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“Damn it, Callie,” he said, squeezing my hands. “I remember that night, alright? I remember the way it felt when you fell back against me. I remember your stupid little karate chop. I remember every detail of how you looked in that fucking cocktail dress. And you were just as distracting while I was trying to do my job.”
I couldn’t breathe for a second. “You remember?”
“How the hell could I forget someone like you? From the first glimpse of you in that ballroom, I could barely do my damn job. All I could think about was getting to know you better after the gala.” He let go of my hands and took a step back. “Until I found out who you were.”
“I don’t understand. Why did you—”
“Why the hell do you think I quit that cushy job protecting your father?”
“He said city life wasn’t for you.”
He made a sound between a snort and a laugh. “I couldn’t very well tell him the truth. That all I’d have been able to think about was getting his daughter into my bed.”
Hearing those words sent a rush of heat straight down my body. “Blake—”
“I left because I couldn’t afford that kind of distraction. You were twentyandthe boss’ daughter. I knew you were off-limits. Nothing’s changed.”
I swallowed hard. “Nothing?”
He bit his bottom lip. “It’s harder now. I’m trying not to get emotionally attached, and getting to know you is only making it harder. The flirting has to stop.”
I took that as a compliment, something to cheer me up even though I was unhappy that our relationship was going to remain bodyguard/protectee and nothing more.
“Then I’m sorry. Sorry for making it difficult. I’ll stop. I’ll give you your space.”
He nodded, and after a few more seconds of staring, he sighed. We started walking toward his house.
Part of me was elated that he’d remembered. Part of me wanted to cry that my five-year fantasy really was impossible. When we broke into a slow jog, I fell behind when the path narrowed like he wanted me to, and I at least had the view of his amazing ass to distract me.
10
BLAKE
The last thingI intended to do was have some sort of confessional breakdown on our run. Now she knew I wanted her the night we met. She knew I’d quit to avoid the distraction. The temptation.
Worse, she knew I was even more tempted than before.
To her credit, she did rein in the flirting. She kept herself occupied with rehearsing in the basement and reading or doing whatever she did in her bedroom. She even ate there.
She was doing exactly what I asked her to.
I fucking hated it.
All along, I’d known the situation was difficult for her. I’d already felt guilty because I knew I could have been friendlier and spent more time with her. If she’d been almost anyone else, I could have done it.
I only avoided her because I wanted her so fucking much, I sometimes felt like I was barely able to keep myself in check around her.
It was bad enough that I couldn’t stop thinking about it. But if I gave in to what I wanted, the distraction would be too much. That kind of personal involvement made a person sloppy. It caused stupid decisions. It overrode instincts and common sense.
I knew that much from experience.
A faded image of Rosa flashed in my mind. We’d been so young, just in our early twenties. She was so beautiful, I could barely believe she’d look my way, let alone be my girl.
I thought I was going to marry her. Maybe I would have if things had turned out differently.
If I hadn’t let my emotions get in the way when she needed me the most.
I heard Callie’s steps on the stairs. I glanced that way to see her turn to go down to the basement. She gave me a tight smile and headed down to rehearse.
