More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
But we are allowed to converse. We should talk. Reach out, Jane. Just as I begin to stand, Thatcher detaches from his spot, and he crosses the room. His attentive gaze never leaves me. My heart begins to race, and I lower back onto the old creaking stair. My bodyguard halts at the banister. Towering above me, the staircase too narrow for more than one person to sit.
For the tall bodyguard. Fuck you.
Wtf
Oscar looks back at us, his curly hair falling over a rolled blue bandana. “Where’s my positive affirmation, Highland?” Jack wears a softer grin. “What kind are you looking for?” “What do you want to give me?” Oscar shakes a water bottle full of protein mix. Jack is about to reply. “Give it to him sloppy,” Donnelly smirks. “Ignore Donnelly,” Oscar tells Jack. “You’ll feel smarter.” Donnelly scoops pudding with his finger. “Ignoring Oscar makes your dick feel bigger.”
“Who bought a hundred banana cream pie pudding cups? Literally, a hundred.” Quinn scrunches his face and hoists a plastic bag at the table. Oscar tosses a chip in his mouth. “Who do you think? There’s only one guy who’s eating that shit.” Donnelly is crushing the cup, squeezing pudding in his mouth.
“Damn, how come no one bought avocados or bread, but we have a hundred pudding cups?” Thatcher stares more sternly. “If you had your radio on, you could’ve asked for that.” Donnelly nods. “You tell him, Thatch.” “It’s Thatcher,” he corrects. Often, actually.
Banks slips inside. All of Security Force Omega is now here.
7 Omega Bodyguards + 3 Cousins + 1 Exec Producer = 11 Brains.
Donnelly rips a photo off the wall. “This one looks like a straight up prick.” “Man, they’re not dating you,” Farrow says easily. He grins. “They wish they could have this ass.” Oscar turns his head to me. “It’s not a bad idea, Cobalt.” He stuffs his hand in the chip bag. “You openly dating a guy should calm down some of the aggressive men outside. They’ll leave knowing they lost their chance.”
“I’m perfectly fine.” Luna bounces her head. “I see it. I feel it.” She air high-fives me from across the room while licking a pudding cup. My lips rise. I adore Luna Hale.
“Just date Moretti,” Oscar suggests so suddenly, and the room explodes in two exclamations: “What?!” “Oscar?!”
Lmao
Oscar crumples the chip bag in his hand. “I meant pretend to date. As in, just do it long enough that the unstable men outside can take a hint that she’s taken.” Farrow lifts his brows at his friend. “You want Jane to pretend to date her bodyguard. Do you even know the consequences of that?” “Not more than you would,” Oscar admits.
“But it’s better than these unstable motherfuckers, little bro,” Oscar tells him. “The ad lit something in some strange bastards, and now they think they have a chance with Jane. We can rid about sixty-five percent of the could-be stalkers if we nip this early and they think Jane’s taken.”
“That’s why it’s not a hundred-percent, Redford. Can’t rid them all.” “Sixty-five percent success rate,” Akara says. “It’s not bad.” I lift a finger. “Pardon, but where did that number come from?” Oscar answers, “Seven years of experience handling a thousand different kinds of motherfuckers.” “Amen,” Banks nods.
“Your life will be fodder for the public. I can’t let you do this for me,” I tell Thatcher. “If you’re considering it at all, that is.” I’m not even sure what he’s leaning towards. “I’d do anything to keep you safe, Jane,” he says deeply and without falter.
“My parents,” I ponder quickly. “No, they won’t think it’s unprofessional if I fake-date a bodyguard.” I smile in thought. “I’m sure they’ll actually think it’s a bit of fun strategy. Like chess.”
“The other forces may try to tie our hands, guys,” Akara says diplomatically to all of SFO. “But we already have less power on the team right now, regardless if we take a risk today or down the line.” He snaps his fingers to his palm and then glances between Thatcher and me. “Whatever you both decide, we’ll all back.” Every bodyguard nods in agreement. Even Farrow, who easily rises above his dislike for Thatcher if the outcome means protecting me.
