Page 46 of The Bodyguard Situation

“I’ll go easy on you this time.”

He smirks like he knows exactly what I imagined, and for once, I’m grateful for him seeing me. Really seeing me.

“I actually dare you to give me one truth,” I say, moving back in front of him on the floor. “No bullshit. No smart-ass comment. I just want one real thing about you nobody else knows. Our secret.”

The smirk slides off his face because he realizes I played an Uno Reverse card. I know he’s fearless when it comes to tasks, but not when it comes to talking. For a second, I think he’ll dodge me and give me that cocky smoke screen he uses when things get too real. But Brody tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling, like he’s looking for help, but there’s nothing there to save him.

When he finally speaks, his voice is rough around the edges. “When I really care about someone, it scares the hell out of me because I know exactly what it’d feel like to lose them.”

The words hit harder than I was ready for, knocking the air right out of my lungs. I don’t say anything. I don’t joke or offer some lame expression about time healing all wounds. I brush my fingers lightly against his, a silentI hear youhe doesn’t have to earn. For a long moment, we sit there as the soft hum of the ceiling fan fills the room.

I could kiss him so easily right now. It would take nothing. I could lean a little closer, place one hand on his cheek, and capture his mouth. We could forget the rest of the world exists. But I don’t. Because some part of me knows, if I cross that line, there’s no going back.

Instead, I give him a soft smile before I stand. Brody watches me with an unreadable expression as I reach my hand out to him. He takes it, and I pretend to pull him up, but—let’s be real—I did nothing.

Without another word, I scoop up the dice and place them in his hand with a crooked smile.

“Come on, Calloway,” I say lightly. “Let’s see what your next roll would’ve been.”

He rolls the dice and gets double threes. His mouth curves up into a smile.

“So close,” he says with a smirk. “Next time, you’re fucked.”

“Promise?” I shoot back with a wink, and he shakes his head, laughing under his breath like he doesn’t know what to do with me.

The late afternoon closes in around us, and the air in the cabin grows cooler as the house gets quieter. I stretch my arms over my head, yawning, the last of the adrenaline from our games draining out of me.

Brody leads me outside, and we sit on the porch swing and wait for sunset in silence. I like that I don’t have to say anything when I’m with him, especially if I have no words to share. He understands, appreciates silence, and strives for it.

The day fades away and afterward he makes us fancy sandwiches with oven-baked fries for dinner. When we’re finished eating, I rinse our dishes even though he insists.

Brody drops onto the couch like his bones have finally given up on him. His legs hang awkwardly over the armrest, boots planted on the floor because he’s too damn tall for it. He tries to get comfortable, shifting around, folding one arm behind his head like it doesn’t bother him, but I know better.

I hover in the kitchen for a second, chewing the inside of my cheek, before moving to the back of the couch and leaning over it.

“Hey,” I whisper to him.

Brody cracks one eye open, looking at me like he’s bracing himself for whatever I’ll say. I shift my weight between my feet, instantly feeling weirdly awkward.

“You can sleep in the bed, you know.”

Both of his brows go up. “That a dare or an invitation?”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Calloway. It’s logistics. You’re gonna fold yourself in half on that couch like a damn lawn chair. If you’re to protect me, you have to be at your very best. No more of this.” I wait for a few long seconds. “Join me?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but just stares at me, weighing his options.

I cross my arms and arch a brow. “Unless you’re too scared? You’d be the first Calloway to be a fucking chicken.”

That gets to him. He mutters something under his breath, pushes up off the couch, and follows me down the short hall toward the bedroom, grumbling the whole way.

Before we reach the doorway, he pauses, his voice low and gruff. “You have to stay on your side, Harp.”

I flash him a grin over my shoulder, and he knows this is trouble.

“I can’t make any promises.”

Brody exhales slowly, like he already knows he’s lost whatever game we’re playing, but he follows behind me anyway. And just like that, the line between what we are and what we’re pretending to be blurs just a little more.

---