Page 137 of Lovers Like Us
“Say something,” Jane says to me, a pink sleeping eye-mask on her head. But like me, she hasn’t slept. Guilt clouds her blueeyes.
“It’s not your fault,Janie.”
She narrated the Christmas Eve video. Beckett filmed it, but neither of them leakedit.
“But you talked to the security company,” she says like she’s filing all the details again and again. “It couldn’t have been ahack.”
I nod. “It wasn’t a hack, but Beckett texted the video to family and security. Which was fine. We’re all on a secure line, so it’s not his fault either.” He couldn’t have knownsomeonewould share the video and break the circle oftrust.
We just don’t know whodid.
Farrow pops his gum. “A famous one or security leaked it to the press,Cobalt.”
“Our familieswouldn’t,” Jane sayspassionately.
“Epsilon,” Donnelly theorizes a culprit. “Someonenarked.”
Oscar turns. “Doesn’t matter. The moment we leave this hotel, we’re all fired.” He gestures to the chaotic street. “Look at that. We can’t protect anyone if more security needs to flankus.”
Quinn pacesagain.
“Oh fuck, go back.” Sulli is motioning for Donnelly to changechannels.
He returns to the last one, entertainment news, and increases thevolume.
“…Christmas has extended its stay and is bearing more gifts for us,” the female reporter says on a sound stage. “Take a look at the viral video of the men who protect the Hales, Meadows, and Cobalts. And be warned, you may need an ice cold shower after this one. So ho, ho, ho, watch these hotties, and let us know if you shipit.”
Strangely, her words lighten the tension. Donnelly and Farrow aresmiling.
The video plays on the television. But this one is slightly different. The news station added bright text over each bodyguard as they saunter down the mockrunway.
Akara is first with the words:TheBoss.
“Truth,” Donnellysays.
Jane and I exchange a wary look. They’re labeling SFO from the bios Jane created on-the-fly, and it’s not an original concept or acoincidence.
It’s a homage. Our parents were once labeled just like this,and over twenty-two years later, media and fans still call Uncle Ryke “thejackass”.
“Please let them all be positive attributes,” Jane says in a softbreath.
On-screen, Donnelly appears in red trunks.The Ass-Kicker.
“Sweet.” Donnellysmirks.
Farrow is next:TheMaverick.
I glance at him, and his lips almost rise. But he doesn’t really smile anymore. Come tomorrow, he may not be my bodyguard and some other guy probably willbe.
But we did dodge one bullet. The video never showed us embracing, and the audio didn’t catch usflirting.
So the world thinks he’s just mybodyguard.
And I’m just hisclient.
Knowing we weren’t the ones who ruined Omega—that our relationship didn’t catapult their fame—it doesn’t really help. No matter the cause, their jobs are still on the choppingblock.
Oscar pops on-screen, muscles oiled.ThePro.
