Chapter 5

ZAINAB

When Reagan or another guard comes to the gym with me, I barely notice them. They do their own workouts, and they regularly look over and check that I’m good, but other than that I’m in the zone.

The same cannot be said for Huxley.

From the moment I get into the Range Rover with him, my body is on high alert. I feel wired, like I’ve drunk too much caffeine. I’m aware of every sound, even my own breathing.

My new bodyguard is dressed in a huge gray hoodie and short shorts that show off the array of tattoos on his shins and thighs.

His calf muscles are the size of a professional cyclist’s, and don’t even get me started on the size of his trainers; his feet are ~enormous~.

I’m half tempted to put my foot next to his to compare.

It only takes a few minutes for Huxley to be signed up at the gym. The staff member starts to ask him if he needs an orientation session, but she quickly trails off when she takes in the sight of him.

“Maybe not,” she chuckles.

“I’ll be fine,” he replies politely.

I show him the main area and put my things in a locker.

He peels off his giant hoodie, revealing a T-shirt that shows off his big arms. They’re covered in tattoos too; go figure.

Honestly, I can’t see this man being anything other than a bodyguard. He looks built to be a bouncer. Maybe he could be a bodybuilder or MMA fighter.

“How’s your shoulder?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I’m still careful with it, but I can train.”

“Good. I’ll, uh, meet you back here in an hour and a half?”

“That’s fine. Take your time.”

I go on the bike first for a little warm-up.

I can feel Huxley’s eyes on me; his gaze weighs heavier than Reagan’s. The few times we make eye contact, his expression is unreadable. He watches ~everything~, it seems.

As much as I like the attention, I know it’s just because he’s doing his job. He’s far more diligent than Reagan, not that Reagan ever slacked off. But I don’t think this man has an off switch.

It’s a bit annoying to have him so militant about protecting me.

~We’re in the gym, for God’s sake!~

After a few rounds of weights, I’m sweating and panting from exertion. My legs shake as I lower myself onto the bench by the lockers and down my water.

I watch Huxley finish his set; then he grabs his things and walks over to me. His eyes scan me over, and a small smile tugs at his full lips.

“You good?”

“I’m dying,” I croak.

“Not on my watch,” he replies with a smirk.

~Smirking and smiling? This man must love the gym; it’s bringing out a whole other side of him.~

“I need a long bath. Everything aches.”

“You need a sports massage,” he suggests as he pulls on his hoodie.

I’m disappointed that his tattoos are covered again; I enjoyed looking at them.

“Actually, we need to go to Faisal’s so we can swap cars. You don’t want to be in the drug dealer car anymore.”

Huxley laughs at my joke, and a smile spreads over my lips.

“Wow, the man laughs.”

His smile instantly drops from his face, and I feel bad for teasing him.

“I’m sorry; you’ve just been so stoic and professional. It’s nice to know that you can laugh,” I tell him, filling the awkward silence as we get into the car.

“You don’t have to be so guarded around me, you know. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. I want you to be comfortable around me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he clenches his jaw. I keep rambling, feeling awkward and unable to stop myself.

“Reagan and I had a great relationship. He was my friend as well as my bodyguard.” I look down at my hands in my lap. “I’d like us to have that, if it’s possible.”

Judging from his ironlike grip on the steering wheel, I don’t think that’s possible.

~He really doesn’t like me, does he?~

“Will your brother be home?” he asks, changing the topic completely.

I try not to feel offended and shrug in response. If he wants to sit in uncomfortable silence, we can do that.

We leave the Range Rover outside Faisal’s house and get into the SUV. Huxley takes us home. I close my eyes, eagerly thinking of the bath waiting for me at home. I’m going to use my new Epsom salts.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” Huxley asks out of nowhere.

I open my eyes. We’re only a couple of blocks away from my building.

“No. I’ll probably just read this afternoon.”

“In your office?”

“Maybe. Sometimes I like to read in the living room in the afternoon because the sun comes in.” I glance out of the window. There are no clouds today.

“Unless you want to watch TV or something.”

“I think I’ll read too,” he responds, surprising me.

“What kind of books do you like?”

He pulls into the underground carpark.

“It sounds cliché, but I’ll read anything. I like historical nonfiction, stuff that covers the Civil War.”

I pull a face. “I know nothing about the American Civil War.”

“Really? Do they not teach it at school in England?”

“No, we only learned about the World Wars.”

He parks and we get out of the car. I’m keen to keep talking to him, and books seem like a safe topic.

“What else do you like? Historical romance?” I can’t help teasing him as we walk into the lift.

He turns up his nose. “What is that? Like ~The Duke Ripped my Bodice~?”

I laugh at his example title. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Then no, not my thing. I like autobiographies by interesting people. I’ve read the odd one on celebrities; they’re all right. I prefer ones about sporting legends and scientists.”

“Yeah, I like autobiographies. I like thrillers.”

The door opens and we step into the foyer, but he makes no move to cut our conversation short.

“I prefer reading horrors to watching them,” I add.

“I get that. I enjoyed ~The Shining~.”

My smile widens. “That’s on the shelf in your room.”

He gives me a half smile. “Might have to reread it.”

There’s a moment of silence. I hold my bag to my chest.

“Well, I’m going to have a bath if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure.”

I grab my robe and head into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I sit on the edge of the tub as it fills with water, my mind on one thing only.

~Jake Huxley. My American bodyguard.~