Page 14 of Flirtatious

Does he have a wife? Girlfriend? Maybe that’s why he’s been so cool to me. He has someone back home waiting for him.

Where is home? I thought I heard my mother say to her assistant that he’s from the Tampa area. He probably lives in a nice little house with a pretty blond woman who has long legs and doesn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him. They have a three-bedroom home with one bath and a half bath the previous owner put in, but they like the place and figure it will work until kids come.

Or does he have kids already?

I shake my head and push that thought away. No man with a beautiful wife and little kids would leave that behind to come work for me. The one day a week he has off when I’m not on the road wouldn’t be enough to sustain a relationship, and the weeks and months away from those he loves, even for the amount he’s getting paid, wouldn’t be worth it.

I mean, for God’s sake, it’s not the fucking Depression. A guy like him could find work anywhere.

So no kids, but I bet he has a girlfriend or wife. No guy with a body like that and good looks stays single for long. My gaze travels up and down those faded jeans as he and Javier walk around the grounds.

Maybe he’s a player. A different woman every night of the week.

That thought makes me chuckle. No way this guy is sleeping with a different woman every night. No way, no how. He’s too much a follow the rules type. Those guys are never manwhores. Men like Liam are the steady kind of guys. They don’t sleep around on someone if they care about them.

The way he is may sound boring to a lot of woman, but I can see how it would be really great to have a man like that. I’ve had the other kind, and that made me feel like shit, so maybe it could be nice to have a stable, steady man.

His girlfriend probably knows that, though. She likes how reliable he is and how secure he makes her feel. She’s smart in that way. She likely is intelligent. Beautiful with a good head on her shoulders. I can see him going for someone like that. Not flashy. Just classically beautiful and sweet.

I look over toward the mirror on the far wall and see the last remnants of the purple dye job from a couple months ago peeking out from underneath the disheveled dark brown mess on top of my head that’s the result of not bothering to do anything with my hair this morning. Definitely not classically beautiful. More like startlingly appealing to some men who like their women to look like a cross between Medusa and Lady Gaga.

Liam’s girlfriend definitely looks forward to seeing him when he walks through the door. Why wouldn’t she? I mean, he’s got a great body, and I imagine if he actually likes a person, he could be quite pleasant to be around.

I watch him and Javier stop near that ridiculous plant my mother insisted we have in the garden last year. Big and flashy with bright pink floppy petals that remind me of elephant ears, it looks like a flower that requires constant attention or it will wither away and die. No wonder my mother loved it when the landscaper suggested it.

What does it feel like to have someone to look forward to seeing? I’ve never had that in my life. No one I’ve ever been with made me look forward to seeing them. They were simply always around, and then one day, they weren’t.

Clearly, I’ve never loved anyone, and I doubt anyone’s ever loved me because I don’t think any of the guys I’ve been with could honestly say they looked forward to seeing me. Anticipation isn’t really a thing when you’re going full tilt, twenty-four seven in a relationship.

But that’s lust. That’s not love. I might not have much experience with love, well none actually, but I know what it’s supposed to feel like. I sing about it in practically every song I perform.

Love is supposed to thrill you but comfort you. It’s supposed to make you think the world doesn’t suck, even while it still does way too damn often, because at the end of the day after all is said and done, you have someone who truly cares about your happiness to come home to.

That’s what love is. Not hearts and flowers but the knowledge deep inside that whatever the world throws at you, no matter how bad it gets, you have someone covering your back and worrying if you’re okay or not.

I bet that’s what Liam’s girlfriend feels all the time. It’s the reason she fell in love with him. It certainly couldn’t be because he’s a scintillating conversationalist or someone who makes her laugh all the time. No, it’s because whenever life gets her down, she only has to look behind her to see him watching and making sure no one ever hurts her.

He’s good at that kind of thing. That’s probably why he works as a bodyguard. He said he cares because it’s his job, but I think he protects people because that’s who he is. His girlfriend loves that about him. Everyone loves that about him. A big guy choosing not to be some jackass bully and pushing everyone around but protecting people instead, even when he can crush them like a bug? People love that.

I can see why, though. I mean, the world has way too many oversized asshole guys, so when you come upon someone like Liam, why wouldn’t someone think he’s pretty great?

Assuming they don’t have to deal with his utter disdain every time he’s in front of them.

Lost in my thoughts about his perfect life with the woman he loves, I don’t see him looking up at me until he waves his hand. I focus on him and see no smile. Just a mixture of curiosity and disgust coming off him.

As always.

Sneering, I turn away, partly embarrassed that he caught me staring at him and partly annoyed at this perfect life he gets to return to when he doesn’t have to be here barely tolerating me. His girlfriend probably greets him at the door like some submissive fifties housewife wearing pearls and a dress with her hair perfect.

Whatever. Not everyone can have that life. Some of us got stuck with something very different and don’t get that lovey-dovey welcome every time we come through the door.

Not even from people who are supposed to be happy to see us.

Fuck, I need to get out of this house. I think I’m starting to go stir crazy.

Desperate to find anything to take my mind off my new bodyguard’s perfect life, I head down to the kitchen to find something cool to drink. I might even go lay out near the pool. Doing that alone isn’t pathetic like swimming all by yourself.

Thankfully, my mother and her assistant are nowhere to be found, so I can enjoy a glass of iced tea in peace and quiet. I take a big gulp and let it slide down my throat, loving how it cools everything on its way down. I swear if my mother comes storming in and launches into a lecture about how caffeine can be damaging to the vocal chords, I’m going to douse this entire room in my favorite drink and laugh as she stands there dripping from head to toe in the stuff.

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