Page 22 of Forced Proximity

My neck tightens. ‘Jesus Christ, man. No, I’m not sleeping with her.’ Doc is beautiful. She lights up a room and appears oblivious, or at least totally unaffected, to people’s reactions. Strong, black ponytail, these incredible eyes that are a perfect mix of whiskey brown and chocolate, and gorgeous full lips. Spectacular lips, in fact. With a cupid-bow shape and a natural plum shade, I noticed her lips the first time we met, although we got off on such a bad foot that I almost forgot about them. Almost. ‘She’s a staff member for God’s sake. That’s probably illegal. Besides, we don’t get along that well.’

Conner leans forward on his elbows. ‘Seriously? I mean, what’s not to get along with? She might be trying to hide it in those cargo pants, but there’s no way you didn’t notice her phenomenal ass.’

‘Enough,’ I hiss. And I hate myself, because, yes, of course I’ve noticed her ass. But I swear, I only looked once or twice.

‘Christ, okay, I’m just playing.’

I peek at Doc. What the hell is she doing? She digs in her bag, then shifts quickly so her back is to me and stares at her stomach. When she swivels back to where she can see both me and the café entrance, she catches my eyes and freezes. Something flashes in her face that I can’t read. Embarrassment, maybe?

‘What can I get for you?’ the server asks while opening her notepad. When she glances at me, her mouth falls open. ‘Oh my God. Justin Greenwood! I can’t believe you’re at one of my tables. I seriously love your movies so much.’

Shit. Not today. I absolutely do not have the energy for this. ‘Aww, thank you.’ I flash a smile and pray no one is listening. ‘That’s really nice of you to say.’

‘My manager will kill me, but can we take a selfie later?’ Red blooms across her cheeks and she rises to her tiptoes.

A picture is the very last thing I want to do right now. For one day, all I want is to eat a meal outside of my house in total peace. ‘Absolutely. Just tell your manager that I’m the one who asked for the selfie, not the other way around.’

After we order, Conner shoves a straw in his drink. ‘Dude. Doesn’t that annoy the fuck out of you?’

Sometimes, yes. ‘Nah, she’s sweet.’ When I was thirteen, I met my idol, a former 49er’s quarterback who was a complete dick, and it crushed me. The first time a fan rushed me, giddy and stumbling over their words, I vowed to never treat them the way the football player treated me. ‘Besides, it’s not like she’s a dude at the urinal next to me asking for a pic.’

‘True.’ Conner digs his cell phone out of his pocket and sets it on the table. ‘Did you catch the game on Sunday? What were they thinking? Going for it on fourth down in the third quarter. Rookie mistake if you ask me.’

An hour passes of us chatting about sports. When I stand, Doc immediately lifts to her feet. I give her a quick nod, acknowledging that I remember the rules: she exits first, scans the surrounding area, then I lead as she follows close behind.

I still hate it. But after a week of being with Doc, I get the distinct feeling that she’s been disrespected in the past and has a zero-level barometer for bullshit when it comes to people following her rules. So, for now, I’ll follow.

Outside, I blink against the sun and try not to elbow Conner in the ribs as he inches towards Doc and stretches. For God’s sake, is he seriously flexing? Fourteen years since we roomed together at USC and not much has changed.

‘So, Doc.’ Conner drops his arm. ‘Justin tells me you’ve been working for him for about a week, now, right?’

She thumbs her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. ‘Yep, starting our second week.’

Well, shit. I think I just witnessed a miracle. Doc said this with a hint of a grin. ‘She’s keeping me out of trouble.’

‘We’ll need you around when we go out. I’m the one that throws Justin into trouble. He’s the one trying to get me out of it.’ Conner smirks and rubs his hands together. ‘Well, Justin, it’s a tough life you lead. Forced to be protected by a beautiful woman—’

‘Okay, time to head out.’ I slap him on the chest with a warning shot.

We say our goodbyes and I slide into the waiting SUV. After we buckle, I peek at Doc. I want to ask her more questions about her family, and Minnesota and how she got into this job. But it seems like the bit she gave me earlier is all I’m going to get for today, and I don’t want to push it.

Doc digs out her phone and sets it in the console. ‘Hey, when the server was fangirling you earlier, I made a decision not to step in because it looked like you could handle yourself.’

I chuckle. ‘Thank you for trusting me with a five-foot-nothing twenty-year-old.’

A quick grin flashes. ‘I just know that sometimes you don’t want fans approaching you, and we don’t want another situation where you nearly flatten a guy like that one video.’

Oh Christ. I know exactly what video she’s talking about. The whole ‘celebrities behaving badly’ is clickbait, but how that particular video blew up so much is beyond me. ‘Sorry about Conner,’ I say, switching the subject. ‘He can be a lot sometimes.’

‘It’s not a big deal. He doesn’t seem too bad.’ She loops her thumb around the seatbelt strap. ‘How long have you guys known each other?’

‘About fourteen years. We played ball together at USC. He usually comes with me when I go out.’

She lifts a brow. ‘Part of your entourage?’

I don’t say anything. I don’t have it in me to explain something that took me years to understand – I have a tough time forming connections, whether in relationships or friendship. Whenever I meet someone new, I scan people like a CIA analyst. I look for any potential red flags and stand guard like a pitbull protecting myself. Honestly, I’m not even sure if me and Conner are friends, or just people who spend time together.

‘Yeah, something like that,’ I finally say. A heaviness sinks into me, and I swing my gaze out the window.