Page 38 of The Forbidden Bodyguard

Her words have been haunting me. I should have fucking kissed her, made love to her, told her I’d help her make a different decision. Perhaps she truly doesn’t think she does have a choice. But she does. Everyone always has a choice.

Unless you are locked up in prison.

There’s no ring on her hand, something I’ve been thinking about all week as she mooched around the house after our Art Gallery visit.

Over lunch one day, as she pushed her salad around her plate—we’d taken to eating together each day—I asked her what was on her mind.

“Life.” She smiled painfully. “And my story.”

“What’s it about?” I asked, forking chicken into my mouth.

“Well...” She gave up on the food and lifted her soda to her lips, taking a long sip. “It’s about a woman who lost her husband.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“She’s having trouble adjusting to life without him and finding herself.”

“Like my mom.” I lowered my fork. “Is that why we went to see the artist’s work?”

“No, that was a complete coincidence.”

I don’t believe in coincidences.

“My female character is a young woman. She fell in love and thought they’d have forever together.” Stella shared. “They hadn’t had children yet. So she doesn’t know who she is without him.”

I wondered if there was a parallel between this character and my mom. Age was one factor, but not always.

“How does it end?”

Stella shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s what is slowing me down. I usually have an inkling, but I can’t get into the mindset of what she’s going through.”

How could she?

Stella was twenty-five and, up until now, had her whole life in front of her, full of promise and hope.

“Have you been in love?” I asked before I could consider if that was appropriate to ask.

“Um...” She bit her lip and my cock reacted, telling me it wanted to join in this conversation.

Nope.

She’s not ours, buddy.

“No, I haven’t. What about you?” Doe eyes met mine.

I’m eleven years older than Stella. I’ve had a few relationships with beautiful women who, at times, I thought I might feel strongly about. But the truth is, I’d never been batshit crazy in love like I’d seen other guys.

“I don’t think so, no.”

The air around us felt charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on. As if possibility were opening up, and the world was showing us something.

I knew I had to shut it down.

Being in close proximity to Stella always felt like I was one misstep away from ripping her clothes off and finally getting a taste. Her fucking bedroom was upstairs and just one thought away.

If I made a move, she wouldn’t stop me.

If she did, I wouldn’t stop her, either.