Page 20 of The Inevitable Us

Turning on the radio, I see Rosalie’s head turn around, watching me briefly through the rear window. She stares for a long moment before turning back around and leaning her head down.

“We’regoinghome,”Ethanmutters to his wife when he catches his first glimpse at Rosalie’s new building. We’re each carrying our first boxes into the foyer. Each bodyguard moves past the front desk without an issue, the concierge barely glimpsing up from his phone as we walk past without being stopped. Anyone could have grabbed a box and walked into the building with it.

“She made the decision herself,” Tessa whispers back as they step into the elevator. “We have to let her figure stuff out.”

Shaking his head, Ethan holds the elevator door as I push a dolly with a stack of cardboard boxes labeled “kitchen goods.” Rosalie is still by her car, pretending to adjust things in the back, eyeing the elevator, waiting for me to go up.

Ethan furrows his brows, an unhappy grimace on his face. “You did bring a new lock, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir. It’s identical to the existing locks, so the other residents won’t notice it as they walk by. We also have longer screws to reinforce the door hinges.”

He nods in approval as we get off on Rosalie’s floor. It’s not exactly a bad apartment per se, but it’s an older building. The cameras are very outdated, and the existing locks need to be replaced since countless people have lived in the loft over the years. Anyone could have a copy of the current key. The loft itself is stunning. A large floor-to-ceiling window takes up much of one wall. Rosalie only sees the view of the city, but I see the room overheating in the summer months. It’ll be cold in the winter and impossible to heat the large space, especially since the windows appear to be original to the building.

With so many sets of hands, we’re able to quickly unpack the boxes before Creekman goes downstairs to the management office tosee about the camera situation.

I deliberately go slow with my work, taking my time in Rosalie’s loft to acquaint myself with it. There’s a balcony, but no exterior fire escapes. Rosalie, Ethan, and Tessa unpack the boxes together while I install the front door’s security camera. Before screwing in the last plastic ring, I show Ethan the feed on my phone. “It’s up and running. I’ll make sure Rosalie has the logins.”

He nods in approval and goes back into the bathroom, pressing the button on the smoke detectors to ensure they work on his way. As soon as his back is turned, I cut the wire to the camera, deactivating the feed. Rosalie apparently dislikes them and will never tell Ethan it’s not working if she even figures it out herself.

Tessa is looking at the freshly made bed, her hands on her hips, when Rosalie grumbles, “Mom, let’s go get lunch. I’m starving.”

Creekman is standing cross-legged next to the large floor-to-ceiling window. “Therese is already at the place next door, seeing if they can prepare a table for you now.”

Therese and Creekman walk the Coleman family to lunch a short while later. I beg off, gesturing to the deadbolt locks. “It’s giving me trouble. I’ll need a little time.”

Once they enter the elevator, I install my own lock, taking a set of keys of my own. Walking over to the kitchen counter, I thread Rosalie’s keys into the metal loops on her keychain. She’s made it very convenient for me to swap them out by leaving them lying around, one of many bad habits I need to break her of.

Screwing longer bolts into the door hinges, I engage the lock, ensuring my key works properly.

When the family returns with boxes of takeout, saying the restaurant was crowded, Rosalie walks up with a styrofoam takeout container. Wordlessly, she hands it to me with plastic silverware and my favorite soft drink. She blinks at me and turns, not saying anything.

Inwardly, I twitch, grateful she’s decided to leave their home so quickly. Behaving so differently with me, eventually, it’ll be noticed. My uncle taught me to be friendly while working as a bodyguard, but never familiar. Acting too familiar, the lines often blur into friendship. As Brody’s time with the Coleman family extended on, and his responsibilities became lighter and lighter with age, this is what happened, breaking his own rule.

As much as I want to be closer to Rosalie, I’ve kept my distance from her. In part because of the “be friendly but not familiar” rule. Ethan allowed Brody to break the hard and fast rule since he’s been with Ethan the longest. He wouldn’t tolerate it from me or any of the other bodyguards.

Popping open the lid, I find a plate of pulled pork with coleslaw and baked beans, my regular order at the barbecue place in Nashville. “Thanks, Rosalie. I thought I was stuck eating a protein bar on the drive back.”

She crosses her arms around herself, not quite meeting my gaze from the sofa. “It’s no trouble.” She opens her own plate of food, her eyes never leaving her plate.

As we prepare to leave Rosalie in her own place for the first night, Ethan takes one last look at the locks. “The extra set?” he asks, holding his hand out.

Nodding my head, I reach into my left pocket, where I’ve stored the set of keys from his lock. There is no chance I’m giving him a key to the installed deadbolt. I don’t want anyone to be able to just walk in while I’m balls deep inside of her.

I’m the last out the door as we leave, Ethan reminding Rosalie to lock the door behind herself.

As I turn to close the door behind myself, I see Rosalie crossing her arms around herself, staring at me. She seems to be breathing in and out as if trying to keep calm. She likely thinks this is the last time we’ll see one another.

“Lock the door behind us now. I want to hear it engage,” I tell her softly.

She walks towards me, her hand on the knob, inches from me.

I glance behind me. The others are by the elevator, waiting to get on. “The camera in the apartment doesn’t work,” I tell her with a wink.

She blinks in surprise and then smiles, glancing up. “Thank God. I don’t own a meat mallet yet,” she whispers back. “Goodbye, Sawyer,” she says with a sad little smile.

“Goodbye, Rosalie.” I close the door behind myself, waiting to hear the click of the deadbolt sliding into place before walking to the elevator to get on with the others. I resist the urge to open the door and hold her, knowing how upset she must be. She’s upset now, but it will be worth it in the end, I tell myself as I walk out of the building and into the waiting vehicle.

Chapter twelve

---