A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Mia Carson

  They did finally show up, full of apologies for making us wait. They had an excuse, though neither Annie nor I could speak as to its accuracy. We shared a look that said neither of us quite believed it. The host, a dark-skinned man with an accent I didn't recognize, took us to our table and set menus in front of us. Annie was across from me, next to her mother, her face buried in her menu. I followed suit. There wasn't a large selection, but I got the impression the menu changed on a day-to-day basis. I couldn't decide what I wanted and was still trying to figure out what sounded best when a waitress came to take our orders. Still no orange soda. I gave Annie an apologetic smile as she ordered a glass of the same wine our parents were sharing. I made it four.

  “This all sounds so good,” Annie said.

  “I can't pick.”

  “I can't choose between the smoked salmon and this dip thing, so why don't we each get one and try them both out?”

  I glanced at the items she mentioned. Both looked good. “Sounds like a deal.”

  I settled on steak for my entrée, Annie the soup special, and our parents on the fish. Our wine came first. I was grateful for the alcohol, but I was restrained in my drinking. Annie and I had had a good day, and I had no need to drown my uneasiness in a bottle. Annie asked for a water to go with her wine and let our parents drag her into their conversation.

  After a while, I stretched out my legs, feeling a bit cramped in the tiny booth. My foot bumped against Annie's. I jerked back immediately and muttered an apology. She smiled at me, raising a questioning brow. I took in the redness in her cheeks and slid my feet out until they touched hers. Casually, Annie wrapped her feet around my ankle, giving it an odd but comforting squeeze. How much had she had to drink? Her water was half gone, but I hadn't been paying attention to how many times the waiter had refilled her wine glass. I glanced at our parents, but neither of them were paying all that much attention to us. In fact, they were having a rather animated conversation with each other, still midway through their main dishes.

  “You okay?” I asked Annie.

  She nodded and gave me a giddy, slightly tipsy smile. “I'm so pumped for my dessert,” she replied. “An entire chocolate platter all to myself? Yes, please.”

  “Even if it has coconut in it?” I asked.

  She made a face. “You can have those pieces.” I laughed. Same as ever. I ate her coconut cream chocolates.

  Annie

  I regretted having drunk so much. The second I stood up after dinner, the alcohol rushed to my head, and I swayed ever so slightly. But Zach was behind me, his hand on the small of my back again before slipping around my waist. I leaned into him. Our parents left us to go to one of the bars, but Zach led me in the direction of our cabin. I didn't mind. We'd been up since the crack of dawn, and I felt the exhaustion beginning to weigh me down. I managed to hold in a yawn until we were just outside the cabin door. Zach laughed and opened it, holding it so I could step past him and into the room first.

  “I'm gonna change,” he announced.

  I stretched my arms above my head and watched him fish around in his bag for his sweats and a t-shirt. When he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, I yanked my own pjs out and changed. When he came out, he had one of the glasses from the bathroom sink filled with water. He passed it to me with a smile. Our fingers brushed when I took it from him and the tingling lingered long after.

  “Don't want you to be hungover,” Zach said.

  He fiddled with the TV and settled on the single movie channel. He pulled his bag down from his bed, tucking it away at the end of the frame. He pointed at mine, and I nodded. He zipped it up and put it next to his, then slumped into the single chair. I sipped my water. Zach watched TV, his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin on his knuckles. I stretched out on my stomach on the lower bunk and pillowed my head on my arms, my glass of water on the carpeted floor next to me. I muffled another yawn into my elbow.

  “You can go to sleep,” Zach said.

  I groaned. “But it's only, like, seven.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I'm tired, too.” He paused and glanced at me. “Are you uncomfortable sleeping because you have to share with me?”

  I thought for a few seconds. I probably should have been, and probably would have been, at least a bit, if I hadn't drunk so much, but it was nice to have someone I knew around when I was on a ship in the middle of an ocean.

