“Well, I don’t regret it.” He holds my gaze, unflinching. “Not one bit. You want honesty? It was the most real thing I’ve felt in years.”
My grip tightens on the cup. “That doesn’t make it right.”
“Right according to what? Some bodyguard code of ethics?” He takes a sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. “We’re both adults. I’m not some naive kid you took advantage of.”
“I’m nine years older than you.”
“And? I’m twenty-two.” He sets his cup down with a soft click against the marble. “Besides, I was practically begging for it.”
Heat crawls up my neck at the memory. Wyatt on his knees, eyes glazed with want, my hand in his hair. I force it down, lock it away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m supposed to protect you, not…”
“Not see me as a person? Treat me like an adult? Let me make my own choices?”
“Notfuckyou.”
Wyatt’s expression doesn’t change. “We didn’tfuck.”
“You know what I mean.”
He crosses his arms. “From where I’m standing, what happened between us was the first time you treated me like an equal instead of some burden you’re stuck babysitting.”
I take a sip of coffee to buy myself time. It’s strong and bitter, exactly how I like it. “Look, I don’t want to leave this job.”
“Good. Because I don’t want you to.”
That catches me off guard. “You’ve been trying to get me fired since the day we met.”
“Things change.” He shrugs. “Perspectives shift.”
I study him, looking for the trap. The spoiled brat I’ve been guarding for two weeks wouldn’t be this reasonable. Wouldn’t be up at eight making coffee and wearing gym clothes.
“Why did you take three days off?” he asks suddenly.
I wasn’t expecting the direct question. “I needed to clear my head.”
“And did you clear it?”
“Yes.” It’s not entirely a lie. Three days of punishing physical training, of barely sleeping, of going over every second of what happened between us. I’m clearer now than I was. Not necessarily better, but clearer.
“Good. Then let’s establish some ground rules.” He straightens up, all business now. “One, what happened between us stays between us. No one else needs to know.”
“Agreed.” That’s a given. If anyone found out, my career would be over.
“Two, I’ll stop trying to get you fired if you stop treating me like I’m twelve.”
I arch an eyebrow. “I treat you like you’re twelve because you act like it.”
“Then I’ll stop acting like it.” He says it so simply, like changing years of behavior is just a matter of deciding to.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He meets my gaze evenly. “I’m capable of growth, you know. Give me a chance to prove it.”
Something in his tone makes me believe him. Or maybe I just want to believe him. Either way, I nod. “Fine. What else?”
“Three, no more…incidents like Saturday. You’re right—it complicates things.”
I blink, surprised he’s the one suggesting this. “I thought you didn’t regret it.”
