Surface (Guarding Her Book 1)

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Surface (Guarding Her Book 1) Page 4

by Anna Brooks


  “Wake up, Paisley.” Her skin is so soft and warm. Polly might not have wanted to wake her up, but I will. She needs to eat something.

  She turns her head, and the angry scratches on her cheek make my blood boil. When her groggy eyes find mine, she slowly sits up. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Erik and Polly just left. They said they’d call you tomorrow, and I made you some soup.”

  “They left?”

  I hand her the bowl, and she mutters a thank you.

  “Yep. They took off.”

  “So we’re alone now?”

  “We are.”

  Paisley

  I take a bite of my soup as Royce sits next to me on the couch and then turns the TV on. “What do you want to watch?” He continues flipping through the channels, but when I don’t answer, he looks over to see what the problem is.

  “I… Royce, we need to talk.”

  “Not right now. You need to eat, and you need to rest.” He turns his attention back to the TV.

  No. I’m not doing this. I cannot be in the same apartment as Royce. It’s bad enough I have a mad crush on him, but it’s even worse that he knows it. I didn’t think it could be more mortifying, but when I realized he could hear me when I was… No. I reach over and grab the remote and shut the TV off.

  “No, I don’t need to rest. I just slept for hours.”

  He nods at my soup. “You’d better eat that before it gets cold.”

  “I don’t know if staying with you is the best thing, Royce.”

  “Why not?” Raising a brow, he challenges me.

  “Because.”

  His lips twitch. “Because isn’t an answer.”

  “Because I’m mad at you.”

  “Really?” He tosses an arm on the back of the couch. “What did I do?”

  Where to start. I could tell him that he hurt my feelings when he fell off the face of the earth. I could also mention that he’s essentially been lying to me for months and months. What I should do is pretend I don’t feel the way I do about him, but that’d be impossible. Nobody in the world compares to him.

  Before I fell in love with Royce, I did try to date. Try being the operative word.

  The first boy who discovered the overprotective ways of my father was Trevor. He was so nice. He ran track and was the star of the musical that year. When he came to pick me up, he was greeted by five grown ass men who all happened to be carrying. So when he got sick halfway through the date and dropped me off two hours before curfew, I knew it wouldn’t be the only time.

  It only took once more with Brett Milton for word to get around, and then my dating life was pretty much nonexistent. And then the last attempt anybody made was at that after party when Aaron grabbed me to dance. I thought once I moved here that things would change—not like I want to go whore around or anything. I’m so stupid over Royce that nobody stands a chance.

  God, what is wrong with me? I’ve literally closed myself off for a guy who is harder to figure out than the stupid Rubik’s cube I’ve had for ten years. I got it from a social worker and brought it with me whenever I moved. Every time I get one section all the same color, I have to ruin it to get another side. Exactly like Royce. Just when I think I have a part of him figured out, everything gets jumbled and I have to start over.

  I don’t answer him, so he asks again, “What did I do to make you mad at me?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.” I stand with the bowl and take it the short distance to the kitchen, hoping if I change the subject, he’ll forget about it. “You’re right. I need rest. I’m going to bed.”

  He intercepts me when I try to walk past the couch and pulls me onto his lap. I have to wrap an arm around his neck and then rest my injured one on my thigh. “What are you doing?”

  “Why are you upset all of the sudden?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Don’t lie to me, precious.”

  Love that. I absolutely love when he calls me that. He makes me feel that way whenever he uses the pet name. “I’m not.”

  “You seem to forget I know you.”

  “And you seem to forget people change a lot in almost three years.”

  “There it is,” he murmurs with a tilt of his lips.

  I try to move off him, but he clamps an arm around my waist. “There’s what?”

  “The truth.”

  Too damn tired to play mind games with him, I let out a frustrated sigh. “Can we just take a time-out so I can go to bed?”

