Page 5 of My Damaged Protector

“Fine, name your price.”

He looks at me like I've lost my mind, but he doesn't say anything.

He takes a couple more gulps of his beer, leaving the bottle with little content.

I can't have him take another bottle.

What is he even doing in my town?

“So what do you say?” I prompt him.

He glances at me and shrugs.

“What do you want to know?” he asks.

I internally smile, grateful for the turn of events.

While I did come into the bar to pick a man's brain for my new book, I had no idea I was going to meet someone as intriguing as Ian. The night couldn't have gone any better.

I need to get him out of the bar, though.

“Take a walk with me?”

“Yeah.” He nods, beckoning the bartender for a glass of water. I watch him gulp down the water, wanting more than anything to be what he's drinking.

Okay!

Naughty thoughts. Pump down the brakes, will you?

This has to be strictly platonic, nothing more.

He slams the glass down and asks the bartender if he owes any money. The guy shakes his head and tries to offer him some change, but Ian waves him off.

As we walk out, I notice that his step doesn't appear intoxicated. If anything, he looks like he's not had a single drink.

He's way ahead of me, so I catch up with him, pass him, and start to lead the way to the nearest coffee shop. We can sit there and discuss.

As we get to the road that leads to the center of the town, I take a turn and cross it, looking behind me to see if Ian is still following. He is. By the time I'm looking forward, I am in the middle of the road with a trailer truck coming out of nowhere toward me.

I look around for the quickest escape from the situation, but there's nothing, unless, by some sheer luck, the driver stops driving. Fear keeps me rooted in one spot, my basic human instincts buried deep within. In just ten seconds, the trailer willhit me, and I ready myself for it, thinking of the many people my death would affect.

Soon, the trailer pushes me off the road, its weight on me crushing. But I can still feel every part of my body, with only a little pain registering.

Chancing one of my eyes open, I come to the realization that I am indeed on the ground, but I haven't been hit. Ian is on top of me. It would appear that he has saved my life again.

A searing pain spreads through my back, and a groan escapes me, drawing Ian's attention. He quickly stands up and helps me to my feet, his hand holding my back while a few people start to clap for him.

Typical Glazer Ville behavior. Soon, the town will be buzzing about his heroic action.

I groan again, and he looks at me in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks me.

I should be asking him that. What was he thinking, getting in front of a truck to save me?

But I don't have it in me to argue, so instead, I just nod and start to remove my body from his embrace. I am now suddenly aware of how close our bodies are. His hold on me tightens.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

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