Page 43 of Passenger Princess

“It was plenty funny,” he grumbles, and I reach over again to rub his arm.

“All right, all right, big guy. You’re right. It was plenty funny.”

We drive in silence for a bit, the navigation the only sound to be heard, before I get up the courage to break the silence.

“So what about you? Do you date?” I ask, suddenly shy to even ask that, which is so out of my nature. “It sounds like your job is pretty unpredictable, and you’re alwayson. It must be hard to date or have a relationship.” I look over to catch him shaking his head, eyes stoically on the road.

“This job can’t have distractions.” It sounds like a line he’s told himself many times before, and for a moment, I wonder if he means it.

“Distractions? Like, say, pretty passenger princesses whose ass you can’t stop staring at?” I ask with a smile.

“Exactly.”

“I bet we could be a fun distraction, you know.” It’s my normal MO to flirt just to watch him blush, but I didn't get the blush this time.

Instead, I just get his honesty.

“Ava, you’re a distraction of the worst variety.”

“Doesn’t sound like too much of a bad thing.”

He finally looks at me for just a moment and gives me a smile, shaking his head, before diverting his attention back to the road.

“I’ve been in this game a long time, Ava. I’ve seen guards come and go, men and women who think this job is easy, think it’s just watching over entitled people and playing cops and robbers. Distractions are what get people hurt.”

That makes sense, even if it makes the tiniest of disappointed rocks settle in my tummy. I ignore it.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“What you do. Bodyguarding.”

He hesitates a moment longer than acceptable, indicating the answer isn’t fullyyes, but also not fully no. He’s…conflicted.

“It’s a fun job. I get to travel the world and get paid to do so. When I’m assigned to Atlas Oaks, when they’re on tour, I get to hang out with a bunch of guys who have become my friends. That’s pretty awesome.”

“Not a bad gig, I’m learning.” I’m shocked when he smilesagain, like he maybe, possibly finds me endearing.

“But…” I say, carrying out the word and waiting for him to fill in the gaps.

He sighs. “But this job isn’t forever.” For a moment, he looks shocked to have said it out loud, like he didn’t mean to admit it. Then he continues, I’m assuming because he’s already halfway there. “My boss—my old boss—he sold the company almost a year ago, and he had some really great benefits that would set in in about three years, which is when I could retire early. The new boss gave me this assignment and implied that if things didn’t go how he wanted, with it ending in securing a contract with the organization, I might not be around to see those benefits.”

My mouth drops open. “Oh, my god, he threatened to kill you!?”

“Jesus, no. Just potentially letting me go, I guess?” Well, that's less dire, I suppose.

“So this is like…a trial run?”

“I guess that’s what you could call it.”

I cringe, turning to look at him, suddenly apologetic. “And I’m making that harder?”

“I mean…not specifically.”

"But I'm not making iteasier," I say, scrunching my face up. He doesn't answer, so I ask him a new question. “What do you want to do when you retire?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he says with a grin, and it makes me smile, too.

---