  “I’m not a child, Paisley. Nobody puts me in a time-out, not even you.” He grabs my chin and turns me so I have no choice but to look at him. “I had to leave.”

  “Okay.”

  “No.” He shakes his head, and when his eyes connect with mine, the softness in them gives me a flutter in my chest. I’ve dreamed about that look because I saw it right before he kissed me and could never get it out of my mind. I never thought I’d see it again. “You don’t get it. I had to leave because if I had to be around you any longer, I wouldn’t have been able to take it.”

  But that flutter turns to a thick stream of bitter that slithers up my throat. “You couldn’t take it?”

  “That’s not how I meant it, precious. You know that.”

  I believe him. I do. I think. But I’m so tired. “Can we talk tomorrow. I just need…. I need—”

  “You need some time to process, baby. Take it. But not too long because we’ve waited long enough.”

  I climb off him and walk to his room, closing the door and then pushing the button in to lock it. The weight of everything that’s just happened crushes my shoulders, making me sink to the floor. As much as I want to let the tears fall, I hold them in. I learned how to do this in foster care. If I cried, I was immediately labeled an outcast. Kids who didn’t have anything better to do thrived on the weak. And some of the parents were really mean, too.

  At one place, I remember the parents were so mean to this one girl with ruby red hair. I’d hear her crying all the time because of it. Sometimes, her screaming would wake me up, and I’d have to cover my ears. Somehow, I managed to avoid his wrath and was so lucky to have gotten adopted out of that shitty situation and into the loving arms of my new parents.

  Chapter 4

  Royce

  “What are you doing?” Paisley pulls the comforter tighter to her chest and tries to scoot away.

  “I’m too big to sleep on that fuckin’ couch.” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her against my chest. “Go back to sleep.”

  “The door was locked,” she hisses.

  “Like that’d stop me.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should leave her alone after she came in here, but I figured with so much happening, it’d be best if she had some time to herself. I could tell she was starting to pick up what I was putting down, and it freaked her out, so I thought I’d give her the night. But when I woke up with a numb arm and a cramp in my neck, I changed my mind.

  “I need to pee.”

  I lift my arm up and roll to my back, missing her warmth already. Even after she leaves my bed, her scent lingers, and I fight to keep my dick from becoming hard. Since I haven’t slept for shit the past couple of nights, I actually end up dozing off. When I wake up to an empty bed, irritation gives me a rush of adrenaline as I get up to find her.

  Curled up on the couch, she’s fit her small body perfectly in the corner, but I don’t take the time to admire how pretty she is. I simply scoop her up in my arms. She wakes up and flails out. “Stop it.”

  “Royce, I can’t sl—”

  “Shut it, Paisley.”

  She snaps her mouth closed, and I kick the door shut behind me. The covers are still tossed back, so I gently set her down and settle in behind her. With my arm around her and her hair in my face, we fall asleep without another word.

  * * *

  The blaring alarm wakes me up out of the best sleep in my life. My 9mm is in my hand just as Paisley runs into the bedroom. “Ah!” She screams and co
wers, backing away with her hands up.

  “What the fuck?”

  “I went to go get dressed.”

  I use the keypad in my bedroom to shut the siren off and set my weapon on my dresser. “Why the fuck would you leave without asking me?”

  She squares her shoulders and points a finger at me. “I don’t need your permission, Royce King.”

  “Semantics.”

  Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she takes in my almost naked body. She’s looking at me with almost as much heat as I feel whenever I catch sight of her. I’m in a pair of boxer briefs with morning wood hard enough to cut glass, and even if I wouldn’t have woken up like this, just seeing her would have done it. When her eyes finally meet mine, they widen before she drops her head and darts out of the room.

  I follow her and grab her arm just as she’s about to leave. “Stop.”

  “I’m just going next door to get some clothes.”

  “How are you going to get in?” I ask. “Remember your purse got stolen by a man who held a fuckin’ gun to your head?”

