Page 38 of Her Cruel Bodyguard

I need a better distraction. Anything at all will do. A night out or some time away. But that is another problem because I don’t want to be away from Eva. The constant confusion of wanting to be chosen by her and not wanting to give myself to her is fucking with my mind.

Eva steps out with Gloria. She is wearing gray sweatpants and a pink T-shirt, and Gloria is wearing a blue dress with angry stripes of some plant.

I watch through the rearview mirror as Eva halts a few steps away from the car. She is chatting away and Gloria has a small smile on her face, and occasionally, she throws her head back, cackling like she is having the best fucking time of her life at the expense of whomever Eva is talking about.

I want to know what they are on about because I had asked Eva to be quiet while driving her down here, and surprisingly, she was and it was complete torture.

I wanted to hear her voice. I wanted her to prod me with her words, but she gave me what I asked for, not what I wanted. I slit my eyes, and I look around to see if Paul will make an entrance.

I saw him go in and then leave in a hurry, his phone to his ear and his steps like he was late for something. I was tempted to get out of the car and continue from where I had left off, but I know better. I have made too many crazy decisions the past week; I can’t stand to make another.

Eva leans in to kiss Gloria goodbye, and Gloria waves at her as she strides toward the car. I sit straight, clear my throat and try to plead my heart to quiet the fuck down.

She opens the passenger seat and climbs in, my heart leaping at the closeness like some dog playing fetch.

“Eva,” I clear my throat. “How was…”

“Fabio,” she straps her seatbelt on. “Fine.”

“I was asking about your lectures,” I needed to start a conversation or risk another drive home with her keeping quiet. I hadn’t meant to get her to shut up all morning around me.

“I know, fine,” she shrugs.

“About this morning…”

“This morning?” She laughs, harder than I have ever heard Gloria do. Her head falls to the side as she sneers at me. “This morning?”

“I didn’t mean to shut you up like that,” I go ahead to make my case regardless of the sneer darting at me.

“You regret having sex with me, don’t you?” She scoffs.

“I do not regret having sex with you,” I grit. I cannot regret having sex with her. I regret nothing, and maybe that is where the problem lies. That I am trying so hard to feel guilty, to feel bad, but the core part of my heart feels fucking good that it happened, and it was me who got to have her first.

It’s a shameless thing to think of, but behind my cloud of guilt, it’s the truth lurking.

“I don’t care anymore, Fabio. I am exhausted from having to play this ‘want, don’t want’ game with you,” she leans back to drop her bag on the backseat. “You can do whatever you want with yourself, but please, try not to confuse me.”

“Eva, I do not regret having sex with you.”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” she snaps. “It doesn’t feel that way,” she throws her hands in the air. “God, I hate you,” she sniffs. “I hate you so much, Fabio,” she brushes her hands through her hair and deflates with a deep breath.

That makes two of us.

“I am sorry.” It’s all I can squeeze out of my throat.

“Of course,” she nods. “Drive, please. Get me home so I can get away from you as soon as possible,” she folds her arms across her chest. “I should request for someone else to keep watch over me but I can’t because my father will ask questions, and I don’t have answers to offer,” she looks outside the window. “This shouldn’t be so hard,” she tilts her head so she is facing my profile.

I crush the steering wheel, thinking to myself why it seems so fucking difficult.

Why can I no longer make sense of the reason I had told myself it was best for her to stay away? Why is everything blurring out, and the only thing that seems to make sense is her? Why? How is she doing it?

I let go of the steering wheel and face her.

“Come,” I undo her seatbelt, but she stays put, sneering at me, “Eva, please,” I flip my hand to call her to myself, but she rotates her eyes and sucks on her teeth.

“Get me home,” she spurts.

I reach for her, but she slaps my hand away. It doesn’t stop me, neither does she stop at that. She keeps trying to slap my hands away. I find hold on to her face and I kiss her.

---