Page 105 of South Beach Bodyguards

“You don’t have to justify not staying over, Wester,” I said, resting my chin on his chest and looking up at him. “I’m not offended. I know you’re not exactly Mr. Romantic.”

He frowned at me. “Who said that? You always tell me I am a huge flirt.”

“There is a big difference between picking up women with your charm and being romantic.” The fact that he thought the two were interchangeable was unnerving. Not the same at all.

“I could be romantic if I wanted to be.” He said that like I had accused him of being a wimp again.

“But you don’t want to be romantic.” That was obvious to me. “It’s okay. I didn’t ask you for that.”

“I don’t understand what this conversation is about,” he said. “And it’s killing my mood.”

It was stealing my afterglow, too. I was sorry I had said anything, but now it was too awkward to let it go. “I’m letting you off the hook. I don’t understand why you’re looking annoyed now.” I was bewildered. I was trying to be the cool girl and tell him it didn’t matter. That I was fine with us taking it day by day, and now he was pissed off.

“I’m not looking annoyed.” He stroked the back of my hair. “What are you doing Monday night? Want to go out?”

“I can’t, I have a dinner ceremony to go to. My professor is getting an award. Do you want to go with me?”

I knew what the answer to that would be. His face lost some color and he shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s my scene. I would just distract you.”

“I understand.” I did. I wasn’t going to push him. “I don’t want you to think I am trying to rush things. All I’m really asking is that you never bullshit me. Never lie to me.”

“I would never lie to you.” He grinned. “I do struggle with the bullshit a little, though. It’s my signature move.”

I wasn’t amused. I wasn’t sure what I was. “There are other moves you have that are better.”

He winked at me. “I need to go take a piss before I go.”

Yeah. Mr. Romantic. I rolled over so he could climb out of bed. “What time is it?” I asked. I class at eight. I always hated that Saturday class, but even more so right now.

“I don’t know. My phone is on the nightstand.” He walked across the room naked.

I was momentarily distracted by the sight of him in all his glory. He was so damn gorgeous. Everything was hard. I wanted to slap his ass and start another round. But I forced myself to check the time first. Holy crap, it was already two. I was going to be hurting the next day.

A text popped up Wester’s phone screen. It said Ricardo Davis was the caller.

Eva wants a report on Olivia. Text me when you’re done fucking her.

Everything instantly went black. I literally lost my vision between a wave of red hot anger and dancing dots spinning before my eyes. For a brief second I thought I was going to pass out. Then I thought I was going to throw up. Just lose all the beer and the hot wings I had eaten right onto my nightstand, splashing over Wester’s phone and that text from my brother-in-law.

Ricardo knew he was with me. Ricardo knew we were having sex. Wester came back into the room and I turned, afraid to look at him. Afraid to watch him lie when I confronted him. “What is this?” I asked. “Are you having sex with me on the clock? Is my sister’s husband paying you to fuck me?”

He stopped short at the bottom of the bed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This.” I threw the phone at him. It almost hit him the dick, which was disappointing. “Ricardo wants a report on me after you’re done fucking me.”

He pulled the phone off the mattress where it had fallen and glanced at the screen. “It’s not what you think. Tonight had nothing to do with Ricardo. Though he did request for me to follow you.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

“Because you wouldn’t like it.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.” I was sick to death of Ricardo interfering in my life. “So just tell me yes or no—are you on the clock tonight? Are you planning to bill for this?”

For a second he didn’t say anything. He just stood there and gave me a completely blank stare. His eyes were void of emotion, his expression reserved. Another heartbeat went by and he still didn’t speak.

The lack of a denial screamed confirmation of my suspicions. “Oh, come on!” I yelled. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Was everything from the beginning just a job to you?”

“No, that’s not what it was. It’s complicated. But it’s not what you think.”

---