Page 36 of Protector

“I’ve got eyes, Shay.”

I fold my arms and play along. “Yeah…and what do you see?”

“Well…” She takes a piece of my hair and runs it between her fingers. “A beautiful, sweet, young woman who’s going through a rough time.” I open my mouth to say something, and her expression stops me before she continues. “And a very strong and capable bodyguard who’s way too easy on the eyes to not be attracted to.” Catherine laughs.

I shake my head. “How ridiculously obvious am I?”

“I know you, so to me, enough.” She quickly glances to the door, then back to me. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling. And I have an idea he’s…let’s just say not making it easy on you.”

Finally, I grin, a sense of relief coming over me. I don’t know how she does it.

“I know these guys. I’m married to one. They’re going to fight the good fight, Shay. They’re good guys, and he won’t risk your safety.”

“You’re a very smart woman, Catherine. But your powers of observation are not a solution.”

“Oh, you want a solution?” She throws her hands up exaggeratively. “All I can say is that if and when the time is right, I hope things work out the way you want. Until then, listen to Brooks, stay safe, and go be the amazing Shay the viewers are waiting for.” She taps my knee and stands; I do the same.

Holding her arms out to me, she doesn’t have to wait long before I go into them.

“Are we good…for now at least?” she says, pulling back.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Arm and arm, we walk out of the room and down the hall. Catherine sticks by for moral support as the crew shoots a few clips of me doing random things like cooking, working on my computer, doing side interviews, and then the completely made-up scenario they have planned with Rio where we’re on the couch, talking shop and looking at his portfolio. That was actually the small change I fought for. They originally wanted us looking at mine, but I insisted we flip it to his. Now the interactions between Rio and me are about him, and I’m giving him some advice about a potential assignment, which is actually real.

Once we wrap up, I do a video post for my followers and wait for the crew to clear out. Catherine and Rio are the last to leave, and I can tell she’s making sure I’m fine with the obviously lingering Rio, who heads to my living room.

Leaning back against my brown leather couch, Rio hikes a foot over the dark wood, antique chest that is my makeshift coffee table. Immediately, he pulls it down, his face twisting. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“It’s really okay. I don’t mind.” I lean back, too, but turn slightly so I’m facing him. If I’m being honest, I was glad to have him here today and miss the fun times we’ve had both professionally and personally. But at this moment, when I catch the dark stare of his eyes, I feel more platonic comfort than anything.

Rio smiles. “I’m really happy for you. The show…everything you’re doing…you’re really making it happen.”

I shrug. “Hey, you’re not doing too bad yourself, Mr.GQcover.”

One side of his mouth curves up, and he lays a hand on my thigh, low enough I don’t acknowledge it. “I also wanted to say thanks…for agreeing to let me be a part of it. I’m sure you weren’t too happy about it.”

Placing my hand over his, I say, “You know, I actually am.”

“Really?” His brows lift.

“Yeah.” I move my hand, and he does too. “It was stupid that whole…” I roll my eyes then look across the room. “Whatever it was we were doing.” I look back at him when he doesn’t respond. “I just want to move forward—” His wide grin, his body drawing near mine, has me correcting. “Well, forward back to friends.”

Rio chuckles, leans forward, and touches my chin. “You sure? Come on, we were pretty great together, don’t you think?”

I can’t help but smile because he does have a point, but I’ve got a stronger one. “I like us better as friends, Rio. I hope you understand.”

Just as he’s giving me a half-hearted “yeah,” my phone pings with a text. When I rush to grab it off the coffee table, a little piece of me feels annoyed that I’m so anxious for any word from Brooks. Then a boulder hits the pit of my stomach when I read it:

Unknown: I never liked that asshat, Rio. Don’t get too close…

I obviously stared at it longer than necessary, and somehow, I’d missed what Rio was saying. His hand on my back pulls me back to his presence.

“Shay, what is it?”

I shake my head. “It’s…nothing.”

“Bullshit. You’re white as a ghost.” Then he pulls the phone from my hand. “What the fuck?” Still holding my cell, he peers at me with wide eyes. “What’s going on? Who is this, and why the hell are they talking about me? If this is that fucking Cal, I’ll—”

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