Page 23 of Forced Proximity

Doc leans over and pats my hand but whips it back like she burned herself.

Did she just touch my hand? That was unexpected. And is her skin as soft as it seems? It was a whisper of a second, but it seared a small, warm print into my skin.

She clears her throat. ‘Well, he seems nice. You’re lucky to have such good friends.’

And then, she doesn’t say a word for the entire rest of the ride.

Chapter 10

Lexi

I cannot believe I patted his fucking hand.

For the rest of the week, I could not let the visual go. The look on Justin’s face, and body language in the SUV, seemed so profoundly sad, or deflated. Whatever it was, it struck a chord, and I had the urge to comfort him. Even though he made zero reaction to my touch, I crossed a line. Maybe, hopefully, he didn’t notice.

After I pull up to Justin’s house, Jack steps outside, gives me a signature nod and opens his memo book. Jack’s ex-military, ex-cop, and even though he’ll go to the grave admitting it, I think he carries that thing around like a security blanket. ‘Not much to report today,’ he says without looking at his open notepad. As usual. ‘No packages. No emails. The principal did seem agitated after his phone rang several times in a row, but he sent each call to voicemail. I did not inquire who was on the other end.’

‘You know, you can call him Justin, right, and not “the principal”?’ I say, curving up my lips into a teasing grin. ‘I promise I won’t tell him.’

Jack would never smile at a joke. It’d ruin his image. But the tiniest flick of light passes through his eyes. ‘Rules rule.’

I put my hand to my chest. ‘Oh my God, did you just … say a joke?’ At least a Jack version of a joke.

‘I don’t joke,’ he says.

I’m not sure I believe him.

After we finish our debrief, I step into the house for the last shift of the second week of work. Justin peeks out of the sitting room with a tiny glint in his eyes and I’m momentarily distracted by a soft zing. Dammit. I cannot be distracted. I will not be distracted. After what happened last time when I was unfocused … I push my thumb into the scar on my shoulder and move to the kitchen.

His sneakered footsteps follow me closely. ‘Hey, Doc, I need to say something to you.’

Shit. He’ll say I invaded his boundaries earlier this week when I touched his hand, and I can’t blame him. Ugh. Awkward. I’ve dealt with worse before, but still. I square my backbone and face him, ready to apologize and assure him nothing like that will happen again. ‘What’s up?’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever said thanks.’ He stuffs his hands into his pockets. ‘I know it’s your job and all, but I appreciate you being here. It’s got to be boring as hell watching me all day. My image online shows I’m way more exciting than I actually am. As you can clearly see, I’m relatively boring.’

I slowly release the air I’m holding. ‘Oh, come on. You’re not that bad.’ I fill my water bottle from the fridge. ‘For real, it’s okay. This is not a bad gig. Someday I’ll tell you about a certain diplomat I guarded for a weekend. Along with his wife. And girlfriends. You would not believe how he talked to the women, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I daydreamed for a month about putting him in an armbar.’

He laughs and reaches for an orange. ‘Wait, what’s an armbar?’

‘It’s a highly effective self-defense move,’ I say. ‘You basically isolate an arm for control.’

‘Do you try and break it?’ He asks as he rolls the orange with his palm against the counter.

‘Depends on how bad the situation is.’ I grin at his raised eyebrows. ‘But no, not usually. It’s so effective that people usually stop what they’re doing immediately.’

‘So, you just grab it?’ The scent of citrus bursts in the room and he hands me a slice. ‘How do they not get away?’

I pop the fruit in my mouth and chew. ‘Want me to show you?’

‘Are you kidding?’ he says, and I almost laugh at the way his face lights up. ‘Absolutely.’

As hard as it is, I avoid skipping down the stairs to the gym. Even though this room is part of my sweep, I’m always shocked when I enter. The digital weight machines, treadmills, bike and elliptical, surrounded by a wall of mirrors, are always pristine. The gym at Marcus’s office smells like sweat and hot breath. Justin’s almost smells like grapefruit and cedar.

I dig into my inside waistband holster to unlatch my firearm and set it on the side table. On the center mat, energy spikes my limbs. Teaching moves is almost as invigorating as performing them. Teaching a man like Justin, who towers over me and weighs a good fifty pounds more, is even better.

‘Where do you want me?’ He rubs his hands together.

‘Let’s start with some floor work. You’ll be the person attacking me, and I’ll show you how I get out of it.’ I lay on my stomach and put my arms above my head. ‘Straddle me and put your hands around my neck like you’re choking me.’