Page 51 of The Bodyguard Affair
Everything numbs and fades around me. The crowd, the stadium. It’s only silence. His fresh-showered, minty scent enveloping me. His lips, pillowy smooth against my skin, sending littlesparks cascading down my spine, unhitching my insides. No one has ever kissed me on the forehead like that—like they were claiming me.
If you were to play it back in real time, it’s probably just a quick dusting. A terse kiss for the duration of a blink in front of everyone for show. An act, like we agreed upon. So why did it just tilt my whole world?
We kissed back in Squamish and acted couply at lunch the other day. But I’ve never entirely lost myself. I’ve never lost sight of what it really was, even if it felt like something more.
Just be cool. He’s doing this as a favor, as a friend, I remind myself as he ushers me to our seats.
You wouldn’t know it. Not when he smiles at me like this, so big it practically splits his face. His gaze roams over my T-shirt and denim shorts. It’s probably the most casual I’ve ever dressed in front of him, aside from my PJs. “You look beautiful.” His voice is so low, I’m not certain anyone could have heard it, aside from maybe the people in the row behind us.
“Thank you. You look great. I was starting to forget what you looked like out of a suit. What’s with the bag?” I ask, nodding toward the comically large IKEA shopping bag at our feet. “Security barely let me bring my purse in.”
“You said your favorite thing was to hang out at home with snacks and a blanket.” He proceeds to pull a soft, fluffy blanket out of the bag, followed by what appears to be the entire contents of the snack aisle at a gas station. All varieties of chips, chocolate bars, and candy, including licorice allsorts. “I may or may not have bribed the security guard with candy to let me bring it in.”
Holy shit. “You brought licorice allsorts? I thought you said they taste like depression, but with sprinkles.”
“I stand by it. But you said they were your favorite, so who am I to deprive you?”
I am officially a Popsicle melting in the sun. “You really didn’t have to do all this. Honestly, I don’t expect anything but for you to show up—”
He spares a glance at each person milling about behind us, some of whom are most definitely looking at us, probably wondering why the hell we’re here instead of Eric and Gretchen, before leaning in. “Andi, if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I don’t do things half-assed.”
“No?”
“Nope. If I’m going to be your boyfriend for the summer, I’m going to do it right,” he declares.
Warmth flares in my chest, lighting me up in long-forgotten, dusty corners of my mind that haven’t been activated…ever. “You’re definitely doing a good job. Is everyone still staring at us?” I whisper, the awareness of our surroundings creeping back.
He angles himself to the crowd of senior staffers behind us. “Yup. Still staring, which is a good thing. The more they talk about us, the less they’ll talk about you and Eric.”
His reminder is the only thing that keeps me from sinking low in my seat. He’s right, after all. And I use it as the perfect excuse to take his hand, shift my knees toward him, and let myself imagine this is all real. Like I’m one of those women in my books with a doting partner, someone thoughtful and kind.
“Did you play sports? As a kid?” I ask as we watch the players warm up on the field.
“Yup. Not football, though. Played pretty much everything else. Mostly hockey. Not that I could afford to play in a regular league. I played a lot of road hockey and for school teams,” he explains.
“I’m guessing you’re a Sens fan?” I ask.
“Like every Ottawa native should be. You?”
I laugh. “I don’t really follow hockey. But if I did, I’d probably cheer for the Leafs, I guess, being from Toronto.”
He gives a low headshake. “And there it is.”
“What?”
“The flaw in our relationship.”
I slap his knee. “Hey! If anything, it shows I’m loyal during times of adversity.”
“Perpetually optimistic, too,” he adds.
“This year could be their year. You never know.”
He snorts. “Leafs fans have been saying that for a century now. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I knew you had hockey vibes the night we met.”
“What gave it away?”
