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Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The American Bodyguard

HUXLEY

I can tell from the pensive expression on Zainab’s face that she’s thinking hard about something. What it is, I don’t know.

Sharing a bed with her last night was… a head fuck.

I never expected myself to be comfortable enough to go to sleep. I thought I would lie awake all night, on edge about having someone so close to me.

That didn’t happen though. I was out like a light and slept solidly through the night. No nightmares.

Turns out all these years what I needed was Zainab next to me—either that or the orgasm wiped it out of me.

There’s so much for me to unpack. The way she is looking at me right now makes my chest tight with panic and warm with comfort at the same time.

I don’t ~do~ this. I don’t do warm cuddles and feelings and stuff that gets your heart broken.

The only people in the world that I have ever loved were my grandparents. I’m sure I loved my parents, but I don’t remember them. I haven’t loved another person in six years.

Zainab looks disappointed as I untangle myself from her body and sit up. I drag my hand down my face and run it through my hair.

“I’m going to shower, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replies, unable to hide the disappointment in her tone.

I need space to think. Having her so close with her soft, warm body and beautiful face and heady scent is driving me nuts.

We’re going to an event today, and I need to be on my A-game to protect her properly.

ZAINAB

He’s in the shower longer than normal. I breathe a sigh of relief when I finally hear the water turn off.

I’m not an idiot. I can tell that something is up with him.

From my experience with Griff, he is very closed-off about his feelings, yet I have started to get better at reading him.

This morning, we were in a good place, and then he got in his head.

I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he thought long and hard about something. I can only assume it’s to do with what happened between us last night.

I’ve changed our relationship, knocked us off kilter, and put him in a position I never wanted to happen.

I need to fix things, but my instincts are telling me that Griff needs time and space.

Today, I’ll back off for a bit. My brother is receiving an award, and I said I’d be there. I’ve already got my dress picked out.

I’m sure Griff will spend most of the day going over the exits and escape routes like he always does.

That’s why I’m surprised to find him in the kitchen later this morning. He’s laying out a load of ingredients on the kitchen island.

“What’s this?” I ask curiously.

His eyes glance up to take in the whole of my body—I love when he looks at me like that—and then back down to his phone, where he is clearly reading a list of some sort.

“We’re making Berger cookies. They’re a Baltimore favorite, and you need to try them,” he says simply.

I get the feeling that this might be an avoidance tactic so that we don’t have to talk about what happened. But as long as he is delaying and not shutting down the conversation, I don’t mind.

Besides, at least he is willingly spending time with me. He hasn’t holed up in his room and shut the door.

I busy myself with making us both coffee while Griff measures out the ingredients. He knows I find that part the most boring, and I’m touched that he’s doing it for me.

I make sure that I don’t touch him as I move around the room. I try to respect his space.

Neither of us is particularly hungry, so we focus on making the cookies rather than fixing breakfast.

Griff reads out the instructions as I mix the ingredients and follow them. Once the cookies are in the oven, I sort myself some breakfast.

“We should go through the plan for tonight.”

~Back to business.~

***

Griff drives us to the awards ceremony.

“I’ve made an appointment with my therapist,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Oh? That’s good.”

I love that he goes to therapy; it’s so healthy to have a guy open up.

“I want to get my head straight about what happened between us,” he explains. “Is it okay if I talk to my therapist about us?”

I scold my heart for stuttering at the word “us.”

“Of course. I might schedule an appointment myself.”

The car pulls up to the venue.

“We’re here. Let me check in first; then I’ll get the door for you.”

I wait in the car as Griff talks to a couple of security personnel. They all have matching solemn expressions. He nods, satisfied, and comes to get the door for me. I take his offered hand and step carefully out of the car.

Cameras flash as Griff escorts me inside and over to my brother’s table. All his friends are already seated and waiting with him.

Once I’m safe with my brother, Griff steps back and hovers at the edge of the room like all the other security staff.

For a brief moment, I imagine what it would be like to have him sit next to me, as my boyfriend rather than my bodyguard. I don’t know if he’d like attending events like this. It’s loud and chaotic.

“The fans are wild tonight,” Faisal says as we catch up. “Some of them tried to jump the barriers earlier.”

I shoot an anxious glance at Griff. If he’s heard about that, he’ll be breathing down my neck the whole night.

The ceremony is underway, and I applaud my brother as he walks up to collect his award.

After a couple of drinks, I need the toilet. I look around for Griff and find him across the room, conversing with another guard. I frown at the sight of him raising his hands and scowling. It’s clear he’s not pleased about something.

He’s obviously busy, so I turn to Mohammad.

“Hey, do you know where the toilets are?”

“Sure, I’ll show you.”

We get up and weave through the tables. As we go out the main hall and down the corridor, the noise from the stage dies down and is replaced by screaming and shouting.

I look at Mohammad in alarm. “Is that the fans outside?”

“Yeah, they’re on something tonight. Everyone’s going nuts.”

Mohammad points out the ladies’ room and waits outside.

I hang up my clutch and use the toilet. I wash my hands and start to tuck stray pieces of hair back into the clip that I’m wearing.

I jump in surprise when the door flies open with so much force that it bounces off the wall.

My racing heart calms somewhat at the sight of Griff.

“Griff? What are—”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he says angrily. “~Never~ go anywhere without telling me first!”

His fury startles me, and I take a step back. “I’m sorry. You were busy, and Mohammad—”

“I don’t give a fuck what I was doing. You are more important, Zainab. This crowd is getting out of control; we’re leaving now.”

He reaches out and gently but firmly grasps my wrist. I scoop up my clutch as he tugs me out of the bathroom.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I nearly trip over my own feet.

I look around for Mohammad but don’t see him.

“People are starting to jump the barriers. Your brother and his friends have already been escorted out.”

Griff’s tone is clipped. I can sense the tension in the way he grips my hand. He’s genuinely concerned, and that makes my adrenaline rise.

The situation is far more serious than I thought.

“This exit leads into the parking garage. Stay close to me.”

I don’t have an option. The ironlike grip he has on my wrist keeps me by his side.

My heart pounds as he pushes against the fire escape door and leads me to the back of the building with the dumpsters. I focus on the back of Griff’s head as he sets out a path to the SUV.

The moment he helps me inside and shuts the door, I breathe a sigh of relief. Down the alley, I can see the crush of people desperately trying to get inside.

~I hope no one gets hurt.~

Griff doesn’t speak as he reverses out of the car park and onto the street. I wait until my heart rate is back to normal before trying to talk to him.

“I’m sorry, Griff. I didn’t know the situation was so bad. I thought I was safe having Mohammad with me.”

His hands flex against the steering wheel, and a muscle ticks in his jaw. Eventually, he lets out a long breath.

“I want you to be safe, Zee. I can only do that if I know where you are. There is nothing wrong with having a friend take you to the bathroom, but you ~have~ to tell me first. I looked away for one minute, and when I turned back your chair was empty. You weren’t answering your phone, and I had to track it to the bathroom. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Guilt floods my body, and I drop my head. “I’m sorry,” I murmur. “It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right, it won’t,” he snaps, but there’s no heat to his words.

I look over at him, amazed that he is so dedicated to his job.

I get it now.

He’s not trying to control me. He’s only trying to protect me.

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