Page 17 of Protecting Bianca

I pulled out a pair of black leggings and a long white shirt. It was loose, so I grabbed an oversized black belt and tied it around my waist.

There. That should be good.

We were only going bowling, anyway. I’d known Stewart for most of my life. He was my brother’s friend in elementary and high school, but only recently asked me out. I would normally say no, but I was trying to push myself more—get out of my comfort zone. My job was hectic with events. I was always chatting with people, meeting with vendors and clients, and I usually preferred a quiet night on my own. But my brother was worried about me, so I promised I’d go out a few times with Stewart.

Speaking of the devil, I found my brother on the worn out couch in our living room. He twisted his body to look at me when I walked past him to the kitchen.

“Didn’t you wear that on your last date?” he asked, running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

I shook my head as I opened the fridge. “Nope. I wore gray tights last time and no belt.”

“Look, I don’t know much about fashion, but maybe Lizzie can help you out.”

“I don’t need help with fashion, River. I’m just not prioritizing my wardrobe right now. I have what I need for work and I’ll make do with everything else.”

He sighed. “I don’t understand. You can stay with me for as long as you want. I’m not kicking you out.”

Smiling, I walked over to my brother and ruffled his hair. Although he was older by only eighteen months, he constantly took it upon himself to take care of me. “I appreciate you letting me stay here until I can get back on my feet…” I paused as I remembered the reason I’d left home and mentally shut the door on the memory. “But I don’t think I can take your loud parties for much longer.” I smiled, but he saw through it.

“I love you, kid. You don’t have to ever leave.”

A lump grew in my throat, and I had a hard time swallowing. I wrapped my arms around his neck while he sat on the couch and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I love you, too.”

He squirmed. “All right, all right. I think you’re choking me.”

I rubbed my cheek next to his just to piss him off as I knew he wasn’t keen on physical touch, but I also knew as much as he pushed me out of my comfort zone, I would do the same for him.

We both grew up with the same parents, but dealt with our upbringing differently. We each had our emotional scars, but they weren’t the same.

He glanced at his phone. “Hey, what are you still doing here? Wasn’t Stewart supposed to pick you up at 7:30?”

“Yeah. He texted a little while ago to say he’d be late.”

As though on cue, the doorbell rang.

Shit. “That must be him. Do you mind answering the door? I just want to finish my makeup and need a few more minutes.”

He eyed the door wearily. “Yeah. Sure. Just don’t let the man wait too long.”

I waved him off and jogged to the bathroom. I heard some muffled sounds behind the closed door, but focused on applying my red lipstick. Puckering a couple of times in front of the mirror, I ensured that I’d applied it evenly, and that there was no lipstick on my teeth. Red was not a forgiving color.

With one last check in the mirror, I opened the door and walked toward the living room.

“Sorry for being early. When I saw there were no cars in your driveway, I figured your company had left.”

That deep and raspy voice.

I would recognize it anywhere.

What the hell was Jager doing here?

My body moved toward him before my mind even processed, taking the first step.

He turned at the movement. “Bianca?” His eyes widened as he took me in from head to toe as though I were an apparition instead of a woman. “What are you doing here?”

I raised my eyebrow. “I should be asking you that question. I live here.”

“You do?”

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