Page 133 of Headstrong Like Us
“I’m thinking about that.”
He lifts his brows. “I know, wolf scout.”
I almost smile, and now I’m just thinking how much I love this guy.
“You don’t have to tell your family right away,” he reminds me.
That eases me too.
I nod a couple times.
And I retrace more of tonight, and my pulse skips. “What happened…something you said—you said you’d tell melater?”
He rolls his eyes at whatever he encountered.
My jaw sharpens. “What was it?”
“This will just piss you off—”
“I don’t care.”
He exhales a breath and then shrugs. “Okay.” He tilts his head. “One of the temp bodyguards hit on me.”
“Wait, what?” I narrow my eyes.
Farrow looks irritated about the whole thing. “It was just a verbal come-on, and he’ll be fired—”
“He fucking better be.” Steam is practically blowing out of my ears. “At your—ourbachelor party? Why would he do that? Did he think we’re in an open relationship?”
“I didn’t care enough to ask, honestly.” He smiles. “I wasn’t going to sip hot tea with the fucker.”
I just picture this muscular faceless, no-named bodyguard hitting on my fiancé, my groom,my soon-to-be husband.
Who are all the same fucking person, in case that’s not vitally clear.
“What’s his name?”
Farrow shakes his head. “You’re not torturing yourself with that shit.”
“I’m not asking for a visual. I want to make sure he’s off the team. I’ll talk to Akara.”
“Let me do it, wolf scout. It’s my job.”
I nod, trusting him. I realize too that I’m more famous, so I’ve always been an object of obsession. But the more fame Farrow has, the more he has to deal with these unwanted advances. “You’re okay?” I ask. “He didn’t hurt you?”
He smiles like I’m roaming aimlessly around in Arkansas and he’s in Florida. “No, he didn’t hurt me, and I’m able to fend off bad pickup lines and shit come-ons easy enough. Definitely better than you.”
Annoyance stabs me, my competitive brain screeching. “Yeah?” I want to combat him, but really, I’m not that great at brushing people off, and I’m curious how he does it. “What do you normally say to bad pickup lines?”
He lists off his fingers. “Get out of my face, no—I don’t want to suck your cock. Take a hint. And you must really want a knee in your groin. Then I walk away, every time.”
I picture that. And I don’t know why I’m smiling. I’m trying not to question its existence because I’d rather it stick around.
Farrow suddenly slides off the lounge chair. I see him stand up, and instinctively, I rise to my feet. Almost the same height.
His smile stretches wider and wider. “Will he follow me?” He walks backwards towards the ocean.
I run after him, and in seconds, we’re step for step, splashing into the water. Uncaring about our damn clothes.