  “No,” I said into my arm. “It's okay.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “We've slept together before,” I said, and couldn't quite keep the acidity from my voice.

  “I know,” Zach replied. “But that was then. I just wanted to make sure, 'cause if you're not, I can go...somewhere else.”

  “What, like go sleep on the floor across the hall? Yeah, I'd like to see you try.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile, and he shook his head with a tiny sigh. I propped my chin on my arms to watch him through half-lidded eyes. “You're right,” I continued. “That was then. Things are different now. But I don't hate you, Zach. It was two years ago.”

  He turned his head to look at me, his eyes boring into mine. I swallowed hard, my throat tight. He was still so handsome, just as he had been when he'd swept me off my feet. And today had been...fun. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time, and it had been with him. I smiled at him, but I felt sadness settling on me like a blanket. It was probably just the wine.

  Zach switched his attention back to the TV, and I turned my head to the side again. The dull ache in my chest was back. Not for the first time, I wished things had turned out differently.

  I woke up at some indeterminate time to Zach gently shaking my shoulder. I blinked up at him in the low light coming from the direction of the bathroom and yawned. Speaking softly to me, he helped turn me around so I was laying the right way in bed and pulled the covers out from under my body to gently tug them back up to my chin. I felt his hand smooth my hair back from my face, then tenderly pull out the hair tie I'd forgotten about. I held up my wrist for him to slip it over my hand and let it snap gently back where it belonged. I mumbled something that sounded like a bunch of nonsensical syllables and curled into myself. Zach let out a heavy breath, and I felt him lean over me and press his lips to my forehead. It left behind a tingle that lingered after I heard him climb the ladder to the top bunk and settle down with a grunt and a handful of mattress squeaks.

  In the morning, I could barely meet his eyes, the tired memory of that kiss still lingering in the back of my mind. He was already dressed when I woke up and left me alone in the room to dress for the day while he went across the hall to ask our parents if we were having breakfast together. I rubbed the spot on my brow where he had kissed me and drew in a shaky breath. Even after two years, he could still make my heart pound. The worst part about it was that I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not, and a small, selfish part of me thought that if things didn't work out between Mom and Evan, then there was a chance he and I could end up together again. It was a thought that stuck with me for the entire trip to Florida, making the time in between tense and awkward, if uneventful.

  I worked, getting as much done as I could before the promise of nice weather and a warm sun made it impossible for me to concentrate. I didn't know how Zach spent those two days, busy as I was racking up the wifi charge by checking my email and trying to find quiet places where I could sit with my laptop. Even though I wondered, I never asked. I hated that I missed and wanted his company.

  When we finally reach the Keys, the change was refreshing. We had docked before I woke up, and with excitement boiling in my stomach, I checked the weather on the TV and hastily pulled out shorts and a t-shirt, completely forgetting that Zach was still asleep on the top bunk until I felt a prickling between my bare shoulder blades. My heart gave a painful thump. An almost overwhelming urge to turn around washed over me. I clipped my bra slowly and reached for my shirt on top of the dresser by the TV. I rol
led my shoulders when I got my shirt over them and tugged it down over my stomach.

  I heard a shaky exhale from Zach. I should have changed in the bathroom. I should have scolded him for staring at me. I should have done anything other than what I did, which was turn around to look at him until he cleared his throat and sat up, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers partly hidden by his blankets. What did it really matter if he saw me change? It was nothing he hadn't seen before.

  “You should get dressed,” I said. “Mom's gonna want to go shopping, and so do I. I haven't had a good key lime pie in ages.” I kept my voice as steady as I could, my eyes on his. He nodded and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. I held my head high as I walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. The second I was in there, I closed my eyes, pressing my hands flat against the door to ground myself. My heart felt ready to pound out of my chest. What was I doing? It didn't matter if I still had residual feelings for Zach. I needed to act appropriately, and so did he.

