue sweater and black jeans, his camera and notepad clattering on his desk as he tosses them. His jaw clenches the longer I openly stare at him. I don’t know if I hate or pity him. But I do know I want to keep my distance.

“Hey, Paul,” Gloria waves at him. He waves back but says nothing. “Cranky this Monday morning,” she snorts.

“He tried to force himself on me,” I whisper, and her eyes fly open.

“Fabio did what?” She drops her head.

“Not Fabio, Paul,” I point with my eyes, and she blinks unbelievably. “It was Fabio who got in the way and gave him the beating of his life,” I slurp my coffee.

Gloria looks at Paul for a quick second and snorts. “He deserved it. No means no,” she bites from her burger. “How disappointing, and there I thought he was the dream guy.”

“Your dream guy, narrow it down,” I tap on the desk with my forefinger, but she only nods, “Something happened after that, between Fabio and me,” I look over my shoulder, ensuring we are away from earshot.

She comes a little too low, almost kissing the desk, and I roll my eyes at her.

“Gloria, sit up.” I snap my fingers on her face, and she pouts.

“Fine. I thought it was a top-secret level.” She sits straight but crouches in a way that brings her face closer to me.

“It is, but you are drawing attention and being overly dramatic with it,” I slurp, then put down my cup of coffee to rest my elbows on the desk. “I had sex with Fabio last weekend,” I spill, and she shrieks in excitement.

“You did not!” She drops her burger on the paper bag and claps her hands together.

“I did,” I smile now, some of the tension wearing off, thanks to her lightheartedness over it.

“How was it?” She leans forward. “Was he good? I hope he wasn’t a jerk about it since it was your first time.”

“No, not at all. He was affectionate, and I had an orgasm,” I whisper that part, my face burning up as heat stirs in my stomach.

“Your first time, and you had an orgasm?” She opens her mouth, and her eyes stretch so wide that I fear they might pop out.

I slap a hand in the air to wave her off. I want to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but she told me about her first, and it was all the encouragement I needed to abstain from sex. She had told me how hard it is for her to find someone she connects with on that level.

But here I am, my first time with the man of my dreams, and I had an orgasm.

Now I know how people who hit the jackpot feel.

“But…” I say, chewing the inside of my lip. “He has a son, his name is Jake and the boy is six years old.”

“Fabio has six-year-old son?” Gloria’s voice shoots up, drawing some attention to us.

I gesture for her to shush it and bring my head low, “It’s not a problem for me. I am happy because it means I wouldn’t need to drop out of school and get pregnant immediately if we get married, like my father would want,” I pick up my cup of coffee, “And the boy is adorable. His mother is a sweet soul, too.”

Gloria leans back, like it’s too much information and she is trying to get the right one to stick.

“Then why is there a but?” She says as the lecturer, Dr. Janel, struts to the platform, ballcap covering her whiskey blonde hair, black framed thick frames, baby blue shirt, and baggy jeans.

“There’s a but because he thinks I deserve a clean slate,” I reach for my bag, and Gloria makes a bemused facial expression before spinning to face the platform.

Thank God I am not the only one who thinks Fabio was spitting jargon.

I put on my glasses and turn my attention to Dr. Janel, all the while feeling Paul two seats beside me.

“Can I talk to you after the lecture? Eva?”

I am shocked to see that he is talking to me, but I nod, wishing I could get out of this hall before he can approach me. I probably should follow up with Dr. Janel as soon as she leaves the class, pretending to have specific questions that I couldn’t ask in class. Only I risk getting a personal assignment.

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