Page 46 of Flirtatious

The blue and green neon light in the window of the check cashing place distracts me, and I trip over the curb. I catch myself just before I hit the ground, my adrenaline coursing through me at the first taste of real freedom in weeks. I look down the street and wonder for the briefest moment where it will take me, but I don’t care.

Anywhere is fine.

“Mia, get back here!” he yells, but I’m off running down the sidewalk in my flip flops.

Not exactly the best shoes for running, but I didn’t exactly plan to be sprinting tonight. I turn around and see the car’s headlights off. Of course, he turned the car off before chasing after me. That’s so Liam. Always so worried about safety. My mother has insurance, dude. If someone takes her SUV while you’re trying to catch me and take me back to that gorgeous prison of mine, she can just get another one.

“Mia! Stop!” he barks, but I’m half a block ahead of him and freer than I’ve ever felt in my life.

The warm spring night air rushes by me, cooling my already red-hot cheeks, flustered from running from a dead start. I’ll have to remember to tell Mitchell how far I ran. He’s always after me to do more cardio, but after hours of practice with Tiffany every day, I’m in no mood to get on that treadmill he so loves or any of the other machines in the gym he worships like gleaming metal gods.

Weaving between the smattering of people walking on the sidewalk with me, I see a woman with blond hair point but I’m gone as fast as I was there. A couple quickly steps out of the way as I barrel toward them, and as I pass, I hear the woman say my name.

I feel Liam behind me before I even hear his feet hitting the pavement. Is he wearing his shoes? Of course, he is. He’s in his work clothes because this is work for him.

Who runs in shoes like those? Hell, even my flip flops are better for running than his work shoes. That’s what you get for insisting on coming with me, baby. Keep up or I might slip away and then what will you tell my other jailers?

“Mia, stop this! I’m not going to tackle you to get you to come back to the car.”

With a glance behind me, I see he’s only a few feet away. In a second or two, he’ll be able to reach out and grab me. I turn my head and a second later, I feel the hardness of his arm wrap around my body, pulling me against his chest.

“Stop this, Mia,” he says in my ear.

I shake my head and try to push him away, but he won’t budge. He’s like a giant crushing me against him.

“Let go of me! If you don’t let go, I’ll scream. Those people know who I am.”

“Then they’ll call the cops and they’ll find out I’m your bodyguard who is doing the job he’s been hired for. Now stop trying to get away and come back to the car with me.”

Thrashing my head left and right, I try to escape, but he tightens his hold on me even more. “You’re going to crush me. Let me go! I won’t run.”

He doesn’t loosen his hold and laughs. “Yes, you will. I learned that the hard way.”

I know what he’s referring to, and it isn’t this moment right now. Whatever. He doesn’t know or doesn’t care how I feel, so he can go fuck himself.

“Let me go, Liam. You can’t keep me trapped like this.”

For the first time, I turn my head and focus on his expression as he stares down at me. Why does it seem like there’s hurt in his eyes? What the hell could he be hurting about? I didn’t do anything to him.

“I’m not trying to trap you, and I’m not trying to be your jailer, Mia.”

His face is so close, and as much as I hate myself for even thinking of kissing him, that’s all I want to do. “Well, you’re both.”

“Promise me you won’t run.”

“You mean like you did after you kissed me? That kind of running, Liam?”

I feel his hold loosen, finally, but I don’t run. I need to hear him say something to me about what I just asked him.

But he doesn’t speak. He merely hangs his head and sighs. Was kissing me so much of a burden that it requires a sigh like he’s just had the weight of the world set on his shoulders?

He takes a step back from me and shakes his head. “I didn’t run after you kissed me. It should have never happened, so I left before even more happened.”

“Why? Why shouldn’t it have happened? Don’t you like me, Liam?”

I hate that my voice sounds like I’m some sad, pathetic thing. Why do I want to cry when I get frustrated? I want to be tough and strong like other people are when they’re angry, but it’s always the water works with me every time.

Liam simply looks sad, like he doesn’t know what to say or how to make me stop asking him questions he doesn’t want to answer. “It’s not like that, Mia.”

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