Page 222 of Sinful Desires
That kiss. That night.
The video had gone viral in under an hour. The world decided we were theirs.
They had given us a name—StarGuard.
The tweets had gone crazy that night.
Scarlett Harper bagged a military-grade bodyguard with cheekbones sharp enough to cut me in half.How do I unsubscribe from this life.
The way he never smiles but looks at her like he’d kill the sun if it hurt her???? Yeah I’m sick.
Her dress.His hand on her waist.The tension.I’m sweating.Someone write the Wattpad version immediately!!!!
I don’t know who needs to hear this but I would risk it all for StarGuard.That kiss?? Oscars who??
StarGuard isn’t just a ship, it’s a lifestyle.A religion.A federal problem.
If he looked at me like that I’d PASS AWAY immediately.
Scarlett babe you won.lock him down.breed him.I SAID WHAT I SAID.
They weren’t supposed to fall in love and that’s EXACTLY why they did.someone chain me to the nearest wall because I can’t take this.
Literally on my knees for them!!!!!
She read them all to me on the way back to New York. Every tweet, every headline, every unhinged declaration of obsession.
The fucked-up thing about the internet? One day, they were dragging your corpse through the dirt. The next, they were licking your wounds and asking for a piece of you.
Her friend had even made an announcement on stage that night. Oscar in hand, spotlight glaring, the world hanging on his voice.
Said he was in love with a man. Matthew. His fiancé.
Never thought he had it in him.
Scarlett watched the videos on repeat, crying like the world had cracked open from joy.
Hours later, we’d packed what was left of our things and boarded the jet.
Somewhere over the ocean, I asked where she wanted to go.
She didn’t meet my stare right away. Her eyes were soft, almost shy.
“I want to go back to France. Where we stayed.”
My shoulders tensed. Pressure slid up my spine and bloomed behind my ribs.
She reached over and touched my hand. It instantly stopped climbing. That slow, sick panic flattening into something warm.
I nodded once, then called Captain Pascal and told him to prepare everything for us.
And when we landed, it was waiting.
Same villa. Same view.
She padded barefoot through the living room, the glass walls casting the sea in blue light. It was early morning; the sun was just starting to rise. We’d slept a little on the jet, but the jetlag still clung to our skin.
“I love it so much,” she said, sighing softly. “The view, the house. It’s so lovely.”
