Page 121 of Hide and Keep

She is like a bat. Active at night, a little creepy, and territorial as all fuck.

“And as my bodyguard, if I tell you I don’t want you so much as glancing at another female while you’re on the job, then you better develop afuckingcataract the moment one enters your vision!”

Goddamn it, why is this such a turn-on? She kicked a girl’s teeth in over me. That’s gotta be the biggest red flag… So then why the hell am I over here acting like a raging bull in a ring, completely entranced by that shit, about to charge straight at it?

“Why does it matter who I look at?” Especially when she’s the only one I’m focused on anyway.

She swallows as she pops up those slender shoulders.

“How many ways do I have to explain it? The name Munreaux holds a certain standard of quality. It’d be the same if one of our salesmen was caught ogling a lesser motorcycle every chance he got. Except my father would fire the salesman. You’re getting off with a warning because for some reason my father refuses to fire you.”

Her possessiveness isn’t for me as inmejust myself, but me as in her employee, her possession. Her prop. It could be anyone. Edwin even.

Would she get mad if her professor was sniffing around Edwin though?

“What’d you do to Johanna?”

Her eyes blaze but she says, “Nothing,” like it is nothing, like she’s not burning up over hearing me say that name.

“Your meeting with the dean… Johanna wasn’t the reason for it?”

The fire grows.

“Oh, she was.”

“Then—”

“I didn’tdoanything to her.” She pauses and I swear to God I can hear her add “yet” in her mind. “I had an informative conversation with the dean about Professor Flemming’s behavior possibly interfering with my safety, which is supposed to beyourmain concern… Right?”

It’s not a question. It’s rhetorical, but meaner, like a jab.

“Right. Your safety is my concern. My only concern. And I don’t like the way those motherfuckers handle you.”

Might as well clear the air on everything. I got some shit to get off my chest, too.

Her posture finally thaws a fraction.

“Which ones?”

Any one that’s ever handled you.

“The stunter…guys.” Are they all bases?

She spins around, her back to me, and says, “Lucky for you, the season just ended.”

“Unlucky for me, your need to fly didn’t.”

“So what?” she snaps.

I grab her elbow. “So…if anyone’s going to…throw you…”

What am I doing?

“…between now and next season…”

Am I doing this?

“…it’s going to be me.”

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