Cute
Very casually, Farrow tells me, “I’m also pro-Jane more than I’m anti-anything-else.” Maximoff smiles at Farrow like he beat him at something strenuous. “You just copied me.” Farrow chews gum while grinning at him. They both love one-upping each other.
Her room is drenched in pastel colors, sequins, and animal prints. Coming here is like jumping into some type of milkshake-drinking bubblegum-blowing pop era that dresses up as the fucking 80s. Banks says it gives him agita. Makes him want to chug three bottles of Pepto-Bismol, and if it weren’t for Jane, I might feel the same.
Lmao
“Jane,” I say, clear and cut and definitive, “I’ve already made a decision.” She never breaks eye contact. “You have…?” “I want to do this with you.” Her voice catches, words stuck on her tongue. I hold her gaze in a tighter grip. “I want to date you in public.” Jane presses her knuckles to her lips. “For my protection.” She’s laying out the parameters before I even can. We’ve been good about that. “For your protection,”
“Platonically, I’m guessing. How does one actually fake date?” Her eyes glimmer like we’re headed into curious territory. I soak up her excitement. It amplifies my readiness, and I crave nothing more than to push forward with Jane.
Jane fills the quiet. “What type of boundaries are we talking about?” “We can’t have sex.”
I restart, “No matter how attracted we both are to each other.” Her mouth falls and wavers into a shocked smile. “You just said out loud that you’re attracted to me.”
She’s more surprised that I said the words than that I actually am attracted to her. Which means I did a piss-poor job at hiding it, but I already knew that. “Jane,” I say, voice deep. “No sex.” “Oui.”
“Just for clarity between us, I’ve thought the same: that you’d be the exception if I were to ever touch a dick again—but I won’t touch yours,” she adds quickly. “We’re strictly fake boyfriend and fake girlfriend. Sex should stay out of bounds, I wholeheartedly agree.”
“When we say no sex, maybe we should be more specific.” I never flinch. “Specifically, my cock isn’t going inside your pussy.” Jane crosses her ankles, her chest concaving in arousal. “I usually dislike when guys say pussy, but…that was good…very direct and assertive.” She smooths her lips together. “Assertiveness suits you.”
She hooks an arm around her bedpost. “I think being an inseparably cute couple would be easiest, but also not necessarily true to me.” I drop my hand. “Not true to me either.” A smile dimples her cheeks. “To us, then. We are highly…physical?” she asks tentatively. “Affirmative,” I say.
“We’re both adults,” I remind her. “I think we can kiss and stop ourselves from having sex.” “Normally, I would agree. But it’s been six months.” I’m inferring she’s talking about how long since she last got laid. I have her beat. “Ten months for me.”
“You’re very self-aware, you know.” I don’t respond yet. Wanting to hear what else she has to say. “And you’re respectful,” she lists, like she’s constructing a PowerPoint of my traits. “Very considerate, as well. All things I’m drawn towards—which is perfect since you’re my fake boyfriend.”
“We should practice.” “We should,” she agrees. “Kissing?” “Kissing,” I confirm. “I’m a whole foot taller than you.” “Exactly,” she notes. “If we just do it in public without proper preparation, it’ll be obvious that we’re fake dating.” “And that it’s your first time.” Her intrigue piques. “My first time…” “With me,” I say strongly.
I could just lean my head down. I could. But I don’t. In a swift, natural move, I cup the back of her thighs, and I hoist Jane up against my body—we’re eye-level, her legs instinctively spreading apart. Wrapping around my waist, gripping tight. Her hands fly around the back of my neck and nestle in my hair.
“This is just practice,” she reaffirms in a shallow pant, lips reddened from the force. I nod. “Just practice.” “Practicing is very professional of us.” Her palm warms my chest, and we kiss deeper. Again, and again.
