Page 81 of South Beach Bodyguards

“You. Being cute.”

His mouth fell open and he turned to give me a suspicious glare. “I am not cute. That’s ridiculous.”

“I think you’re cute. And you’re very pretty. Has anyone ever told you that?” I felt much more at ease the more uncomfortable he grew. He was practically squirming in his seat.

“No,” he said flatly.

“Liar.” I echoed his earlier words. “I did. The night we met. By the way, I could drive you know. I’m not sure how safe it is for the man with the bullet wound to be driving.”

“I’m fine.”

Of course he was. He was also stubborn. I wouldn’t know anything about that. “Do you ever let anyone help you?”

“I agreed to let you bandage my arm and trust me, that is a huge concession for me.”

Wester’s apartment was in an area I wasn’t familiar with. Since I had moved to Miami I had learned the areas around school like Coral Gables and Coconut Grove, as well as understanding where the trendy areas like South Beach and Brickell were, but this was all low houses, cheap restaurants, and worn out hair salons. “Did you grow up here?” I asked, staring out the window curiously.

“No.”

That was that apparently. “How do you know Benito?”

“We lived in the same apartment complex.”

He pulled into a parking lot. The building itself wasn’t that different from my own. Stucco, low roof, scrubby landscaping. “How long have you lived here?”

“Two years.”

Wester turned the car off. Then turned to me. “If you want to get to know me, where I live won’t tell you anything other than the fact that I’m broke.”

It seemed as if I’d hit a nerve. Whether that was because I had brought up Benito or not, I didn’t know. “Of course it tells me something. It tells me yes, that maybe you’re not exactly flush in cash, but there are a lot of neighborhoods that are affordable. Why did you choose this one?”

“Because it’s close to the strip club.” He shoved his door open.

I didn’t believe him for one second. Maybe there was a strip club around. That wouldn’t necessarily surprise me. But his voice was too flat, too annoyed for that statement to be the truth. He wanted to distract me. Offend me. Get me to drop the subject. That meant there was a story there, one I wanted to hear. I would let it go for now. He opened my door and I smiled up at him. “You are quite the gentleman.”

That made him frown again. “Just get out of the car.”

I did, but when he reached into the back and grabbed my bag I said, “See? Gentleman.”

His nostrils flared. “Stop it, Olivia.”

“Stop what? Thanking you?” He was definitely rattled. I loved it. It was about time the tables were turned.

“You’re making fun of me.”

That made me laugh as I followed him up the walk, taking my bag from him. “I am not. I’m complimenting you. Expressing gratitude.”

“I can think of a better way you can express your gratitude.”

His tone made my breath catch. I looked at him under my eyelashes. “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

Wester didn’t answer, but jogged up the exterior stair and stopped at the third door. 2C. The number was crooked. I reached out and straightened it. It fell crooked again.

He opened the door and gestured for me to step inside. “You know exactly what I mean.”

The door yawned open and illuminated a dark small room. All I could see in the dim light was a hulking TV. He had his blinds closed. “Your timing is incredibly creepy,” I said. “I feel like I’m stepping into the devil’s lair.”

“Nah. He would have better furniture.” Wester reached around me and flicked on the overhead light.

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