chase and foreplay when it’s just…so easy to get them in bed. A waste of my best pick-up lines.
Have I done it though? Yeah.
I’m not fucking perfect. Far from it.
So I’m staring at the Influencer-styled chick, and she’s asking me if I’m Oscar. And I go for the typical response.
“I am,” I say. “But I’m busy.”
“Can I just have a quick selfie?” She smiles and wags her cellphone seductively.
I shake my head, gaze planted on Charlie, but from the corner of my eye, I notice Jack returning, his confident stride and welcoming aura like a radiant beam of light. Even when I saw his morning wood on the plane and then his embarrassment, he managed to smile and keep cool.
The guy is unreal. Who wouldn’t want that kind of luminous joy in their life? He can’t be a part of yours, Oliveira.
My stomach twists.
Maybe I need to be more proactive in building barriers around my heart. And I can’t think of a better way to get over him than to give in to her.
“You know what,” I say. “Sure.”
Her face lights up, and she lifts her phone. Her hair smells like candy apples, but it’s not my favorite scent. She snaps the pic and examines the photo. “We look hot together.” Her grin expands. “Could I have your number? Maybe we could take more hot selfies sometime?”
She’s bold.
I like bold.
“Hey.” Jack steps close, two water bottles in hand. So that’s where he went. He casts me a quick glance, then one to the girl. Back and forth.
Her brows draw together. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Jack,” he says into a short nod, his smile gone. “Who are you?” That was cold for welcome-mat, red-carpet-entrance Jack Highland.
I’m staring more at him than her. He sounds jealous. I’d bet…five bucks on it.
“Everly Adams. I’m here for study abroad and ran into this handsome guy.” She winks up at me. “You know he’s Charlie Cobalt’s bodyguard?”
I look Jack over as he shifts his stance, more closed off to her. He tucks a water bottle under his armpit and uncaps the other. “I know him. Oscar is one of the best bodyguards in the entire fleet, but he’s on-duty—”
“Oh, I’ll be out of his hair in, like, a couple of seconds tops.” To me, she asks, “Think we could meet up later tonight?”
Jack chokes down water.
Now I’d bet a hundred bucks on it.
Before I can answer, Jack smoothly interjects, “We’re busy, actually. We have a shoot tonight.” He gestures to his camera and tries to fake a smile. My attraction hikes up when his fake smile comes out as a heated glare.
Christ, Highland.
She bristles and turns her back on him.
Even if I bet a grand on his jealousy, it doesn’t matter. I have a job to do, and it’s not thinking about fucking Jack.
I keep focus on Charlie. He’s still staring up at the sculpture.
“So…” Everly surveys my six-foot-two build. “About your number…?
“Yeah, sure.” I spout off my number but change the last digit. It’s a dick move, but I’m not in the mood to reject her in front of Jack.
I’ve felt what it’s like to be rejected, and I would’ve died if I had an audience when it happened.
After saving my number in her phone, she politely says, “It was nice to meet you.” Ignoring Jack, she skirts off.
Leaving me and him closer together. “A shoot tonight?” I question. “I didn’t think you were filming, Highland. It’s just prep.”
“It is,” he says more coolly. “I just thought you needed a wingman.” He hands me a water, the tension clear in his flexed biceps. “It’s not a big deal.”
Then why do you look so nervous?
I almost say that back, but instead, I go with, “I don’t know what your friends taught you in California, bro, but wingmen don’t run off potential hookups.” I touch my ear, but I remember I have no radio in Paris.
“She didn’t look like your type,” Jack says with the rake of his hand through his dark hair. His eyes sink into me, and my defenses rocket through the stratosphere.
“No offense, Long Beach, but I don’t think you know what my type is.”
His lips rise in a smile synonymous with a slow stroke of a cock. “Are you sure it’s not me?” He’s searching my gaze.
I think of all the ways I could shut him down:
It’s never been you.
My type is the opposite of you, Jack.
I wouldn’t fuck you if you were my last option.
Those ideas pulverize my insides. Hurting him