Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
My parents.
That hasn’t even crossed my mind yet. My parents. My brothers. My little sister. What will they say?
“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.”
SFO relaxes more at this news.
Banks rotates to Akara. “What about Alpha and Epsilon? They’re already on Omega’s ass about all of us being barely famous, and they’ve limited our ability to go on-duty during events. So having another bodyguard as famous as Farrow will…?”
“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.
Thatcher steps away from the staircase. Eyes set on Banks, he motions to the adjoining door, and then he glances at me. “We’ll be back.”
I nod, understanding completely.
Whatever happens will affect Banks, and possibly, he’s confirming with his brother that he’s okay about their military backgrounds being exposed to the team and the world.
As they disappear, SFO whispers quietly to each other, and I head to the fireplace where Maximoff and Farrow stand.
I’m so confused, and my voice is a whisper as I ask, “Shouldn’t you two be anti-this-plan? It involves me being closer to someone you both dislike.” I don’t blame them at all for not loving Thatcher.
Maximoff puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m pro-Jane.” His intense green eyes speak a thousand promises. To always stick by my side. Through every terrible and wonderful thing.
My eyes burn with emotion, and I feel a smile at my lips.
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.
His smile vanishes, and he gestures to Farrow’s chest. “You did copy me, man.”
“Technically, I said a hell of a lot more than you.”
Maximoff grimaces, trying to hide his affection for his fiancé in this moment. He does a very decent job. I give my best friend a solid 7.5 out of 10 for effort and execution. His arm is still around Farrow’s shoulders or else he’d be a perfect 10.
He’s about to speak, but the adjoining door swings open.
The Moretti brothers are back already from their quick chat.
Thatcher’s intense gaze descends upon me. “I need to talk to Jane alone.”
My eyes grow and I sweep him more inquiringly. Moments like these, I’d love to be able to predict the future.
13
THATCHER MORETTI
“Ignore the mess,” Jane says as she snatches dirty clothes off a fuzzy rug and flings them in a narrow, stuffed closet.
I shut the door behind me.
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.
But I step foot in here and I just see all the sides of Jane Cobalt. Bold and soft. Outlandish and unabashed. Feminine and eager.
Beautiful.
It makes me never want to leave.
Don’t go there —but I’m already here, and truth is, I’ve been in her room plenty before. For security. After the Nate incident, she asked if I could make routine checks each night.
I have.
It’s not a big space. Not many places for a target to hide. Not many entry-points for a break-in. Her four-poster bed is tucked up against the only window, and a pale blue vanity and cushioned stool hug a corner.
I’ve opened the mirrored closet door and peered behind her skirts and blouses before. I’ve lifted up the pink duvet, so I could inspect the dark area underneath her bed. Always littered with cat toys.
I’ve had to stretch over her mattress and push aside cheetah-patterned drapes. Just to secure the latch on the window and reset an alarm.
But I’m not here right now to assess and observe. I’m here to talk to Jane.
This is still about security , I remind myself.
This is still about her protection.
That’s all it should be.
I stand at the door like I’m on patrol and shouldering eighty-pounds of gear on my back. Just routine. What I’m trained for.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
I fold my arms over my chest, and I watch Jane fling a stray pair of cotton panties into the closet before she whirls around. Almost tripping over her own feet. She brushes wavy brown strands out of her face, and then she settles a confident hand on her waist.