The Bodyguard

ROSALIE

On our way back to my apartment, I was quiet in the car. After my initial happiness of seeing Jonathan, I remembered how he had left me without so much as a bye.

I thought back to how my anxiety attack had bubbled to the surface and almost crippled me. If it hadn’t been for Peter and the alcohol he gave me, I would’ve been a hot mess.

I sat rigid in my seat with my arms crossed over my chest as I stared out the window.

“You’re quiet today,” said Jonathan, sounding concerned. “Something wrong?”

I stayed silent. I was mad at him and I wanted him to feel it. I knew I was being petty and childish by giving him the silent treatment, but I didn’t care.

My headache didn’t help the situation either—actually, it made me more irritated. I didn’t think I had drunk enough last night to cause this hangover. Then again, I had never had alcohol before.

“Are you angry with me?” he asked softly after I didn’t bother to answer.

More silence. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on the car window.

“Rosalie, I’m sorry,” he said with sincerity as he glanced at me before turning his eyes back to the road.

“My mom overdosed on sleeping pills and I freaked out. I didn’t think to inform you before I left, and I failed as your bodyguard. I’m sorry.”

I turned to look at him, but something stopped me from accepting his apology. Instead, I just asked, “How’s your mom? Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She’s good now. Got discharged this morning without any permanent damage.”

“I’m glad,” I said, back to being silent.

We arrived at the apartment, and I got out of the car too quickly. I got dizzy and had to hold on to the car door for balance.

I waited until the fireworks stopped shooting in my head and for my eyes to adjust back to normal.

Jonathan walked over to me and held my elbow. “Are you all right? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” I moved out of his touch and went into the apartment. I heard him sigh behind me, but I ignored it.

Once he had closed the door behind him, he quickly came up behind me and seized my arm, stopping me. “Rosalie. I said I was sorry. Please say something. You not reacting is driving me crazy.”

I twisted around and snapped. “I’m still mad at you. You left me all alone to fend for myself. If it weren’t for Peter being so nice to me, I don’t know what would have happened.”

His eyes narrowed at the mention of Peter’s name, but I kept going.

“I was tempted to call my father to have a driver pick me up to bring me home so I wouldn’t have to be alone in an empty apartment. But I resisted because I didn’t want my father to replace you with another bodyguard.”

Tears pooled in my eyes and threatened to spill out. I fought hard to keep my eyes from blinking—from letting the tears fall.

Ugh. Why did I care so much? If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be so angry. I felt like a loser for admitting that I was scared to stay in the apartment alone.

Jonathan pulled me to him, holding one arm around my waist and pressing my head to his hard, comforting chest with the other. I could hear his loud heartbeat drumming against my ear as my hands gripped his shirt tightly.

“I don’t want another bodyguard—just you,” I added meekly into his chest.

Crap. Why did I tell him that? I don’t need to tell him all my thoughts. I need to stop showing him all my cards.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Suddenly, without warning, he released me. His hands came up to cup my face as his lips crashed down onto my unsuspecting ones.

My eyes went wide with shock as my fingers curled tighter around his shirt.

After the initial surprise, my mind started to focus on what he was doing to my lips. Butterflies in my stomach exploded in a dozen different ways as I melted like butter against him.

The only things keeping me up were my hands on his shirt, and they were starting to loosen as well.

I let out a tiny moan as he continued to kiss me, ravishing my lips. He teased my bottom lip with his teeth before enclosing his lips around it, playing with it some more with his tongue.

I couldn’t breathe as he continued to swallow all my air, but I didn’t mind. It was all so delicious that I didn’t want it to stop.

Are all kisses this delightfully delectable?

JONATHAN

I was kissing Rosalie with abandonment until she breathed out sweetly, “Jonathan.”

Hearing my name broke the spell, and I immediately pulled away. Her lips were red and swollen and still parted as if waiting for me to continue.

Fuck! Why the hell did I do that?

I felt like I tended to forget to think whenever I was around her. I would act so automatically that I would never realize what I was doing until after the fact.

I had just kissed her with so much feeling and passion that I didn’t know I possessed. My previous kisses and sexual experiences had been so casual without any attachments, but this one felt completely different.

It scared the hell out of me.

I dropped my hands. Her brown eyes were searching me openly without defense. Her vulnerability clutched at my heart and made me desperately want to pull her back into my arms.

I fought the impulse and walked away without a word.

Shit. I just crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed. What the hell am I going to do now?

Although I knew I should feel guilty for taking advantage of her innocence, I was not sorry one bit.

I felt like a bastard instead for not feeling remorseful for kissing her. How could I when I knew that I would gladly do it again? Even though I knew I shouldn’t.

Now that’s a fucking dilemma for you.

After that, I tried to avoid her all day. If she was in the kitchen, I would be in the living room; if she was in the living room, I would go to my room or outside for some fresh air.

Finally, night rolled around and I was relieved—avoiding her had been exhausting. I didn’t think I could do it much longer.

ROSALIE

Jonathan had been avoiding me all day since he kissed me. Somehow, he had managed to strategically dodge me in this limited space.

Fine. Two can play that game.

I pretended that I didn’t care and tried to act normal, unaffected by his cold shoulder. However, inside I was extremely hurt. I felt completely and utterly rejected.

It felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart when he walked away, as if kissing me was a big mistake he didn’t want to repeat, a regret he couldn’t get over, a disease he didn’t want to get.

Now, as I lay in bed, I wondered if we were going to treat each other like this—like strangers—from now on.

But this was worse than being strangers; at least as strangers, there wouldn’t be any awkwardness. He was going out of his way to avoid me at all costs.

I sighed as I pictured a hundred different ways how he would treat me in the morning. As much as I couldn’t stand how he was treating me right now, I still couldn’t bring myself to even think about getting a different bodyguard.

Sleep took me before I could contemplate further on our current situation.