Page 76 of Caleb
The fuck does he think he’s going with her?
This is a nightmare, and I want to fucking wake up.
I want off this ride.
After grabbing Red’s coat from her table, we followthem—discreetly—as per Aaron’s request. I don’t know if he’s thinking of leaving with her, but if he does, he’s the biggest idiot roaming around Paris.
Stubbornly, I relax when I realize she’s just going to the ladies’ room. Whiskey Guy waits outside, leaning against a wall, while we lurk in the shadows waiting for her to come out.
She does after a few minutes.
He holds out his hand for her and pulls her closer to him. I don’t like the way he keeps moving her around at his will, especially when she looks as tipsy as she does. Her movements are slow and careful, but she’s not shying away from him.
She likes him?
“It’s time to go,” I say to Aaron, checking my watch. Her curfew is drawing near. We don’t want to mess with Ambassador Murphy. Not tonight. And not for the next month.
“You’re right.” He agrees, for once.
Their faces are getting closer. He’s cupping her chin and slowly moving in on her, like a predator who’s ready to pounce on the perfect prey.
He’s wetting his lips and placing his hands on the small of her back.
“I swear to God, Aaron,” I say through my teeth, listening to the seconds passing by like a ticking bomb that’s a breath away from exploding. And I’m a vicious nuclear warhead at this point.
If he kisses her, I’m going to lose my shit,I want to say. But thankfully, the words don’t need to leave my mouth—Aaron’s the best at reading a room. He ends my misery and steps into their field of vision, clearing his throat.
Red widens her eyes and takes a half step back, but his hands are still attached to her waist.
“Boyfriend?” The idiot asks.
It’s my turn to “introduce” myself, and I’m not at my friendliest. The evident disgust is engraved on my face, and I’m not trying to hide it. I can’t stand to see him touching her.
“Boyfriends?” He grins at the sight of me like he’s not intimidated at all by the towering presence of two Israeli security agents standing before him.
“Bodyguards,” Red says under her breath.
And we’re armed to the teeth, motherfucker.
The Lovelorn Bodyguard
“MISS MURPHY, IT’S PAST ONE A.M.,”Aaron says, his tone flat, bordering on commanding. “We stretched time as long as we could. We need to comply with the curfew.”
“Time to go, Miss Murphy.” A smirk of satisfaction draws on my face as I keep my attention plastered on Whiskey Guy’s face.It’s time to say your goodbyes and drop those hands off her waist.
He complies with the latter and excuses himself, promising Red to be back in a second while all I can think of is getting her out of there as fast as possible.
Helping Red into her coat, I see Whiskey Guy paying his tab to one of the servers. He is swift to return, immediately grabbing Red’s hand and leading her out.
Red stops for a second and says something to him, but I can’t listen through the loud music. They exchange a few words until he laughs and continues walking out of the bar with Red’s fingers threaded between his.
Our driver has the black Mercedes ready and parked on the curb. Aaron walks ahead of us and gets the door for Red while I idle a few steps back because I cannot stand watching her interact with this guy so closely.
“Who are you?” The guy asks with a smile like he’s trying to be playful with her. I bet he can tell she’s someone important—the car, the driver, the security. It’s obvious she’s not just any girl.
“It was nice to meet you,” she says, looking mortified. I know she hates the attention that results from being an ambassador’s daughter.
“What do you mean, it was nice meeting me?” the guy replies with a smile. “I would love to see you again when you move back to New York.”
