Page 26 of Unruly Obsession
The man's eyes light up as he smiles, confused. “And you’re too good for a place like this.” But he holds out his hand. “I’m Aaron.”
“Oh, looks like we have a bodyguard in the building, folks. Jesus, man, what do you press?” the comedian asks, and part of the crowd turns to Lorenzo. I try to hide my smile as I peek through my eyelashes.
“Is that your boyfriend?” the comedian asks.
I take a sip of the drink, immediately regretting it because it doesn’t taste anything like what I ordered. I slide the glass to the side, with no intention of finishing the drink.
“No,” I reply, not able to keep the venom from that singular word.
“Ah, the quiet type, eh? I suppose focus either has to go to the brawn or the brain, yeah?” the comedian shouts back at Lorenzo.My bottom lip wobbles, and I try my hardest not to laugh. It’s so ridiculous that it’s hilarious.
Lorenzo leans against the wall, folding his arms over his chest and glaring between Aaron and me. His irritation gives me satisfaction. “Ooooh, too good for the shitty chairs, right?” the comedian calls out. “I mean, there are more than enough of them available. Thanks for not selling out tonight!” A few waves of laughter rumble through the crowd. “But what can you do?” He casually shrugs. “We don’t all have muscles like Mr. Terminator. This is the only way I get laid! Something about the funny man, you know? But it’s a hit or miss. Sometimes I get my dick out, and they’re unimpressed. To be fair, I get it. I’ve got a small dick, but I make up for it in enthusiasm. On a good night, though, they’re just as drunk as I am and think it’s a good idea to suck it. Well, you know, for the thirty seconds it lasts.”
My nose scrunches up. The comedian is crude, but I embrace it for the experience it is. It might be a little dusty and, well… tacky, but I think about all the people who come here simply to laugh. To feel free from the pressures of their day-to-day life. And I laugh at the next joke. Not because I think it’s particularly funny, but because I need to get rid of all of this nervous, pent-up frustration and uncertainty.
Because if I don’t, I’ll cry.
But already, being in this run-down room with a bunch of strangers, I feel lighter. I laugh harder at the next joke.
I’m conscious of Lorenzo behind me. It’s hard not to be affected by his presence, but eventually, I fall into an ease with the crowd, laughing on cue and talking with Aaron. Instead of thinking about what or who I have to be tomorrow, I imagine what it’s like to simply be a stranger in Manhattan, losing myself amongst the crowd, and Aaron seems like the perfect distraction. He’s reasonably attractive and seems nice so far.
I’m not a little bubble-wrapped princess, and I certainly won’t let Lorenzo keep jabbing me over the fact that he rejected me, because the reality is, as they say, there’s plenty of fish in the sea. And that asshole, no matter how beautiful, needs to be reminded that he’s not God's gift to women. Even when it looks like he was carved by the gods themselves.
11
LORENZO
Exercising restraint is not easy for me, but I’ll do so when it’s necessary. So it’s certainly hard not killing the man who's sitting beside Lily, laughing with her and stealing small pockets of conversation between sets. Every time he glances her way, I think of all the creative ways I can remove this motherfucker permanently, then his gaze naturally gravitates to me, and he sits upright, staring at the front, terrified. Good. He’s no more than a fucking weasel.
I’m a reasonable man, perhaps even more so than my boss, but while she’s under my care, I take any threat or leering gaze seriously.
The problem with someone like Lily Taylor in a place like this is she attracts attention, even when she thinks she’s shrinking into the shadows. She’s not made for the darkness—she shines too fucking brightly.
Everyone sees her and feels her light as she walks into a room, and in a sad, sorry place like this, she is undoubtedly attracting attention. Two bartenders whisper to one another, looking in her direction. Not that she notices. I step into their line of sight, and the moment they see me, their conversationdies and they make themselves busy. My jaw tics. She’s too fucking beautiful for a run-down joint full of riffraff and people who are beneath her.
I move back into position against the wall, arms crossed, unimpressed. Then I glare at every fucker who dares to even glance at her.
Then there’s the matter of dealing withherafter this little stunt. I know she’s doing it intentionally, trying to make a point.
Lily's laugh grabs my attention as she wipes away tears, chuckling to herself.
She's too beautiful.
Too innocent.
I don’t often empathize with those involved in my missions, and it’s not like I’ve been a bodyguard for many other than Luca, but I meant everything I said to her. Her safetyismy priority. She might think this little stunt of bringing me in here is cute, but she’ll learn the hard way what my persistence looks like. She’ll only wear herself out with these antics.
The comedian makes another joke, I’m certain at my expense, but I don’t acknowledge him, continuing to watch Lily as her shoulders ever so slightly loosen over the evening. It increases my vigilance because I want her to enjoy this moment, and if she lets her guard down, then I’ll be the fangs at her back.
That is, until the little fucker sitting beside her has the audacity to place his hand on her arm. I’m across the room in two long strides.
“Get up,” I growl at him, and I’m certain the fucker shits his pants on the spot.
Lily’s mouth drops open before she grits out, “It’s fine,Lorenzo.”
“It’s notfine,”I reply as I stare down at the man I’m two seconds away from aiming my gun at. Bouncers hover at thedoor, but they seem to have the good sense not to fuck with me. It’s highly likely one of them might even know who I am.
“There are literally so many other chairs,” the dickhead is ballsy enough to say.
