Page 33 of Bad For A Weekend

“If you’re done chatting, I’m going to the restroom, so I thought maybe you’d want to make sure I got there okay.” Her sass is in full force as she glares at the woman I was talking to.

“Let’s go,” I say.

“Nothing like babysitting bratty teens, am I right?” the woman says as I walk off.

I follow Baylor until we reach the hallway where the bathroom is. She stops right outside the door and whirls around. “You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on me.”

“What?”

“You were too busy flirting with Lyric’s mom that you didn’t even notice I walked away from my friends.”

She’s right, but it’s not like her to want me to babysit her, so I’m confused.

“She was asking me questions. I thought it would be rude to ignore her. What’s this really about?”

“I could’ve been taken, and you wouldn’t even know because you were too busy trying to get your dick sucked by a MILF.” Her creamy complexion turns red, and she purses her lips.

Her vulgar words catch me off guard and piss me off. She shouldn’t be questioning my dedication, especially after all our conversations over the last few weeks. She may not know why I take my job so seriously, but she knows I do.

Then it hits me. She’s jealous.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were too busy grinding your ass onFinnto notice anything I was doing,” I bite out.

“What would you rather I do, Owen?” Her words are a challenge, and I know what she’s digging for. She wants me to tell her I’d rather she be grinding on me, dancing with me, flirting with me. But she better get used to disappointment because I can’t offer her any of those things.

“I don’t care what you do. My opinions are irrelevant to the job.”

“The job? That’s all I am to you?”

“What do you want me to say? You will never be anything other than a job.” There. I said it. Laid it all out on the table.

“You’re an asshole. You know that?” She charges into the bathroom, slamming the door in my face.

What the fuck is wrong with her tonight? She’s too smart to think I’d let anything happen between us. I’m her bodyguard. That’s it.

I can’t put all the blame on her. I’ve flirted back. I’ve let her in. I’ve gotten too damn close.

Minutes pass, and Baylor doesn’t emerge. Pacing back and forth, I begin to panic. She wouldn’t do anything stupid, right? She’s just touching up her makeup or some shit.

I stop a girl before she enters the bathroom. “Do you know Baylor Giles?”

“Yeah?” She eyes me speculatively.

“Can you check and see if she’s in there?”

“Who are you?”

“Her dad.” I lie because the truth is too much to explain.

“You’re not her dad,” she says because everyone knows who Corey Giles is.

“Oh my God. Can you please just tell her to come out?”

She gives me a dirty look and goes inside. Five minutes later, she returns with the same pinched expression.

“Is she in there?” I ask.

“Yeah. She told me to tell you to fuck off.”

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