AllFreeNovel
Share Us
After Layla’s English class, we head for the cafeteria in the student union to meet her friend for lunch. I like Charlene. She’s got a good, solid mom vibe about her, and I think she’s good for Layla. I don’t get the feeling she’s after anything. Those other two girls who were fawning over Layla in her anatomy class seemed a bit suspect to me. And don’t get me started on the big blond guy. He strikes me as an entitled ass, and I think he’s just looking for arm candy.
As I follow Layla into the cafeteria, she heads straight for the deli counter, getting in line behind several people. As I wait with her, I notice a lot of people stealing glances at her, trying not to be obvious that they’re staring. This poor girl can’t go anywhere without getting stared at. It sure takes some getting used to. I’ve never had a client who had so little privacy.
On impulse, I lay my hand on the back of her neck and gently squeeze. She’s so tense, her muscles bound taut. I massage the back of her neck, trying to loosen those tense muscles, until she rolls her head back and groans with pleasure.
“That feels so good,” she murmurs.
We’re both enjoying this a little too much. It started out innocently enough, but when she groaned like that, my dick responded in a very inappropriate way.
Instantly, I release her, and when my fingers brush accidentally against her ponytail, electricity snakes up my arm to the base of my skull, and I shiver.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to hell for that.
“So, what are you getting?” I ask, hoping to redirect my thoughts. I’m still learning her likes and dislikes. I know she likes strawberries and sparkling water.
She rattles off a well-practiced answer. “A grilled chicken wrap on a low-carb tortilla with cheese and veggies, with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing. And a bottle of unsweetened tea. I brought my own packet of Stevia.”
“Good choices.”
“What about you?”
I glance around at the well-stocked café. They’ve got everything from burgers to pizza to sushi. “I’ll probably grab a burger and fries. And a water.”
I’m reminded to check her blood sugar level. I grab my phone and take a look at the monitoring app. The level’s heading downward, but it’s nothing to worry about, especially since she’s about to eat.
I catch sight of a guy staring at her from across the cafeteria. He looks a bit starstruck, like he caught sight of a celebrity.Yeah, buddy, I get it. She’s a knock-out. Move on.
Layla’s a complicated client, that’s for sure. I’ve got guys staring at her because she’s gorgeous. I’ve got people snapping pics of her left and right because of her notoriety. And then there’s Reese. I could tell from Layla’s body language that she really didn’t know how to answer the guy. Was it because she wasn’t interested and didn’t know how to turn him down? Or was it because she was interested, but she didn’t know how to say yes?
Layla seems pretty sheltered, and she appeared to be a bit shell-shocked when Reese asked her out for coffee. Given her history, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s never dated before. And that makes my protective instincts jack up to a whole new level. Reese strikes me as a frat boy with a big ego, and if that’s the case, he’s barking up the wrong tree.
After Layla grabs a tray and gets her chicken wrap, I carry the tray over to the burger station and grab a double burger and some fries for myself. We hit the refrigerated beverage cases and grab our drinks.
While we’re standing in line at the check-out, Layla spots Charlene entering the building. The two wave at each other, and Charlene goes off to grab her food. When the cashier rings up our purchase, I reach for my wallet to pay for our lunches, but Layla beats me to it.
“I’ll get it,” she says as she hands the cashier her student ID card. “I keep money on my student cash card,” Layla explains. “So I don’t have to use a credit card.” She leans close to whisper. “I don’t want to risk having a credit card stolen.”
I wonder what kind of limit is on her credit card. I’m sure it’s astronomical.
I don’t say anything as the cashier checks us out. I can’t have her paying for my meals. If anything, I should be the one paying. I can always expense the charges. But she shouldn’t be paying forme. It doesn’t feel right.
I follow Layla to a table for four by a window overlooking a flower garden. We’ve barely gotten seated when Charlene joins us. She takes the chair across from Layla, closest to the window. Layla has the window seat, and I sit next to her.
“So, Jason,” Charlene says, addressing me directly for the first time. “You’re a bodyguard.” She winks at Layla, who’s grinning as she sips her tea.
“I am,” I say. “And you’re a college student.”
Charlene nods as if to say touché. “So glad we got that cleared up. How are you liking UChicago?”
“From what I’ve seen so far, it’s impressive.” I stick a fry in my mouth and chew. “What’s your major?”
“Psychology. I plan to be a mental health counselor.”
“Jason’s a former Army combat medic,” Layla says.
Charlene’s eyes widen. “Wow. Combat? Real combat?”
I nod. “One tour in Afghanistan.”
