* * *
After coffee,I made some eggs—Agent Davis declined the food—and then set myself up in my bedroom with my books and notecards and did what I had to do. It sucked knowing he was only a few feet away, and I had him for the entire day, but school came first. It wasn’t like he was my boyfriend or anything, anyway.
A few times, he checked on me to see if I needed anything, but for the most part, Agent Davis sat in my living room. I’d tried to warn him that being on my detail would be boring.
For dinner, I took a break, and we ordered Chinese. We got enough for all the guys on shift, and after we ate, I took a shower. I felt restless and wanted to do something. It had been a while since I’d been to Chrome—the gay nightclub my friend Tyler introduced me to—and I was itching to go out and dance. To let loose.
Maybe it was because my time with Declan the night before had been a bust, but I felt as though I needed some sort of release. Not necessarily fucking, but something to burn off my energy.
While I could easily go to the gym, I was curious to see if Agent Davis and the others would go to a gay club or try to talk me out of it.
Walking back into the living room, I sat down on the couch next to Agent Davis and stared up at the ceiling as I leaned my head against the back. “So, am I supposed to ask you if I can do things, or do I just tell you?”
We turned our heads to face each other.
“You just tell me.”
“Great.” I jumped up. “We’re going to a club.”
“Wait. What?” He stood.
“It’s almost eleven, and the club is just getting busy. We’re going dancing.”
“Fallon …”
“Rhett …”
His name hung in the air as we stared at each other, but he didn’t correct me. “Are you serious right now?”
“I am.”
“Okay.” He headed for the front door. “Let me tell the guys and we’ll make it happen.”
“Thank you.”
Just before he reached the door, he faced me again. “I don’t mind you calling me Rhett, but don’t do it in front of the other agents, okay?”
“Okay.” I beamed and turned on my heels toward the bedroom to change.
* * *
Agent Vance drove,Agent Shea rode shotgun, and Agent Davis and I sat in the back of the black SUV. It was the first time I was driven somewhere in a Secret Service vehicle with my security team, and it really sank in that I had bodyguards. It almost made me feel like a celebrity, which, I had to admit, was pretty exciting.
Once Agent Vance pulled up in front of Chrome, I was told to stay put while Agent Davis and Agent Shea did whatever they needed to do to make sure I could get into the club safely. After they gave the all clear—whatever that meant—Agent Davis returned to the vehicle and opened the back passenger door.
I slid out, and with him by my side and Agent Shea following us, we walked into the club. There was no showing the bouncer at the door my ID. Instead, we were waved through, people looking and whispering and probably wondering who the hell I was. Or maybe there was a small chance they knew, given my dad was the next president of the United States.
“Do you dance?” I hollered over the music as we walked toward the bar.
Rhett’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Don’t you dare.”
“But what if I’m in danger on the dance floor?”
“Trust me. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
We stopped at the bar and waited for someone to step aside so I could move up and order. Agent Shea stayed near the door, his eyes scanning the place.
“But I can dance?” I asked.
