Page 118 of Headstrong Like Us
Farrow glances to his left, then back to me. His concern tighter on me. “He touch you?!”
I lick my lips, almost smiling. I don’t know…it feels good that he cares. Not a lot of people really do when it comes to unwanted hands on me. “No, I’m okay!”
He checks me out, then nods.
To avoid shouting more, I lean into Farrow, and his hand caresses the back of my head—Christ.Blood pools south, throbbing me. I say against his ear, “I just don’t know who hired the strippers.”
His jaw skims my jaw as he replies. “Security found out already. Some random dipshits online ordered them.”
My brother was right.
It wouldn’t be hard for fans to figure out which bar we’re at in Key West and send the strippers here.
“Are you all staying?” I ask Farrow.
He gives me a slow-burning once-over. “You want me to?”
I lift a shoulder. “Sort of.”
“Sort of,” he repeats with a laugh. “I ‘sort of’ want to stay too.” He uses air quotes and then rests a hand on my waist. “If that’s okay—”
“Yeah,” I say way too fast.Goddammit.
He grins like I just orgasmed from his hand. He lifts his brows in a teasing wave, and my eyes betray me and growl out a,kiss me, man.
He sucks in a breath. “Can’t, wolf scout. Sorry.” He’s being serious, by the way. Farrow has been drinking tonight, and he’s respectful of my sobriety.
“Can’t what?” My brows knot, and I play hard to get and back off. I dance with my brother as a new song plays.
Farrow rolls his eyes, but don’t let my bodyguard fool you. His gaze is super-glued to me. Omega bodyguards and my family all end up moving to the beat and clapping together.
And I realize SFO might be considered “off-duty” but they’re all in protection mode. Even as they dance, they create this perimeter around me and my sister, brother, and cousins.
I stay close to Xander while we bob to the music, and a throng of incoming girls bounces towards Xander, about to shimmy up against him. Effortlessly, Donnelly sideslips behind Xander, and like he’s wing-manning my brother, he dances with the girls and uses the rhythm to guide them away from our area.
It’s not just that one instance or even just Donnelly.
The coy, almost unseen protection happens around us with other SFO bodyguards and my family—and this is one of the many times that I’m just really damn happy they’re here.
They don’t have to care about us.
They don’t even have to shield us right now. Their friend is one of the grooms. Easily, they could be shit-faced plastered, and I wouldn’t fault them. But they’re choosing this. To keep us safe.
Luna does a “grocery checkout” dance move. I look down and wish I hadn’t.
I cringe at Farrow. And I’m rigid, more protective of my sister.
He frowns.
I lean into him and say, “I just saw my sister’s thong.”
He laughs hard, amusement behind his brown eyes.
Her thong sticks out of low-rise jeans. Pants seem hot in the humid Florida summer. That’s what I’m thinking about, just to wash the image from my brain. I know the jeans are purposeful. She hasn’t shown off her tattoo yet, in fear of our dad’s reaction.
“Slut!” a guy yells at my sister.
My eyes narrow.