  Except he had been. He hadn't done anything upsetting or inappropriate. He didn't seek out my company but let me find him, and he had been nothing but polite and friendly. And I was having fun with him again. I wasn't thinking about him breaking my heart because 'it just wasn't going to work out.' I was thinking about the things we used to do. The games and the movies and the absolutely stellar sex. The few times it had happened, anyways. If it were just he and I on this cruise, and not us and our parents...

  A knock on the bathroom door made me almost jump right out of my skin. “You okay, Annie?” Zach asked. His voice was muffled by the barrier between us, but it sounded rough, though whether with sleep or something else, I didn't know. I knew I wouldn't have really minded if it was the latter, which wasn't a thought I should have been having. “Annie?”

  “I'm fine,” I said, and flushed the toilet even though I hadn't gone. I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, then dried my hands before sliding the door back. Zach stood before me, still bare-chested, still in his boxers, staring down at me with concern written on his handsome face. Barely an inch of space separated us. I tilted my head back to look up at him, feeling my lips part. I watched his throat bob in a nervous swallow. His gaze travelled from my eyes to my mouth then dropped lower. Just the way his eyes darkened when he glanced at my breasts made my nipples tingle. An embarrassed blush heated my cheeks.

  Neither of us moved. Zach was blocking my way out, and I was blocking his way in, but all we did was stare at each other. I was struck with a memory of how his bare chest and back had felt under my hands as he rolled his hips into me, his cheek pressed to mine, his breath in my ear. I'd expected my first time to hurt, but aside from an initial, unfamiliar discomfort, it had been the best feeling I'd ever experienced in my life.

  I watched Zach raise his hand, moving in slow motion, and brush his knuckles, then his thumb across my cheek. He cupped it gently, stroking the edge of my cheekbone, and leaned down.

  Someone knocked very firmly on the door to our room, almost a pounding that sounded excited. Zach took a hurried step back, and I took advantage of the sudden space between us to squeeze past him, my heart a lump in my throat. Zach peeked through the tiny peephole, then eased the door partway open, sticking his head into the crack. I could just see his dad through the gap.

  “Still not dressed, kiddo?” Evan said. “Hurry your ass up. Donna wants to stretch her legs off the ship and get some shopping done before the crowds start to pile up.”

  “Sorry,” Zach said softly. “Be out in a minute.”

  “Come knock when you're ready,” Evan replied and left to go back across the hall. Zach shut the door.

  When he turned around, he wouldn't look at me. I pressed myself against the thin strip of wall between the beds and the bathroom as he passed. I gazed at the floor as he grabbed clothes and slipped into the bathroom. The shower started, and I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I sat on the bed and waited, heart pounding, listening to the shower. Zach wasn't in there for long, no more than five minutes before the tap squeaked off. When I closed my eyes, I could see him toweling himself off, water streaming down his chest and stomach, his hair a mess of wet curls. I could see the blue of his eyes with their ring of black, how they had looked the night we first slept together. His hair had been wet then, too, from another shower, the one he'd taken right before I'd texted him and asked him to come to my dorm to watch Netflix.

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth and managed to compose myself before Zach came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He stared at me, one hand in his hair, then cleared his throat and walked past me to dig in his bag. I didn't move as he pulled out a clean pair of boxers and dropped the towel from around his waist, but I could still see him out of the corner of my eye, a flesh-colored blur at the very edge of my vision. His boxers were grey with little black smiley faces on them. I'd bought them for him a few months after we started dating.

  I dug my fingers into the edge of my bed. Zach tugged up a pair of jeans and threw a t-shirt over his head. He didn't leave the towel on the floor but spread it over the back of the chair to dry, or be picked up by housekeeping, whichever happened first. He barely glanced at me, his hands in his pockets. His shirt clung in places to his still damp skin. My whole body burned.

