Page 19 of Guarded

I let out a sigh of relief as Nero pulls into the back of the hotel parking garage. I’m off the bike as soon as the engine stops, removing the helmet but keeping the flannel tied at my waist. Moisture gathers in my panties.

I don’t look at him. I’m mad at him, but I’m also pretty sure he knows what I was doing behind him. Something about the way his eyes darken. I can’t face this man. Not when my hormones were acting up.

Instead, I keep walking down the hall to the back staff elevator, so I don’t have to look him in the eyes. His long legs catch up to me, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him. To stare into the dark void in his eyes. With his face this close to me, I can see all the small details of his face. Every small wrinkle, beauty mark, and freckle.

“We’re not done talking about this, “ he growls, his tone low and husky.

His lips are inches from mine. My heart races and my stomach hardens as he explores my eyes. His eyes drop briefly to my lips before releasing me.

Retreating to the corner, I wrap my arms around myself. Guapo begins barking, and Nero releases him from the sling. He runs right up to me, and I pick him up. He licks my cheek, and I let out a relieved sigh.

Nero presses the buttons and curses to himself. The ride up to the penthouse is silent. When we get to the penthouse, I head straight to my room. Rough hands grab my arm. Stopping, I keep my eyes forward, refusing to face him.

“You will not be going back there ever again.” He says behind me.

“Yes, Sir,” I grumble.

He releases my arm, the weight of his stare heavy on my back as I stomp to my room. Once Guapo and I are safe inside, I slam the door shut.

I stay shut in my room for the rest of the evening. Settling for a Quest bar for dinner. Guapo’s been good at using the litter box, so I don’t have to worry about him as I lay on my bed and go through my emails.

Last week, I convinced my Tio Enrique to let me teach an aerobics class at Calavera Hotels. I created a signup sheet and placed flyers in the staff breakroom, the hotel gym, and anywhere else I thought I could encourage people to sign up. I didn’t expect everyone to sign up for my newsletter, but I figured that with a QR code, I’d have more than two people sign up.

I resist the urge to hang my head over it. It’s better than nothing. The shower starts in the room adjacent to mine while I play around with a few designs on Canva to promote my aerobics class. I read up on some homework for my certification before pulling out my Certified Trainer Budget list.

Becoming a trainer wasn’t expensive, but it was also not in my budget, considering Axel convinced my parents to cut me off from my trust fund.

He said, “Let her learn to live off what she makes.”

By the way, that was not much, considering I was way too bougie for that budget. Food, Netflix, the internet, my hair, nails, makeup, and clothes were expensive. I have no money because I like to shop when I am stressed. And I am stressed because I have no money. It’s an endless cycle.

Not to mention, I’ve already lost several outfits from Nero’s freak bleaching accident the other day. My favorite dresses and skirts were amongst those who were lost beyond repair.

If I wanted to fulfill my dream of becoming a certified trainer, I would have to be more frugal.

My heart still breaks when I think about the day I told my parents I wanted to be a certified trainer.

“That’s not a real career.” My mother said.

“Mija, you should look into something more sustainable,” my father agreed.

“!Que ridiculo!” My Tia Ponciana had exclaimed after my mother told everyone about it like it was some kind of joke.

Everything I did or said was a joke to my family. I was desperate to prove myself to them, even if it meant swapping pictures of my feet to get Guapo’s haircut.

I keep replaying all the times my Tia Ponciana had pissed me off. She was Axel’s godmother, and it was fitting because they were both sociopaths. My Tio Enrique was also my godfather, and well, I can see the similarities between us.

He was the one to encouraged me to lead the workout class. By encourage me, I mean he said,

“Haz lo que tu quieras.Just make sure you have the inventory reports done by Friday.”

To others, Enrique was too much to handle, maybe even a slight bit rude. He was like Gordon Ramsey in that asshole but efficient way. I liked that about him.

I’m still reviewing my personal budget list when I catch a glimpse of something fluttering toward the light of my iPad. I had been working in the dark, so Nero would assume I was sleeping and not ask me about the whole feet thing.

I jump off the bed when the little wings flutter back to my tablet. I throw the tablet onto my comforter and rush to turn on the light. Guapo starts barking aggressively. I take off my fluffy pink slipper and throw it at the disgusting beast. This only causes it to come closer. I close my eyes, but I tense when I feel something touch my face.

The second time I feel it touch me, I can’t help but let out a loud, shrilling scream. I’m still screaming for my life when the door flies open. When I open my eyes and see Nero standing there, I launch toward him—wrapping my arms around him and burying my face into his chest.

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