Page 30 of Don’t Fall For A Bodyguard

“Same goes for you.”

Suddenly, all the ‘what ifs’ filled my head. What were we doing? Could this really work?

Bad enough we’d married each other, and now we’d gone and made everything even more confusing by having sex. Did he really want me for me, or was he reacting to the chaos of the past twenty-four hours?

He gently squeezed my waist, and I shook my head.

“I think I should go back to the spare bedroom,” I admitted, my stomach clenched tight. “I need time to think about this.”

“You do what you feel is right. In your heart,” Lennie replied, placing a hand over my chest.

There was no denying how fast my heart was racing or the reason why. I placed my hand over his and we stared at each other. Fuck, I didn’t want him to stop touching me. But I needed a moment to catch my breath. To think. Too often, I was impulsive—hello Vegas wedding—and it led nowhere good. The last thing I needed was a messy situationship, one that spilled over into my work life. And his.

It’s Lennie. He wouldn’t do that. You’re just scared.

“Take the time you need. I’m not going anywhere,” Lennie added, his eyes never leaving mine.

I nodded and reluctantly slid off him, off the bed, reaching for my pants. It was difficult to move, never mind speak.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Angel? I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated.

I turned to face him. “I understand. And I’m sorry.”

Lennie shook his head and smiled at me.

“Nothing to be sorry about. I have no regrets when it comes to you. None.”

That was the ironic part. I didn’t want to cause him any. And yet, I still walked out of his bedroom.

What was worse? I didn’t look back.

Sleep eventually came, but hours later, and not for long.

My phone alarm sounded at eight. I rolled over, and my first thought was, ‘where’s Lennie?’, then I realized that I was in the wrong bed. And with the early morning light came the realization that, yet again, I’d fucked up.

Only, it wasn’t marrying Len. It was pushing him away last night.

My phone pinged with a reminder about our appointment with Elias. About the divorce. Shit. My stomach was one giant knot.

Mechanically, I forced myself to get up and headed for the bathroom. After taking a long, hot shower, I slowly got dressed. Nothing flashy today. Black jeans, a grey silk blouse, and patent booties. It felt like I was dressing for a funeral. I guess the death of a marriage qualified. Even one that never existed to begin with.

But unlike our wedding, I recalled every single detail from last night. I touched my bare lips, still swollen, and smiled when I thought about kissing Len. There was passion and heat, notto mention a million butterflies. And the way he looked at me? Despite my fears, I knew it was special.

Maybe not anymore. Not after I left him lying there.

My heart took off running and my stomach dropped out. Leaning over the sink, I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Lennie was so protective, possessive even, and yet, when I wanted to leave, he was gentle, like he knew if he pushed, I’d run faster and farther. He knew. He fucking knew me. That was the scariest revelation of all.

I reached for my makeup bag and began to do my face, the routine a necessary tonic for my nerves. Concealer—given the dark circles under my eyes—and touch of blush, and mascara. I’d save the lip gloss for after breakfast. That is, if I could eat.

It was going to be hella awkward when I walked down those stairs.

Grow up, Payton.

I’d had plenty of one-night stands. It was just sex. Then I looked at my reflection, at the lovesick expression on my face.

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