Page 141 of Rush

He chuckles.

“I’ll show you around Chicago and moonlight as your bodyguard. No one will suspect a thing.”

He’s bigger than Chris by over a foot. He’d blend right in. Lord knows his size alone is intimidating enough.

I bark a laugh. “What? Broderick—is work slow? You’re really going to play hooky to show me around Chicago?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, just two friends…” He leans down to the shell of my ear and whispers, “Who fuck like champions.” He straightens again. “Enjoying the delights of Chicago. Plus, I might know my way around—what do you say?” he asks, extending a hand to me.

I swat his hand away. “No holding hands—it’s against the rules,” I say, walking past him.

“Pray tell, where inourrules is that stipulated?” he teases, falling into step beside me.

“Well, if I recall, Mark had some pretty strict guidelines. An oversight on his part if he forgot to email it to you. Should’ve been part of the security onboarding pack.”

“All right, whatever you say, boss.”

Giving Tony the morning off, Chris accompanies us and drives to a nearby café, where—for once—we enjoy a frisk-free breakfast. I dive into a plate of syrup-drenched waffles and chase it with a much-needed iced coffee.

After breakfast, Broderick takes me to Millennium Park to see The Bean—touristy, yes, but iconic all the same. He plays his part, humoring me by snapping a million photos while I marvel at a giant silver sculpture that, if I’m honest, looks suspiciously like a clitoral vibrator.

He even volunteers as photographer for a couple of fans who spot me, flashing them a charming grin as he frames the shot.

From there, he guides me along the Chicago Riverwalk, pointing out several skyscrapers his company has built or owns. The way he speaks—animated, confident, alive with passion for design and innovation—stirs something in me. I find myself in awe, not just of the structures but of him: his knowledge, his accomplishments.

We talk about a few more destinations to add to my travel bucket list—which quickly turns into Broderick recounting all the places he’s been and now promises to take me to.

Standing beside him, I feel small. Not just in size—but in experience.

Unworldly.

My life, until recently, has been narrow in scope.

How little I’ve seen.

How little I’ve dared.

Without him, I probably would’ve asked Chris to drive me around so I could take pictures through the car window. Left to my own devices, I might have retreated to my hotel room to bury myself in a song draft or lose myself in a book. But with Broderick, I’m outside my comfort zone—and grateful for it.

His phone rings just as we reach Pequod’s Pizzeria. Which he claims is the best in town.

“Hey, Eli,” he answers easily. A pause, then his brow arches. “Oh, did she now?”

He chuckles, his voice low and warm, while I watch him talk to whoever Eli is.

“Alright, yes—yes, I want to meet her. Let me confirm, and I’ll text you, okay?” Broderick says before hanging up.

“Everything okay?” I ask, fiddling with the cuff of my sweater, wondering whohermight be. I know I shouldn’t even feel jealous, but I do.

Broderick makes me feel something I don’t quite have the right to—possessive.

“That was Elijah, my brother. I think I told you about him at the wedding?”

I nod.

He tilts his head. “He contacted my office, and Stacey may have let it slip that I was in town.”

I remember him mentioning that Elijah’s wife just had a baby—could that be who he meant byher?