“It’s not trivial,” Farrow says, swiveling the knob to hisradio.
“What do youmean?”
“What you feel, what’s important to you—it’s not trivial,” he clarifies and sits half on the desk, casually stuffing his hands in his black pantspockets.
I can’t unglue my feet from the middle of the room. “I’m not ashamed of my number, but if you learn about all of this—I don’t want it to affect ourrelationship.”
“It won’t,” he says strongly. “I promise you, Maximoff. I don’t give a flying shit about your number or who you’ve fucked. I’ve never judged anyone for being promiscuous.” He shrugs. “It’s a personal choice, and that’s your business, notmine.”
“Exactly.”
He rolls his eyes and stands off the desk. “Unless this psychotic dickhole is someone you enraged after fucking them, then it becomes mybusiness.”
“I’m not an asshole,” I say, my chest tight. “I’d like to believe I treated all of my one-night stands withrespect.”
“I know.” His voice is almost awhisper.
I crack my knuckles. “I always thought about how every hookup had to sign NDAs and jump through hoops to sleep with me. To protectme.” I look up at Farrow. “And I always thoughtwho’s protecting them?And I knew, I fucking knew, that it was my job to protect the people I had sex with. I had to care or else it felt like my life meant more than theirs because I’m famous. And that’s justbullshit.”
Farrow stares deeply. “And now I just want to protect the fuck out of you ten timesmore.”
I lick my lips, knowing that I need to let go of control. I need help, and I need him. If I create a roadblock, then I’ll lose Farrow as my bodyguard. He’d probably quit his job before he failed me—and maybe he’s been struggling with thatidea.
Maybe he still will. But I have to make it easier onhim.
So I say, “I’m okay withthat.”
Farrow closes the distance between us before I unfreeze. I hold the back of his neck, and he clasps my jaw, his hand affectionate and forceful. I hear our heavybreaths.
His brown eyes melt against my forest-green, and he says, “I’m really,reallyin love with you, and whatever happens, keeping you safe is mypriority.”
“Samehere.”
He begins to smile. “You’re going to keep mesafe?”
“Yeah.” I nod heartily. “No one’s fucking withyou.”
“They’re not fucking with me because I’m not the famous one,” he says. “And unfortunately for you, it’s my job to jump in front a bullet that’s aimed for yourhead.”
I grimace. “Thanks for reminding me.” We eye each other’s lips, a half-second from kissing, and then my phone rings. I pull away. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Farrow leaves my side to pick up his oatmeal, finallyeating.
I take the call. “Hey?”
“Moffy, can you come into the gift store downstairs?” Sulli whispers softly. “Please? Fuck, this is sohard.”
I already start grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a crew-neck shirt. “I’ll be rightthere.”
15
FARROW KEENE
Irestmy ass partially on a table of folded Cavaliers shirts. “Why the phone call?” I ask Akara and Donnelly. We hang out at the gift shop’sentrance.
Our clients talk towards the back. Near a rack of keychains and souvenir mugs. And in my peripheral, I clearly see Beckett eating Wendy’s fries, Maximoff unwrapping his chicken biscuit, and Sulli speaking too quietly tohear.
Akara wears a backwards baseball cap and bounces a rubber ball. “She said she’s having a hard time picking out a souvenir for her littlesister.”