Page 8 of Don’t Fall For A Bodyguard

I held my left hand out and everyone oohed and awed.

Faise whistled. “Shit, Payton, it’s even bigger than the picture.”

“That’s what he said,” Ronin chuckled.

Faise gave his fianc a playful shove.

Lennie sighed and turned to me. “Can we go back upstairs and have breakfast in our room?”

“No way!” Dawson called out. “We need to hearallabout last night.”

“If you can remember any of it,” Valen chuckled.

Then he walked up to us and gave Lennie a side hug and did the same to me.

“You be good to my friend, eh?” Valen stated and pointed to me. “Don’t break his heart. Just his box spring.”

Poor Lennie turned bright red.

“You have nothing to worry about,” I assured him.

Lennie didn’t love me, so there was no chance of me breaking anything, least of all his heart.

Regan, the head of security, stepped up beside us, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Only you, Payton.”

“What?” I stared at Regan, trying my best to look innocent.

“Lennie, a word,” she demanded.

Regan and Lennie moved away from the group as they began talking in whispered tones.

“So, are we gonna eat now or what?” Brodie suddenly asked and everyone turned to stare. “Hello? I’m fucking hungover and in desperate need of food. Don’t tell me I’m the only one.”

“No, but the rest of us are too polite to say anything,” Van teased his husband.

Once Regan and Lennie were done talking, they joined us, and we all filed into the restaurant. The place was already brimming with guests, and we were guided by the host to a private room. Patrons pulled their phones out when they spotted the band, but thankfully, no one made a bigger deal than taking pictures.

Once we were seated at our table, the server took our drink orders, double espressos all around. Jesse, the band’s manager, joined us last, looking more rested than the rest of us. Jesse was a former rocker himself, but he had a style that was more suited to a boardroom; short hair, dark-framed glasses, and always a button down, trousers, and suspenders. Then you noticed the copious tattoos on his forearms and hands, and the realization hit that he wassonota suit.

As the minutes ticked by, more memories from last night filtered through my brain. But the wedding itself was still murky. I recalled being in a room with soft music and the rainfall of glittery confetti, but not much else. Just a feeling. A moment of pure happiness, the kind of bubbly elation when everything aligns.

Speaking of bubbly, when the servers returned with our coffee, they also brought several bottles of champagne.

“Dee, you shouldn’t—” Lennie started, but the lead singer shook his head.

“No matter the occasion, we always celebrate stuff as a family,” Brodie interrupted.

“But—”

“No matter.”

There was no changing Brodie’s mind, so I squeezed Lennie’s thigh. “It’s okay.”

Instead of pulling my hand away, I left it there. And oddly enough, Len placed his much larger hand over mine, interlocking our fingers. I should’ve felt guilty. Lennie and I weren’t really married, so what the hell were we celebrating?

I glanced up and noticed Valen staring at us intently from across the table. But I refused to let go of Lennie’s hand. This time,Iwas protective ofhim. And when Valen winked at me, I got the same unsettled feeling that I did when I woke up this morning.

This marriage was going to be a hell of a lot more complicated than I first thought.

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