it hurt. Hot anger rises and I snap, “That was fucked up.”
“I know.” His eyes redden. “I know. I shoved a bowl of Instant Regret in the microwave, Sul. I’ve been eating the thing the entire time Farrow stitched me.”
I glance at his bandaged elbow. “I’m glad you got stitches.”
His face twists, seeing that I’m still upset. “Sulli—”
“That’s all you are to me,” I say angrily. “A bodyguard and a friend.”
Akara looks like he could fall to his knees in despair.
“And if you were anyone else,” I continue, “you’d be out of my life right now, you know that? I’ve let you make me feel so fucking hurt and angry.”
“I’m sorry.” He’s near tears. “I’m sorry. Please, I don’t want to lose you.” His Adam’s apple bobs, his fingers thread through his hair.
My eyes burn with emotion. Maybe I’ve been too hard on too many people. Maybe I’m too hard on Akara right now. I want to stick up for myself, but I also don’t want to be incapable of forgiveness.
“I know it was a slip,” I say softly, and he eases a little. “But why was it so easy for you to say that to them?”
He comes closer. “Because I’ve said it too many times before, and I believed it then.”
“Are you sure you don’t believe it now?”
He chokes on a pained noise. “Yes.” He gives me a horrified look. “We…” He lowers his voice, close enough that his hand brushes my fingers. “We hooked up. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t have feelings for you, Sul.”
“You warned me you’re a dick,” I remind him.
“I’m not that kind of dick.” Akara clasps his hand around mine. I let him, as he says, “I’m the dick who isn’t thinking about emotions, just logical tactics—and I regret it. I never want to hurt you like that, Sulli.”
I breathe in, and I curve my arms around his waist. He hugs me. I listen to his heartbeat and his soft apologies in my ear.
Since we’re not hidden behind the corkboard, the embrace doesn’t last long. Akara motions Banks over, and I can tell Akara is frustrated by something else too.
“Why was Oscar pressing me so hard about her?” Akara asks Banks. Hearing them talk about other bodyguards in front of me is always super fucking interesting.
Banks fixes his earpiece. “You know why. It’s always been too easy to bust your balls by bringing up Sulli.”
Akara pinches his eyes. “The fucking Yale boys, man.” He drops his hand. “They’re too talkative and observant.”
Banks bounces his head.
I frown. “You guys don’t think they’ll figure out what’s going on between us?”
Akara is still fuming. “If they keep bugging me about you, maybe.”
As the sun rises and tension builds, the cold recedes. Body heating up, I tie my jean jacket around my waist.
“And the baby,” Akara vents. “Every time I look at that baby, all I can think is, Baby Needs A Bodyguard—like a printed poster across my eye sockets. But no, Farrow and Maximoff don’t want a bodyguard for the baby. They can protect their kid themselves.” He looks to me. “Which I don’t completely understand, considering Maximoff had a bodyguard when he was a baby.”
“I didn’t really have a 24/7 bodyguard until I was older,” I tell him. “So I get it.”
Akara looks to Banks for back-up.
“Baby needs a bodyguard,” Banks nods in agreement.
“Exactly,” Akara says, their eyes on me as they team up against me.
“I’m not sure I love the whole you two versus me thing, but weirdly, I don’t hate it. Probably because I know I can kick your asses.”
Banks laughs like that’s wholly untrue, and now I really want to test out kicking his ass. I’m about to ask how much he can bench-press.
But Akara tells me, “It’s not us versus you, string bean.”
Banks goes to wrap an arm across my shoulders the same time that Akara goes in—and their forearms knock together.
They glare at each other. Hands drop to their sides.
Quickly, I add, “I also don’t like Akara versus Banks—that is the fucking worst matchup.” While they’re on either side of me, I curve one arm around Akara’s waist and the other around Banks’. Squeezing them closer to me.
They ease.
“We’re cool, Sul,” Akara assures me.
Banks nods.
I touch their lower backs, and their gazes roam over me in a sweltering beat. It’s really fucking hot out here. I retract my hands and retighten the knot of my jacket on my waist. And I reroute to the other topic. “Just let Farrow