  “You ready to go?” Zach asked. He offered me one of his hands. I stared at it, then carefully raised my own and hooked my pinky through his. Zach moved towards the door, towing me with him. With my free hand, I patted my pocket to be sure I had my wallet with my money and our room key. The door closed behind us.

  Zach held our hands out of sight when he knocked on the door to our parent's cabin, using his body to block them. I stood as close as I dared, my palms sweating even though it was cool in the corridor. I obediently backed up when Zach did to let our parents out and fell into step half a pace behind him to make room for people walking the other way. Would our parents ask questions if we were caught? I wouldn't put it past them. The thrill of it made me hold onto Zach's finger that much harder. Trusting him was instinctive, even after he'd broken it. I couldn't put a reason to it other than that my gut told me to. Something about him was different. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. My fingers itched to properly intertwine with his.

  The glorious heat of southern Florida in the spring washed over my face. I closed my eyes, feeling it warm the skin on my forearms and legs. There was nothing wrong with winter, but God, I'd missed being warm. Zach tugged me along, following our parents. All around me, I could see palm trees and clear blue water and the white sand at the bottom. A pleasant change from the gross, murky green of the ocean where we lived.

  The incident with Zach still lingered in the back of my mind, but my surroundings captured my immediate attention. Now, I'd had some pretty good key lime pie in my life, but I knew it would be nothing compared to getting some from the source. I was more interested in going to the beach and dipping my toes in the warm water than I was wandering around town, but there would be tons of people wanting to do the same. I decided to wait until we stopped at one of the islands.

  I stared longingly at the water we left behind as our little group followed a handful of others into the town. Our parents pulled ahead. I guessed they trusted we wouldn't get lost, and besides, since we were on the mainland, we had cell service again. Zach slipped his hand into mine. I stared at our interlaced fingers and sunk my teeth into the inside of my lip. Zach didn't glance back to gauge my reaction but pointed at one of the many souvenir shops that lined the main road.

  “Wanna look?” he asked.

  “At gaudy, expensive, cheesy, tourist gags?” I replied. “Hell yeah, I do.”

  “Dad!” Zach shouted, “we're going to stop in here! Meet you later?”

  “Will do!” Evan shouted back. “I'll text you!” He and Mom headed further down the street, and Zach pulled me towards the shop.

  Away from our parents, the need to hide our
clasped hands was gone. He let them swing freely, his palm warm against mine. If he noticed that mine was sweating, he didn't care. The shop was the typical tourist trap, full of t-shirts, mugs, bags, magnets, and little knick-knacks. Zach let me take the lead. There wasn't anything I really felt like spending my money on, but it was nice to be myself with Zach again without having to worry about what our parents might say. It wasn't quite sneaking around. We'd have to be doing something for it to be that, and all we were doing was holding hands. There was nothing wrong with that.

  Zach pulled on my hand to stop me moving, his free one flipping through shirts on a rack. They all had different designs in black and white, but the tag on them said they changed to full color prints in the sun.

  “I like that one,” I said, pointing to a shirt with a pattern of the Jolly Roger on it.

  “Yeah?” Zach replied, taking a closer look. “For you or for me?”

  “For you, stupid,” I said. “You're the one who used to pretend to be a pirate when you were little.”

  “Well, I don't see any princess patterns here,” Zach replied. “So maybe we should be pirates together.”

  “Maybe we should.” Zach let go of my hand to search through the shirts for the right sizes, a medium for him and an extra small for me. I held it up to double-check the fit and grinned at him, searching for approval.

  “The most fearsome pirate I ever did see,” he said in a mock accent, squinting at me with one eye closed. I giggled and folded the shirt in half, then draped it over my arm. “Hey.” I looked up. Zach had wandered over to one of the tables in the middle of the shop with a display of magnets and mugs. He turned the magnet tower. The heat had dried his hair, and his shirt hung looser on his frame now that his skin wasn't damp. His new shirt was slung over his shoulder. My heart gave a tiny thump.