Page 12 of The Bodyguard Affair
“You’re right about that,” she says with a shrug. “That’s why I brought you back. I kind of figured you’d be good at it.”
“Ah. And you don’t think so anymore?” I tease.
“Oh, no. I think you’d be amazing at it. Me, on the other hand—”
She furrows her brow, stressed all over again. So I place myhand on her forearm and give her a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Andi. Let’s just enjoy the moment.”
“Thanks for being so…nice tonight,” she says, laying her head back, eyes to the ceiling, hands folded over her stomach.
“Well, I did walk in on you in the bathroom. I had some making up to do,” I remind her. “Like I said, probably a top-ten worst thing I’ve ever done.”
“Now I need to know what other nine things are on this list,” she demands, a wry smile creeping over her face.
“What I’m about to admit might shock you.”
She leans closer. “I’m ready to be shocked.”
I pause for dramatic emphasis. “When I was seven, I cut a girl’s braid off in class because she kept whipping me with it.”
She barks out a laugh. “That’s…terrible.”
“Told you. Okay, your turn. Worst thing you’ve ever done.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “When I was eighteen, I scraped the side of my stepdad’s fancy car in a drive-thru and lied, saying it was my sister, Amanda, who did it. She’d just gotten her learner’s permit, so it was believable. It was, like, a thousand dollars’ worth of repairs.”
“Shit. Do they know it was you now?”
She laughs guiltily. “No, actually. I never told them.”
We go back and forth, trading confessions into the darkness. They get progressively more serious and also hilarious. She tells me about how she accidentally dated a guy in high school when she was in university. “When I was in fourth-year university, I met this guy at Bulk Barn. We went for the same sour gummies. He looked my age, or at least I assumed. We exchanged numbers and he asked to pick me up for a date that night. And he did. On his bicycle. He asked me to get on the handlebars. I don’t knowwhy, but I did. It was just too awkward to say no and I thought maybe he was just environmentally conscious. That should have been my first clue. I finally figured out he was a senior in high school when he used his high school student card to get us a discount at the restaurant. Needless to say, there was no second date.”
We both laugh until we’re doubled over in bed, clutching our stomachs. After I get the chance to recover from that one, I decide to confess something serious.
“All right, last one. I just found out my mom, who I barely have a relationship with, was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease—a disease that affects her brain, causing memory loss, personality changes, and overall cognitive decline. And I’m about to leave on tour. Tomorrow. For at least six months.”
I hold my breath, but I’m met with silence. Nothingness. Shit. I’ve taken this too far. Andi thinks I’m a complete and total asshole. And she would be 100 percent correct. Who the hell leaves their sick mother for six months, even if she wasn’t exactly mother of the year?
I sit up and brave a glance, only to realize Andi is not harshly judging me. At least, it doesn’t look like it. She’s on her back, head tilted slightly to the side, clutching her cheesecake fork to her chest. Her breathing is slow, heavy, and consistent. She’s…asleep.
Thank fuck.
It might have felt comfortable confessing that in the moment, but in hindsight, it’s probably for the best she didn’t hear it.
I stay for a couple more moments, waiting to see if she’ll wake up. But she doesn’t. I consider my options. I could stay, butit feels wrong to sleep here without explicit permission. Besides, after seeing how uncomfortable she was about hooking up, I don’t want to embarrass her even more, or make things awkward tomorrow morning once the alcohol wears off.
Maybe it’s best I just go on my merry way. Before leaving, I make sure to refrigerate the rest of her cheesecake and give Lars another piece of cheese. I also finish assembling her desk, which takes all of five minutes.
The last thing I do is write a quick message on a sticky note and leave it on the desk.
I put your cheesecake in the fridge!
—N
PS. You should ask your landlord about fixing the lock on your sliding door.
Chapter 3
Andi