  She turns on me and holds up a key, smirking. “Found an extra in the drawer.”

  My lips twitch. She’s too damn cute for her own good. Grabbing the key out of her hand, I hold it above my head. “I’ll take you as soon as I get a shower and we eat.”

  She jumps, trying to grab it with her good hand. “No. I need to get a clean outfit now because I’m meeting Chad for brunch. I haven’t showered in two days, and I’m in the same nasty clothes.”

  “Who’s Chad?” I already know exactly who he is, but I want to see what she says.

  She takes a step back, fusing with the door. “He’s a friend from my photography class.”

  “And why are you meeting him for brunch?”

  “Because he’s a friend.”

  “He wants in your pants, Paisley.”

  She crosses her arms. “How would you know? You don’t even know him.”

  “I know more than you think, and yes, he does.”

  “He does not.”

  I nod. “He does.

  “He’s gay.”

  Gotta give the guy credit. “He’s not, but that’s beside the point. You’re not going anywhere this weekend. I want you here with me, resting and safe. Not out in the open.”

  “I have to go. I don’t have his number memorized to cancel, and he’s going to be waiting for me. That’s so rude to just not show up. Then I need to get a new cell phone. I’ll be back here in a few hours.”

  “It’s hilarious that you think I’d let you walk around by yourself.”

  Her arms fall to her sides, and her face scrunches before she lays into me. “We’ve had this discussion before. I don’t need your permission to do anything. I never did, and I never will, Royce. You’re my father’s employee; if I’m too difficult for you to deal with, then take it up with him.”

  The light mood just plummeted, and heaviness closes in on the space between us with her bratty attitude. “Okay, so we’re gonna start having some of these conversations right now.”

  She shakes her head. “No. We’re not. I’m going to change, and then I’m going to brunch so he’s not waiting forever for me.”

  Taking a step closer, I lean into her. “You are the only one I give a shit about. I don’t care if your little friend Chad thinks you blew him off or not. I care that you’re here and you’re safe, so that’s exactly where you’ll fucking be.”

  “Oh, my God. Fine!” She stomps her foot, and I have to press my lips together to keep from laughing at her tantrum.

  I’ve got the key and reset the alarm so she can’t go anywhere while I take a shower. I make quick work of washing myself, mainly because any time I linger on my cock would make it ache even worse.

  By the time I get out, she’s managed to move from pouting by the door to pouting on the couch. I toss a pan on the stove. “Want breakfast?”

  “No.” She crosses her arms. “I want to go to Baker’s Dozen for brunch with Chad.”

  “Yeah? Well, the next time you finger yourself, I want to watch you come, and we both know that’s not gonna happen, so quit your whining.”

  That doesn’t even shut her up, but a bunch of thoughts run through her head before she crosses her arms. “You’re an asshole, Royce. God, I never thought I’d say that. Not to you. You’re really being mean.” The longer she talks, the more broken her words become. “I can’t believe you’re not letting me go to brunch with my friend.”

  The soft spot I have for her clouds my judgment, and I throw my hands in the air. “Fine. Jesus. You can go to brunch with your not gay friend, but I’m coming with you.”

  “Really?”

  Of course, really. “Anything to see you smile.” I motion to the door. “Let’s go get your stuff before we leave.”

  “Fine.” She follows me over to her place, and when the alarm beeps as we enter, I hit the code real quick. “How do you know my code?”

  After closing the door, I just look at her.

  “Really, Royce. God, what else do you know?”

  “Everything.”

  “So irritating,” she snaps, but I love that she’s not mad at me anymore, just back to herself.

  I cannot wait to tame that sass in her. “Grab enough stuff for the rest of the semester.”

  “That’s three weeks! I’m not staying with you for three weeks.”

  “You are.”

  She points at me, then drops her hand, leaning toward me. “You’re infuriating.”

  “And you’re so beautiful it hurts to look at you sometimes.”

