Page 41 of South Beach Bodyguards

Then without warning there were tears in my eyes, damn it. I glanced away, out at the water, but it was too late. He’d seen me. He looked horrified.

Absolutely horrified.

I winced, wishing I had a little more Julia in me. The reality was, I didn’t. She was made up, a myth, the result of booze and apparently last night a conk on the head. I debated making up some stupid excuse about having something in my eye or allergies but I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t have to say I was upset out loud but I didn’t want to deny it either. Maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe that was me changing the rules on him or putting my shit onto him. But he’d seen it, so what difference did it make?

“Is.” His voice was sympathetic.

That sound made me struggle to fight harder against the tears. God, anything but sympathy. I wanted anything but that. Because how many steps away from pity was that really?

“Don’t. Please,” I told him, dropping my knees down onto the balcony floor. “You know, I think I’m just going to call my mom. She’s probably worried about me.”

Part of me wanted him to talk me out of it. To coax me back to bed. But he just said, “I’ll get your phone for you. Is it in your purse?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

And with that, we retreated right back to polite.

I practically fucking ran back into the hotel room, desperate to get away from that naked need on Isabel’s face. Man, she was killing me. I wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to promise to fix everything for the rest of fucking forever if she would just lose the trembling lip and watery eyes. But I couldn’t promise her anything because at some point I would betray it. The idea of being with Isabel for real made my skin feel too tight and my lungs constricted.

It wasn’t fair to say it was a mistake, because I didn’t regret it. I didn’t want anyone else touching her. And it had been amazing. I paused for a second, forgetting what the hell I was doing. She had been amazing. No doubt about that. But she wanted more from me. It was written all over that sweet, guileless face. She had walked into this attached already and that was insane. She didn’t know me. She had decided I was a better person than I actually was based on nothing. Because I wasn’t talkative? I didn’t know why she had decided I was worthy. No idea.

But it was making my skin itch and my balls tighten. I couldn’t be the boyfriend she was clearly seeking because I had a messed up view of relationships thanks to my mother. At least I was smart enough to know that.

I dug through her purse and found her phone and went back outside. My own phone was still on the table and had a whole screen full of texts from Mickey. I didn’t want to deal with him. I didn’t want to deal with Isabel either though. Those tears in her eyes made me want to bolt so fast and hard, and yet… I also wanted to scoop her up into my arms and hold her all night.

This hotel room had been a dumb ass idea. Because I was stuck for the duration and that made me hugely uncomfortable. I’d never spent the night with a woman. I’d never spent the night with anyone. Not a friend, not a girlfriend. No grandparents in Miami. Mom and Dad not exactly the cuddle crowd. The thought of sharing a bed for eight hours made me break out in a cold sweat. I wasn’t sure I could have someone breathing on me while I was asleep and totally vulnerable.

“Here’s your phone.” I handed it to her and reached for my beer. My mouth felt hot and not in a good way.

“Thanks.”

I couldn’t look at her. She was only wearing a sundress, no bra. I wondered if she had panties on under that thin fabric. I was going to want to either fuck her again or hug her. I wanted to do both. I shouldn’t do either.

So to distract myself I picked up my phone and read my texts. Mickey was asking me where the hell I was, where the hell Isabel was. How I’d better answer him or he was GPSing my phone since it was company issued.

So he could do whatever the hell he wanted but I couldn’t go off the grid for two hours without the wrath of Mickey? Fuck that.

I texted him back.

**Go away.

Where are you?

Out for dinner with Isabel. Don’t worry about it.

I’m taking this dog back to the house if you don’t come get it.

That annoyed me. Did he mean Kim and Isabel’s house? Glancing over I saw Isabel was on the phone. She was just nodding though, not saying anything. Did I nod when I was talking on the phone? No one could see you nodding. Why would any of us do that? Mickey was in the middle of texting me so I decided to cut him off by just calling him. That would annoy the shit out of him, which was childishly satisfying.

“Are you kidding me?” Mickey said, not bothering with a greeting. “Now you call me?”

“What? I told you I’m busy. What do you need?”

“I’m stuck with this dog, Ryan. I have shit to do. You need to come and pick it up.”

“First thing in the morning,” I told him. “It will be fine.” I saw Isabel out of the corner of my eye and she was chewing her fingernail, phone still at her ear, her nipples pert and visible beneath the thin cotton. God, that was so tempting. She was tempting.

Mickey gave me a perfect out. If I said I’d get the dog I could leave and not come back until right before she woke up. She’d never know that I hadn’t been sleeping next to her half the night. I wouldn’t hurt her feelings and I wouldn’t have to suffer through the weirdness of spooning. I’d heard rumors about spooning. I never wanted to spoon. Ever. I’d had girls try it post-sex and I usually just flipped them onto their back and distracted them. Fuck spooning.

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