Page 10 of Another Round
The flush on her cheeks burns brighter with shame from the reminder of her mistake, and her interest intensifies in the green and tan benches lining the asphalt rather than focusing on me or my accusation. But surprisingly no argument or rebuttal. Not yet anyway, so I keep going. “I totally respect you wanting to defend your friend, but couldn’t you have done something that didn’t end with you getting the hell beat out of you?”
Now she huffs. Her irritation building. “It was just one punch.”
Barely able to hear her murmured words through the breeze with her head turned in the other direction, I can still make out her lame retort. As if almost damaging her vision isn’t that big of a deal. That marring her gorgeous face was worth the revenge she exacted. “That probably would have cracked your eye socket if Theo hadn’t tackled him before he could have done worse.”
She flinches from the exasperation in my tone and finally looks at me. Well, actually glares at me. Her own resentment forcing her to stop running and start battling. Another damn stand-off with our bodies straining only a few inches from each other. “He deserved to be punished. He’s probably cheated before and humiliating him like that will remind him for his entire life that he fucked up hurting someone I love and thinking he could get away with it.”
Yep, she’s totally her father. And totally misguided and reckless and incredible. I can see why Nick’s terrified of this tiny inferno who genuinely believes she can own this damn world and everyone in it.
Including me.
Especially me.
I shake my head from that extremely disgusting and inappropriate thought that came out of nowhere but won’t seem to leave. Not with her staring up at me, wordlessly imploring me to understand her reasons. Begging me to recognize her devotion to her friend. Pleading with me to accept her for who she is. “I hope she appreciates the loyalty.”
With six simple words, I let her know that I do.
“She does.” Hunched shoulders drop back down, and a bittersweet smile smooths away the torment creasing her face. “Except she feels really bad about him hitting me and won’t stop apologizing.”
“Because she knows as much as you do how idiotic your scheme was.” A curt nod confirms I’ve punished her enough. She gets it. At least a little. So I let her off the hook. “Besides I thought you girls drowned your sorrows over arseholes by eating ice cream out of the carton and burning their photos and stuff like that.”
“Um no, because we’re not twelve.”
No, you certainly aren’t. Definitely not lazy either. Making me smile as she laughs from my generational ignorance and cringe as she starts jogging again. I thought I was off the hook after our conversation stalled our run, and we’d just walk back home. Guess not. I fall in place next to her like I’m not fucking dying with my previously loose leg muscles now tight, squeezing and throbbing in resistance to their new psychotic drill sergeant. “Tomorrow we’re lifting, not running.”
“That’s perfect. I like mixing it up and doing something different every day.”
She’s gorgeous with her enthusiasm. And, cruel with her excitement when she sprints off. Unaware her elation is going to fucking kill me.
I’m a liar.
And a creeper.
And a damn psycho stalker.
I check on her and text to him. That should be enough. But for some unfathomable reason it’s not.
For the third time today, I watch her. Panning the camera down and to the right, I twist the knob to zoom in on her. Telling myself that I’m just monitoring her like her father’s paying me a hell of a lot of money to do. Instead of leaving her alone like I should be doing since I know she’s not in any danger. Breaking me as I study her because what I suspected is true.
She’s lonely.
She’s not crying, which isn’t a surprise since she doesn’t seem like the overly emotional type. Not that I really know her that well after having only met her forty-eight hours ago. But she’s obviously dejected, sitting on her sofa with the soles of her feet grazing over and over the round edge of the coffee table while she stares at nothing.
Unlike earlier when she video chatted with her mum and Marta. The housekeeper looking more frail than I remember or expected. Maybe that’s why Evie’s smile seemed so forced and tight despite her cheerful tone.
Or the second time I checked when she was texting Theo and videoing with her friend, while some stupid looking reality show blared in the background. Damn if she doesn’t know how to multi-task. Her smile was strained then too.
A far cry from Friday night when, to my pleasant surprise, we genuinely had fun grocery shopping. I enjoyed myself keeping her company while she picked out a bedspread and other bits and bobs for her apartment. She put up with me playing coach when we lifted on Saturday morning. I thought everything was fine until I didn’t see her anymore after we returned from the gym.
Which is good. Great really. Better than great. We don’t need to spend every minute together. I’m her bodyguard, not her friend. She’s my client, not my problem. Unless she’s in danger and clearly she’s not.
It’s actually better this way. Her in her apartment. Me in mine. Each of us doing our own thing. Minding our own damn business. Focusing on our own issues.
Then why the fuck am I so worried?
Because after only two days, the gorgeous grin is gone. Vanished along with her spirit and enthusiasm. Which isn’t my concern. Except that it does concern me a hell of a lot. And, it shouldn’t. She shouldn’t.
I tap the button and hop up before the screen fades to black. Welcoming her disappearing from my view and my mind so I can ignore the uneasiness I’m not used to feeling. Hide from the facts I’m not willing to face.