“If I’m too heavy, you can set me down,” she says conversationally. “I don’t mind.” My chest tightens, and I narrow a stern look on Jane. “I could bench press you all night.” Did I make her feel…? Concern draws my brows together. I clasp her face, my large hand enveloping her flushed cheek. “You’re meant to be in my arms, Jane.”
“It was practice,” I explain to my best friend. “A practice kiss.” Maximoff stares at me like I’m talking in a foreign language.
Lmao
“Say something,” I tell him. “You and Thatcher kissed.” “Say something that doesn’t involve stating facts,” I rephrase and squirt cleanser on my palm. “Did you like it?” He reaches for his toothbrush. “Oui.”
“He was hard,” I explain to Moffy, but I quickly clarify that I didn’t actually see anything. I pause in another realization. “Unless his bulge feels that big when he’s soft. I suppose I wouldn’t know. But he seemed hard to me.”
Lmao
“Your bodyguard has a literal hard-on for you.” I lather cleanser on my cheeks. “And yours, you.” He reanimates, pushing aside razors and grabbing a tube of toothpaste. “Say that a little louder next time you see Farrow. He keeps thinking I’m the one who’s obsessed with him.” He lets out a dry laugh. “In his dreams.”
Lmao
“Salut, petit diable,” I say brightly. Hello, little devil.
I spent the majority of last night calling each of my siblings and mom and dad, letting them know my plan to fake date my twenty-eight-year-old bodyguard. It was a quick call to each, and they all voiced their approval in their own way. We’re a supportive clan but, more importantly, we all love grandiose displays of loyalty. And nothing screams loyalty like shielding a secret from the entire world.
“Thatcher will not be wearing an I heart J.E.C. shirt,” I tell Tom. “We’re going to be a little more discreet than that.” “Boring,” he tells me.
“Moffy, your bodyguard has a terribly big hard-on for you.” Maximoff tries to boast, but he ends up smiling too much at Farrow. “You heard Janie. She only speaks the truth.”
Farrow skims Maximoff’s bare chest and towel. “You told her to tell me that, wolf scout.” Maximoff scrunches his face, about to put the toothbrush back. “How could you know that, man?” He arches his brows. “Because I know you.” He looks to me. “And you.”
His gaze flits to Maximoff’s hand, and his smile suddenly stretches from cheek to cheek. “That’s also my toothbrush.” Oh no. Maximoff goes rigid. “No it’s not.” He checks. Oh it is. Farrow laughs and pushes into the bathroom.
Banks prefers not being in charge, but briefly, he’d been a lead right after I stepped down. And when he relinquished the role, he was so fucking happy he kissed the pavement in Studio 9’s parking lot.
I only mentally booked a room for hell around the time we shared tight space on a tour bus. And she was admittedly sexually frustrated. I was sexually fucking frustrated, and we kept looking at each other. I wouldn’t cross that line to help her.
She ended up just keeping one 24/7 bodyguard on-duty. After that happened to her, I took time to ensure she was protected. I thought it was because I was a lead. But Banks believed differently.
“In her bathroom? First a kiss, then a—” “We have boundaries set,” I cut him off, pocketing my phone. “This is just to protect her.” “But you like her,” Banks says. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Just a fair warning: if you fuck with Jane during this fake-dating stunt, I won’t come for you,” Maximoff says firmly, spearing a territorial glare into me. “Because I’ll go after your brother instead, and I’ll break both of his kneecaps and stake his head on a fucking pitchfork.”
I’d die for Banks, no hesitation; the idea of living without him is eviscerating—but I get Maximoff’s protectiveness of Jane. Fully. “He’s being hyperbolic,” Jane says to me, her eyes widened.
Her ability to be comfortable in her own skin—it’s gorgeous. Flat-out, and for once, I allow myself to think it without reprimand.
Jane steeples her fingertips to her lips. Eyes darting back and forth to everyone. Even to Farrow who leans casually on the shower door and smiles while chewing gum. I can’t tell if he’s entertained by his fiancé or just by me getting threatened.
