Page 20 of The Bodyguard

“Pretending,” he whispers.

I look at him, and he smirks as his hand falls away, and I don’t actually know what to say. What to do. So I pick up my drink, realise I’ve finished it, and order another one.

“I’ll get that.”

“I can buy my own drinks.”

“We’re supposed to be on the cusp of a blossoming new relationship, remember?”

“Will you please stop calling it that.”

“Calling it what?”

“A blossoming new relationship. And I’m very much aware of what we’re supposed to be on the cusp of, but what’s any of that got to do with you buying me drinks?”

“You really are frustratingly stubborn.”

“Get used to it.”

“I thought we were going to try to get along a little better? For the sake of the plan.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Is this because I kissed you?”

He’s still smirking, and I throw my head back and sigh, but I’m smiling. And I don’t want to, I tried not to, but I failed. “No.”

“Look, I’m just moving this thing along, that’s all. It’s my job. I’m supposed to be trying to get close to you, and if you keep pushing me away…”

“I’m not pushing you away.” I sigh again – something I appear to have been doing a lot of lately – and breathe out, getting rid of some of that pent-up frustration that’s been building for days now. “I’m just – I’m finding this really hard. And I know I said we need to try and get along, try and make this work, but, I don’t want another relationship…”

“Thereisno relationship. It’s pretend. Remember that, and this will get a whole lot easier.”

My eyes meet his, and I can’t help rolling mine. Something else I seem to have been doing a lot of lately. Eye-rolling. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I do. And just for the record, I’m not exactly looking for romance, either.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Someone hurt you, too?”

He glances around him, and I’m not sure whether he’s doing that because it’s his job to stay alert, or because we’ve just broached a subject he’s not too keen to get into. Yeah, I think he regrets saying what he just said, that was way too personal for him. He knows that was something I didn’t need, or even want to know, yet, he said it.

“You don’t seem to have a lot of close friends.”

Okay. Now we’re changing the subject. Fair enough. “You’ve already worked that out, huh?”

His face breaks into a slow smile, I think he’s hoping I won’t back-pedal on what we were talking about before. And I won’t, because, you know, I’m really not that interested.

“I’m guessing you don’t let too many people get too close?”

“Not too many people, no.”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

I feel my skin start to prickle, I’m not comfortable having this conversation, not with him.

“I should go home. I’ve got a breakfast meeting in the morning.” I grab my bag from the bar and slide it up onto my shoulder.

“We’re in the same boat here, Lena.”

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