Page 33 of Chalk Outline
“Nope.”
I shake my head, pressing my forearms to the door above her. “Unlike your mouth, your body never lies to me.” I push my knee between her legs gently, forcing them apart, but not really; she opens them willingly for me. “Maybe it’s time to learn another rule.”
“Oh, please no,” she goads, her fake breathy tone making the corners of my mouth curl into a grin.
Goddammit, Winona.
She’s so fucking perfect.
“Okay.” I nod. “Rule number two: Never be predictable.”
With every step she takes, I’m there.
I’m still her bodyguard, even from feet or miles away.
She doesn’t know that it’s me.
She knows nothing at all.
And it hurts my heart more than being forced to walk away.
She will always be a part of me, burning through my veins.
The unrivaled roar building in my chest could demolish this entire forest. I pant and inhale the cool air with each step, bringing us closer to the edge.
There you go, birthday girl,“ I say as I set the beer bottles and shots of tequila in front of her. We sit in a corner booth of an old bar, I enjoy visiting for some peace. “Iris” plays softly in the background. “How does it feel to be twenty-one?”
“Great,” she says, and I can hear the sarcasm in her tone from miles away. “Now I just need to get laid. You know, I’m still a virgin—because of you.” She gives me that sassy stare she makes when proving a point.
“Sex is overrated—”
“Say one more word, and I will knock your bike,” she warns, grinding her teeth, but I find it too amusing to hold back my laughter. She immediately flashes one of her adorable smiles at me, which makes her nose crinkle, as if she’s on a mission to break me out of old habits. And I admire that about her.
Now that she’s old enough and trained, I wonder what she will do with me. I remember the promise her Grandma made two years ago. It’s been haunting me since. Curious, I run the pad of my finger over the rim of the bottle. “I know you’ve waited for this day, so… are you going to keep me?” I try really hard not to make any expressions.
“What do you do with all this sexual frustration? I mean, you can’t have sex all the time, working for my Grandma, watching over me twenty-four-seven.” She avoids the question entirely.
Grunting, I twist my face and down the shot.
She mimics me and downs the shot I got her, peeling her lip in disgust once it’s over. “Ugh. At least if I can’t have sex, I can live vicariously through you. How often do you do it?”
“None of your business.” I don’t. I look away at the couple across from me, drinking beer and kissing, as if they’ve left their worries somewhere far away for the night. A part of me wishes for that, even though it seems out of reach for a man like me.
Maybe this is my life, being so close but so far away from all the things I really want.
My desire for a real connection is at the bottom of my priorities. I want it to consume me like she consumes me. But she’s off-limits.
I knew the moment I signed the contract. Her name was written in bold, uppercase letters, highlighted in red, telling me I couldn’t have her. She’s the boss’s granddaughter. She’s my job, and I’m responsible for her safety. No matter how much I crave her, she is out of the question.
I just didn’t expect her to crawl inside my heart and carve her name on it. I should’ve known better.
“Come on, you know everything about me. Don’t I get to know a little about you?”
It’s not her burden to carry. She is too precious, and I want her to stay that way. Curious, carefree, and safe to do whatever she wants. It’s my past, not hers.
In my peripheral vision, Winona places her hand on the table, closer to where my hand rests, unmoving. I flick my gaze back to hers. “You are my job. I’m not your job,” I reply. Instead of pulling it away, I keep my hand right there to torture myself a little more.
“You’re my friend…” she murmurs, her fingers drawing circles that slowly prickle every cell in my body. “I know thatsome girls who pretend to be nice to me do that to get closer to you.”
