Page 83 of Freeing Ruby

She nods. “It helps me focus.”

I feel a sudden kinship with Layla, that we have more in common than I realized. “It looks like we both have challenges.”

Layla nods. “Yep. I just thought you’d want to know you’re not the only one dealing with issues. It’s a lot easier for me, now, with Jason in my life. He always seems to know what I need.”

“Is he—” I break off here, not sure what to ask. “Are you guys—”

She smiles. “He’s my boyfriend, yes, but he’s also my bodyguard. He monitors my health.”

“When we were eating I noticed Jason checking your blood sugar.”

“I’m a type I diabetic. Let’s just say I keep Jason on his toes.”

As we finish cleaning up the kitchen, Layla says, “You know, I’ve known Miguel for a while now. He and Jason are close. Miguel’s also good friends with my brother, Ian.”

“It’s a small world, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but my point is, everyone likes Miguel. He’s a great guy.”

I feel my cheeks heating. “Yes, he is.” If I’m not mistaken, I think Layla’s doing a bit of matchmaking.

Miguel pops his head through the kitchen doorway. “We found one of Liam’s championship fights on YouTube. You girls want to come watch it with us?”

“Sure,” Layla says. “Come on.” She gestures for me to follow. “Liam teaches martial arts and self-defense at McIntyre Security. He’s also a champion MMA fighter.”

We return to the living room and get comfortable watching Liam McIntyre dominate his opponent in a boxing ring. Honestly, it’s a bit brutal to watch. I find myself flinching every time he gets hit or kicked.

Liam’s championship video leads to another and another.

Miguel stands. “Who wants popcorn? This definitely calls for popcorn.”

* * *

Later that evening, after Layla and Jason have gone, Miguel and I are sitting together on the sofa, our feet propped up on the coffee table, in just our socks. We’re just chilling.

As my eyes grow heavy, I decide to get ready for bed. I disappear into the bathroom to wash up, and then into my bedroom to change into my nightgown. When I return to the living room, I find that Miguel has changed into a pair of navy-blue-and-white plaid flannel PJ bottoms and a navy blue T-shirt.

Miguel turns off the TV. “Ready for bed?”

“Yes.”

We’ve never really talked about our sleeping arrangement here. He slept with me last night, but I don’t know if he plans to do that again, or even if he wants to. I don’t want to make any assumptions. He has his own bedroom here. Maybe he wants his own space.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing. I just—I was wondering—”

He rises from the sofa and walks up to me with open arms. “Wondering what?”

“About the sleeping arrangements. I mean, are we—” My voice trails off. I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never been in a situation like this.

Miguel sweeps me up into his arms, carries me to my bed, and sets me on my feet. When Pumpkin races into the room and jumps up on the bed, Miguel laughs. “It looks like Pumpkin’s already made himself at home.”

I don’t know the correct etiquette for asking your—what? bodyguard? roommate? —if he wants to sleep with you. I sit on the side of the bed and reach for his hand. “Are you sleeping with me tonight?”

He glances down at me, his dark eyes smoldering. “I’d like to, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

I tug on his hand, drawing him closer. “I’m totally okay with you being presumptuous.”

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