Page 132 of Invisible String
I wave to the guys and step outside the office. Johnny, my bodyguard, waits for me, leaning against the wall. I’ve grown to enjoy Johnny trailing behind me. We have become friends. He sits at the café, and I offer him something to eat or drink. He pulls books out from the shelves and reads while waiting for my shift to end. I’ve learned that he’s married and has two daughters, who are younger than five. He pulled out a photo, beaming with pride at his family. Gary is sweet but a little shy. He’s mainly guarding at night, so I don’t see him much.
Johnny pushes off the wall. “It’s about time,” he groans. “My back was hurting, and I was getting worried you killed him and tried to bury his body somewhere,” he jokes.
He’d waited for me outside of Andrews’s office, and when I walked out, I was livid. Johnny was so close to beating the shit out of Andrew. I’ve come to realize he’s incredibly loyal. He even offered to beat up Max on my behalf. I laughed and said he’s a professional boxer. He said, “I’m ex-military and trained in self-defense.”
“We’re good.” It’s better than good. I still feel him all over me. It’s been so long since I’ve had sex, and my body is humming.
He nods. “The boss texted me and wants me to drive you instead of tailing behind you.”
I side-eye him as he pushes the double doors open. The fresh April air hits my face like a soft caress. Spring has always been one of my favorites.
“Why? Has something happened? Have you seen anything suspicious?” I’ve been so oblivious I haven’t paid much attention. It’s been weeks, and nothing. I really do believe he moved on and gave up on threatening Max.
“No, it’s been quiet. It’s a little too quiet for a crime organization of that size to be moving on. Often, that’s how they operate. They wait until you’re not suspecting them.”
That’s good and bad. I really wish they would leave us alone. “Okay, so what’s the reason? Max didn’t tell me any of this.”
“Your driving.” We stand next to my car.
“What’s wrong with my driving?”
He raises a brow like saying, really?
When I don’t answer, he says, “You’re a hazard. Max asked how your driving was when I trailed behind you. I told him the truth.” He shrugs. “You almost took out a lady in a parking lot.”
I blow air out of my cheeks. “Fine, starting tomorrow, you can pick me up. I feel like a princess or pop star having a bodyguard and a chauffeur. Max is getting out of hand.”
He snorts. “Get used to it because once Max fights his first pro fight, everyone is going to be gunning for him. He’s a damn good fighter. Once the world sees how skilled he is,”—he whistles—“he’s going to be the next golden boy. Knowing Max, he’s going to want to keep you safe from his threats.”
We both drive off in separate cars, Johnny trailing behind me. His words stay rooted in my head.Threats.I’m not worried about myself, but for him—his health is too important. Too many hits can be dangerous, but regardless, I’ll always support him. Then there’s another problem I have to deal with—my father. How dare he give Max money to keep him away from me? I won’t see him today, but I will once I cool off. He needs to stopmeddling in my business. Max is mine, and I’m not letting him go because he feels he’s not good enough for me.
My eyes widenwhen we drive up to Max’s house. He lives about ten minutes from mine. The house is a vast two-story house. There are numerous trees and rose bushes in the front yard. Daisy barks on my lap, excited to be at her other home. Max steps out of the car to open the door for me. He smells so good, freshly showered. I have fallen so deep. I craved his touch the entire car ride. His hand was on my thigh, making heat rush between my legs.
“You have a beautiful home,” I tell him, and I haven’t even stepped inside.
He bestows me with a dazzling smile, teeth and all. “Thank you.”
Daisy runs to the door. When he opens it, her footsteps echo on the tiled pathway, as she rushes in. My gaze roams the home. My eyes wander around the house, taking in the details. In the expansive living room, a sprawling sectional sofa, upholstered in rich, dark leather-brown fabric, dominates the space. It wraps around a sleek glass coffee table that gleams under the overhead lights. My attention shifts to the enormous flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, casting a faint glow across the room. We walk into the kitchen, and I gasp. My jaw is completely unhinged.
Holy shit.
This kitchen is a baker’s paradise. At its center is a massive island, its surface a flawless expanse of polished marble thatgleams under the light. Perfect for rolling dough and with ample space for prep and cooking. Drawers line each side of the island, offering ample storage for all manner of utensils and baking tools. Dominating the opposite wall is a state-of-the-art stainless steel gas range, eight powerful burners, and a double oven, complete with a versatile griddle. This setup is perfect for creating culinary masterpieces.
“Do you like it?” he asks, scrutinizing me.
I’m so jealous.
“It’s beautiful. Wow! You scored on this house with this kitchen. The owners before remodeled it to perfection.”
Max rubs his nape. “Thanks, glad you like it. I just had it remodeled. The guys finished last week.”
No wonder it looks new, like no one has cooked in here.
“What was wrong with it before?”
“Nothing. It just needed to be updated to fit my girlfriend’s needs.”
A gazillion emotions shower through me, causing butterflies to erupt.
