My cheeks warm when recalling neither of us had much on for clothing that night. Still, I frown back at him. "What does it matter?"
"It matters to me." With his brows lowered, he takes the cushion beside me. "I've watched quietly from the sidelines for a long time now, and I'm not exactly sure I like what I'm seeing. When Charlie and your sister offered me this opportunity, I had the same reaction as you. I was annoyed they were suggesting that you needed someone to watch over you. You're obviously doing just fine, or you wouldn't have made it this far. But you're down here on your own, and your family's too busy to help you navigate through all the bullshit. I could be your connection to home-your compass."
A giggle bursts from my lips. "My ‘compass'? That's cheesy, even for you."
"You get what I mean." The corners of his mouth twitch with a sexy-as-hell smile. "If you let me do this job, it wouldn't be about keeping you out of trouble, or whatever the hell they may be thinking. It'd simply be about ensuring your safety and having someone nearby who has your back."
Okay, so I do get what he means, and it actually makes sense. It would be nice to have someone with a moral head on their shoulders to run ideas past, and guide me along. Everyone else involved in my career is only interested in what will generate the most amount of income.
Leaning back, I try my best to ignore the overwhelming pangs of desire rising to the surface, blurring the lines between what I want and what my foolish body thinks it wants. "The only way I would even consider this idea is if you can promise you won't tell Charlie about every little thing that goes on in my life. If he's only doing this so they can keep dibs on me, you may as well go home."
"I already told you that's not what this is about. But if he's my employer, I won't lie to him."
"What if I hired you instead?"
"I don't know if that would satisfy Charlie. He's insistent on running the show." Rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw, he grunts. "Is there something going on that you don't want your family knowing about?"
"Of course not," I answer too quickly. "I just hate the fact that they want to spy on me. It's a major invasion of my privacy when I've been on my own for the past ten years."
"What if you had a final say in whatever information I pass along to him?"
"That could work … maybe. But I think we should do a test run before you make a decision. For your sake. You might not like living in Miami. You might hate following me around."
"There's no need for a test run," he tells me with a tilt of his chin. "Charlie's flying me back home to get my house and things in order, then I'll be back." He makes himself comfortable on the couch with a hand crooked behind his head, and flashes a million-dollar-grin. "You and I both know I was meant for this job."
My stomach dips with his confidence.
He's right, and that's what scares me. Having him here feels right in so many ways. I'm just not sure there's room for him in my chaotic life.
4
Asher
Planning the move to Miami-for however long it may end up being-isn't so bad once I cash in on Charlie's promise to send me home for a week. Seems fucking pathetic that after twenty-six years of living, the only things that really matter fit into a larger suitcase. Never put much thought into it until seeing my worldly possessions all packed up. The majority of the clothes I own are no match for the Florida humidity, and something tells me I'd stick out like a sore thumb with the booze t-shirts given to me by the bar's distributors, so everything I can use fits in a small duffel bag. Guess I'll be hitting the mall with my first paycheck.
My parents moved to the north side of Minneapolis after I graduated, and junked most of the stuff from my childhood. I didn't keep much other than wrestling and football trophies. I was raised by decent, loving parents. There were a few years in my teens when I was a bit of a fucker and got into trouble for drinking, smoking, starting fights, etc. After spending my junior year in a military school down in Texas, I managed to straighten the hell up. Not my proudest days, but it was an integral part of who I'd later become, and how I finally learned respect.
A week ends up being the perfect amount of time to quit my job, square my house away and pack the shit I'll need, arrange for an old buddy who sells used cars to take my truck for a decent price, convince Hunter to make sure my pipes don't bust once it starts to freeze, and meet the guys for a going-away party the night before I fly back.
Roadrunners is quiet, only a handful of regulars I know better than my own family sitting with us at the bar. While there's no question I won't miss busting my ass, I'll miss the patrons. And as much as I missed sparring with James after he moved to New York, it was nice to have his twin and cousin around. Never a dull moment when Hunter and Levi are in the room.
Hunter sets his empty beer bottle down, motioning to Sadie for another round. Then he turns to me, a big ol' smart-assed smirk spreading across his face. "Can't say I'm surprised you agreed to this. I'm just sorry you're not taking me with you."
"Thanks for ratting me out to your little sister, fucker." I jab him in the shoulder and we both laugh. "But I think it'll be good for Angie to have someone from home on her side. Seems like she's in over her head with this fame bullshit."
"Did you meet that douche she's dating?"
"No, and I can't say I'm looking forward to it after seeing his bare ass on tv."
Hunter's eyes pop wide. "You watched her show? Oh shit … can't believe you did that."
"Wish I hadn't," I mutter into what's left of my beer.
Levi steps between us, and sets his arm on his cousin's shoulder. "I could've told you not to watch it. One of my college buddies told me it's better than porn because the acting's actually good."
Rage clenches my chest as Sadie's handing out fresh beers to everyone. "Can we talk about something else?" I grunt, swiping my new beer and taking a long swig.
My coworker sets a hand on her hip and narrows her eyes. "Still can't believe you're ditching us. You'll be too famous by proxy to come up here anymore if you come home to visit."
"I'm sure he'll still come to see you," Levi tells her with a cheesy wink.
Sadie laughs and takes Hunter's $20 bill to the register.
Everyone knows Sadie and I have fooled around on and off over the years. She's cute enough, and likes to have fun, but it never turned into anything more. There wasn't any kind of connection between us beyond sex. The sole thing we have in common is that we both worked at Roadrunners, and even that's about to end. She's more Hunter's type-into 4-wheeling and shooting animals.
"We don't have much going on until harvest," Hunter tells me, tipping his chin in Levi's direction. "Want us to come down after a few days? Maybe the three of us together could convince this actor she's seeing to take a hike."
I shake my head. "I'm not starting that kind of shit with your sister. And don't even think about asking me to spy on her, because I already promised her that's not what this is about. I'm there to help her, make sure no one's stalking her." After taking a drink, I hold my beer up to them. "But you fuckers are still welcome to crash at my place anytime as long as you remember I'm down there to work."
They clank their bottles against mine before we launch into a conversation about some chick Levi's been talking to online. I'm secretly counting down the hours until I can see Angie again.
The Uber driver parks the battered sedan in front of a modern white building overlooking the water. I lean forward to inspect it closer through the windshield. "Holy shit."
"A friend of yours lives here?" he assumes with a quiet chuckle. "They're living the good life … that's for sure."
Instead of correcting him, I nod along. I'm used to a modest way of life, and being proud that I could afford a low mortgage. Telling people I live in a place this fancy won't be easy.
The old man lifts his gray eyebrows. "Need help with your luggage?"
Chuckling quietly, because the guy can't weigh more than a buck and a quarter, I shake my head. "I've got it." I fish a ten dollar bill out of my wallet and hand it to him. As much as Charlie's paying me, I can afford to be a little nicer to people like this dude who told me his wife was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's. "Thanks for the ride, Victor. Take care."
After grabbing my suitcase and duffel bag from the trunk, I head into the lobby. It's even more pretentious than the outside, covered in white marble and white leather furniture. I introduce myself to the manager on duty as the new tenant. She appears baffled until I explain I'm also the new head of Angie's security. I imagine most of my neighbors will be millionaires.
The 30-something year old woman gives me a detailed tour of the property before handing her business card over, and leaving me outside my new apartment. She offered to show me features inside the unit, but I wanted to take it in on my own.