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But we don’t have to play by all their rules.
Chapter Ten
Creed
“She was cute. Don’t you think?” Anderson slurs from beside me in the back of the SUV, his chief protection officer, Captain Xavier Green, navigating the mostly vacant streets after three in the morning.
To say it’s been quite a day would be putting it mildly. I’d spent the afternoon with Anderson at the football stadium, watching our hometown team beat one of the top teams in the division in an incredible fourth quarter comeback. Riding the high from the win, he wanted to celebrate with the rest of the city. So we went to a local pub, which I’m sure Xavier hated. But part of being a royal guard means catering to the last-minute whims of the royal family, most notably Anderson’s reputation for wanting to party at every possible opportunity.
And that’s precisely what Xavier did, securing an area in a local pub, then a nightclub when Anderson decided he wanted to go dancing.
Most people would love being friends with someone with these connections. Not me.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Anderson like I do my own brother.
But now that we’re adults, things are different.
It’s awkward to have the men who will be my colleagues in a few weeks offer me the same protection services I’ll soon be providing.
Like I don’t belong on this side of things.
Which is what I’ve reminded myself of since Esme’s proposition. That I don’t belong in her world.
But when footage of some black-tie charity event flashed on the TVs, Jameson and Esme displayed in a passionate locking of lips, I would have given anything to belong in her world.
Seeing them kiss on national TV, then listening to so many people in the bar comment about what a beautiful couple they make, irritated me. Made me want to order an entire bottle of scotch so I could drown the animosity raging inside of me.
It won’t change anything, though.
Not now that Esme and Jameson have confirmed the rumors that they’re together.
Even if I weren’t about to be sworn into the guard, I never had a chance with her. Not when she needs to be with someone like Jameson Gates.
When she deserves to be with someone like Jameson Gates.
“Which one is that?” I ask Anderson.
“The one with the long legs.”
I give him a sardonic look. “They all had long legs. Pretty sure that’s one of your most stringent requirements. ‘Must have long legs. Brains optional,’” I say, as if reciting a personal ad.
“No, it’s not.” He playfully punches my arm. “I’m more an ass man than anything. But I’m talking about the one in red. What was her name?” He leans his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes, concentrating as hard as he can in his inebriated state. “Carlie? Cammie? Cathy?”
I blow out a breath. “It was Alyse. Her name was Alyse.”
“Alyse. That’s it. I knew I was close.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure you were. Alyse and Carley, Cammie, and Cathy sound so much alike.”
“In my defense, I wasn’t really paying all that much attention to what she was saying. But how her lips moved. If you know what I mean.” He waggles his brows, but his slow reflexes make it look like he’s getting ready to nod off.
He probably is.
“So, what do you think? Should I call her?”
“They’ll want to do a background check first,” I tell him, needing to be the voice of reason. “And make sure she signs an NDA.”
“That’s bloody bullshite,” Anderson declares loudly.
