Page 11 of Unrequited
“You have a keeper?” I ask.
She frowns. “Akeeper?What is that supposed to mean? Tell me that’s something Irish and not chauvinistic.”
I lean back a little. “Akeeper. Someone who watches over you. Protects you. Keeps you in check.”
She pauses, like she doesn’t want to answer. Then she sighs and gives me a small nod.
“I guess. I have brothers,” she admits. “Too manyfucking brothers.”
I growl again. That filthy word doesn’t sound right coming from her mouth. Her lips are too soft, her face too fucking pretty.
“You ought not curse like that,” I tell her.
Her cheeks flush pink. Embarrassed, and slightly flustered.
That adorable little chin juts out again. “Why the fuck not?”
I lean forward, push her drink toward her, and take her hand in mine.
I run my thumb slowly over the top of it, watching her squirm in her seat.
“Because I told you not to.”
She doesn’t pull away.
She meets my gaze and then looks away again, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted.
Sweet trouble, I think.
Then, “Sir,” a voice breaks in behind me.
I don’t even look.
I’m here mapping out the Kopolov family. I’ve got guards stationed in every direction. Eyes everywhere. Spies. Plants. Watchers.
I hold up a hand, wordless, signaling to give me a minute.
“Sir,” the voice says again, more insistent now.
A clearing of the throat. Another warning.
What the actual fuck?
No oneinterrupts me. I don’t allow it. And now he’s risking his fucking life by interrupting me.
“Wait,” I say over my shoulder, before I turn to her.
“You shouldn’t be here, babydoll,” I whisper. “This isn’t a place for a girl like you. Someone could hurt you. Someone could take advantage.”
But I don’t say the rest out loud.
Someone like me.
“Protect me, then,” she whispers quietly, without really asking. “Just like you did before.”
And fuck, I will. I fucking will. But I don’t know if that’s the right thing here.
What the actual fuck am I doing?
