Page 49 of Who's Saving You
“Well, I think he’s just what you need to take your mind off of work for a bit.”
“Heismy work, Liv.”
“Okay, so when you take a break, or weekends?”
“You need to stop trying to pimp me out.”
“I just worry about you. I want you to find love. You’re not getting younger, ya know.” She gives a teasing grin.
“I’m happy just the way my life is right now.”
And if happiness is being forced to live in a condo with a rookie NFL player and a bodyguard, I guess I’m doing pretty good.
“Just don’t let your reporter brain get in the way of your common sense.”
I wave her off, and she tells me about her week, but mymind is dancing around, and I’m only half-listening. I’m being scared into dropping this story, and I just can’t do that. My stubbornness would never let me give in. And right now, it’s just a story. If it becomes more than that, and really becomes a danger, then I’ll think about walking away. But until then, I’m in this.
“That big guy who ordered before you looked familiar.”
“Yeah, that’s Stone. He works at Club Trick; he’s a bodyguard.” I answer before I realize, and quickly cover it by gulping down my coffee.
“Oh, yes! I thought he looked familiar.” She pauses and looks at me. “How do you know his name?”
I swallow hard, then take another sip, trying to come up with a reason. “When they came to get me from the dance floor that night, he was one of the guys.”
I really hope she doesn’t remember he wasn’t the guy who escorted me, but was actually in the VIP room.
“Why did you have to go up there anyway?”
I shake my head.Fucking questions. “Nik saw me and wanted to go over a bit of the interview.”
“I thought you said he’s avoiding the questions.”
“Well, he is, but I guess because he saw me and–”
“How did he see you?”
“Jesus, what’s with the questions?”
She furrows her brows. “I’m just asking, damn, touchy.”
I close my eyes for a moment and breathe deep. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little on edge.”
“Shit, if I went home with the rookie of the year, I guess I’d be, too.”
I laugh at her. “There’s a window in that room, overlooking the entire place. He saw us on the dancefloor.”
She whistles. “This is some real gangster shit.”
You’ve no idea.
“Anyway, he’s a baby, Olivia. And a fucking football player. None of that is for me.”
“It could be for you.”
My mind swirls with possibilities. Dylan would have told me I was stupid for letting my feelings take over. I remind myself that when I let my guard down with him, he screwed me over professionally and personally. I tell myself I should be afraid of Nik, that what I saw and heard is more than enough to put distance between us, and that getting tangled up in emotions or physically with him would be the worst thing ever. But to be honest, the closer danger presses in, the more I want to run straight to him. I don’t know him, and I shouldn't trust him, but I want to. And it’s pretty terrifying that I can’t tell the difference anymore.
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