  Finally, she snaps her mouth closed, her face softening at my admission before she goes to her room. She’s trying to hide her fear with anger. I hear her shuffling around, and when the shower turns on, I walk through her space. I haven’t been in here since I did the initial security check. She has it decorated really girly, and I run my fingers along a framed photo of a bunch of us in the pool at her parents’ house.

  Continuing my perusal, I smile at the stuffed monkey she has next to a photo of me and her at the carnival. She had a hard time making friends right away, so I invited her to do stuff with me. Not out of pity. Never that. And the more time we spent together, the more I liked it. I was still getting field experience with Ace, so I wasn’t gone as much as the other guys were.

  At that carnival, I will never forget some piece of shit walking straight up to her while I was playing some stupid game and grabbing her. One of his filthy hands on her arm and the other on her ass. And I lost my shit. Thank Christ police officers were there to pull me off him because I’m pretty sure I would have killed him.

  I actually feel my heart clench when I think about that night, and how, after I kicked his ass, she ran to me and threw herself in my arms. I’d never had that feeling before. It’s impossible to ignore the pull between us, and I’m so sick of fighting it. She needs time, but I can’t wait until I can fully claim her.

  “I’m ready.” She walks out and makes my dick spring back up when I smell her fresh and clean from her shower. After we put her things inside my place, we head to the Escalade. I need to ask her something that’s been tearing away at me. “Where were you going the other day? You never leave that early.”

  “I was going to do a time lapse of Times Square as the sun was coming up for my final photo project.”

  Makes sense that I didn’t know then.

  I think about talking more but decide to let everything lie for now. Dealing with Chad will be bad enough and I’m sure I’ll do something to get her pissed at me again.

  When we arrive at the restaurant, I spot Chad before he sees me. The smile on his face is one that I really, really want to make go away. Preferably with my fist. Nobody needs to be looking at her like that except me. This poor guy is so out of his league, though.

  He wants her so badly, but she’s completely clueless and thinks he’s legitimately gay. I did a basic background check on him, and nothing major came up. Just a cou
ple of parking tickets. I can’t figure out what his game is with her, though. I don’t think he’s ever come out and told her he’s gay, but she believes it. I’m not sure if he’s trying to get his hooks in her before he makes an actual move or what. He stands as she approaches their regular table, but when he notices me, he pauses.

  “Sorry I’m late. Long story.” She sits in the seat across from him, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing that she didn’t hug him like he was expecting. Every time I had to watch him—once a week for the past few months, to be exact—put his arms around her was pure torture. I’m glad she’s not testing me today. Girl’s smart enough to know that’s not happening anymore.

  He sits down and clears his throat. “Oh, my God. What happened?” He reaches out to touch her bandaged hand, but I’m faster. I clamp my fingers over his wrist.

  “Royce,” she scolds.

  “Hands off,” I warn him with absolutely no humor in my message.

  He yanks his arm away, and I keep my eyes on him as I sit next to Paisley, then throw my arm over the back of her seat. He watches my fingers as they make small circles on her shoulder. The irritation he feels for me being here is fast becoming anger.

  Bring it on. I challenge him. I’ve been itching to kick someone’s ass lately.

  “Who are you?” He looks at her. “Who is this, Paisley?”

  “He works for my dad. I had some trouble a couple of days ago, so he’s here to make sure I’m safe. Just ignore him.” She leans in. “It’s what I plan to do.”

  I smirk at the attitude and allow them to chat amongst themselves. He’s trying to ignore me, but every time she laughs and leans into me, his jaw tightens. Or when her hand falls naturally on my thigh when she’s talking about the guy who attacked her, his eyes narrow at the comfort she subconsciously takes from me. Chad is not good at masking his anger, and if it wasn’t Paisley who he had his sights on, I might take pity on him.

  But when it comes to her, that’s not an option.

  I play nice during the meal but am relieved when the waiter takes our empty plates away, signaling the end of this shit.

 

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