Page 21 of Trust My Bodyguard

Fuck. Can’t think that way.

I pull in a deep breath to settle my racing heart. It’s only been a day and Ivy is getting under my skin in every way. I can’t allow that. I shut my eyes and count numbers to disperse the thoughts of her. That’s dangerous territory and I’m never going down that road.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ivy

I can’t sleep.

I don’t know how much time has passed since I’ve been lying in bed wide awake but it feels like hours. No position I assume seems to do the trick that would plunge me into the depths of blissful unawareness.

Last night I was tense and worried about my and Iris’s safety. I was unsure how everything would pan out so it makes sense that I couldn’t sleep. However, ever since arriving at our cabin, a sense of safety has cloaked us. The cabin is far away from the main building and we are unlikely to run into strangers. It’s also close enough that we can call for help.

For now, at least, I’m not worried about anyone getting us. So why can’t I just relax and sleep like a normal person?

I throw the covers off my body and sit up. My head spins and I have to stay still to allow it to settle. Exhaustion weighs down on me but for some reason, my eyelids have rejected the invitation to stay closed long enough to let me have some pleasurable hours of thoughtlessness.

And I do need those hours.

All I can think about is—not the twisted situation I’m in with my sister— but rather, I’m thinking about Brody. My brain is betraying me.

I wish I can say it’s because he’s been a douche to me since we arrived, but no. I can’t stop reliving the glimpse of his back. What would it feel like to run my hands down it, exploring every hard edge? What would I uncover reading the inscriptions below his large tattoo?

I wonder if he’s a moaner or a groaner. Would he tell me what to do with that deep, compelling voice? I bet he’s stern in bed too. He would scold me and try to dominate me when I protest.

I groan and cover my face with my hands. I can’t do this for another minute.

I climb out of bed. Maybe a drink would help clear my head of these naughty thoughts. Imagine if he finds out I’m thinking such things about him.

Never. I’m not telling anyone. Not after I’ve raised a storm about how much I dislike him.

I open the door careful to do it quietly. The hallway is dark but I pad across it easily and into the open-concept kitchen. My eyesare instinctively drawn to the living room. The fire has died out in the fireplace, but I can still spot the body sprawled across the couch from the soft light coming in through the window.

Callum told us earlier that Brody would be taking over for him. I didn’t stay out long enough to say hi, but I’m aware that’s him. He’s sleeping there peacefully while I’m struggling.Ugh.

I pull the fridge door and scour through, taking out a bottle of fruit juice. Maybe I should slam the door so he wakes up too, then I wouldn’t be the only one having a bad night. But he needs sleep so he’s sharp and alert when he has to protect my sister.

Choices, choices.

As I sip and contemplate my plan, a sound pulls my attention. My ears perk up and I stand straight. I dart my gaze left and right, looking for the source of danger. It comes again, and this time, my eyes are drawn to the living room couch.

I drift to the couch and peek over the backrest. Brody lies face up with a blanket half covering his oversized frame.

Asleep, he looks harmless.

His shaggy blond hair paired with his full lips make him look kind.

I know differently, so I ignore the warmth growing in my belly.

It doesn’t matter that he’s a fine man. He’s a fine, infuriating man, and the latter part obliterates the effects of the former.

Why then am I preoccupied with thoughts of lying cocooned in his big, beefy arms?

My wayward thoughts are cut off when his scrunches up tight and a grunt falls from his lips. It’s the sound I heard earlier. He tosses and turns, dislodging more of the blanket. A sheen of perspiration dots his forehead.

“No, no...” he mutters, tossing left and right. “Not now.”

My chest squeezes. He’s having a nightmare.

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