Page 71 of Guarded Knight

His grin widens. “I was stocking the shelf next to you, and it’s damn hard not to notice a woman like you.”

I try to laugh it off, but it sticks in my throat. The pharmacy feels too small, too bright. I can feel Gabriel’s presence even though I can’t see him; I know his eyes are on us. I want to look over my shoulder, but I don’t want to make this more awkward than it is or accidentally give Gabriel the bat signal.

But here, the air feels tight. Gabriel’s presence is a reminder that this moment could explode. Trent could be one wrong word away from turning this into a confrontation I don’t want.

Trent seems like an all right guy. Forward, but all right. Not my type, but all right. He doesn’t need a black eye, though, and judging by the frosty air rolling over my shoulder, he’s in for something from Gabriel. A voodoo doll stabbing at the least.

Why is my gut so heavy? Am I nervous with Gabriel watching? It’s not like I’m not allowed to talk to men or something, and he’s respecting both the bodyguard and friendship line, which I…appreciate.I guess.

I did tell him in the alley of Wild Cantina not to cockblock me.

Ew. That feels even yuckier to think now than the first time.

“I just need to pick up a prescription.” Then a joke slips out because my nerves are on fire. “Lube gets delivered to my house.”

He lets out a low chuckle, and something genuine flickers across his face. “Right this way.”

He steps behind the counter, his hands folded, posture all dominance and charm. Shelves and baskets full of tiny white bags line the wall, each one a reminder of how many times I’ve stood in a line like this, hoping for a little extra time on this earth. My pulse spikes.

“What’s the name?”

“Lara Young.”

He turns and pulls my basket without a glance, but his fingers pause at the label. His jaw tightens, and when he glances backup, there’s a softness there I didn’t expect at him seeing the medication I take. Of course, he’ll know what it’s for.

“I hope these are working out for you.”

“Yeah…” My voice cracks. “It’s a miracle drug.”

“Good to hear.” He taps the register, keys beeping like alarms in my head. He pauses for a beat, looking at the floor. “Would you… would you maybe want to go line dancing at the Cantina Tuesday night?”

An unexpected laugh bubbles up. “Line dancing?” My eyes dart to Gabriel, arms crossed by the door, jaw set like stone, sunglasses on indoors like a hitman. He’s heard every word. I know it.

Trent leans forward, tone serious now. “I thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

“He’s not,” I whisper very, very softly.

But the answer feels like a lie.

“Do you want one?” His question is surprisingly gentle, an edge of vulnerability in it that makes me feel for him because I know where this is going.

Yeah, I do want a boyfriend.

Just not him.

“Just… the prescription today, please.” I offer a crooked smile. “But thanks for the invitation.”

He shrugs, rings me up. But before he hands me the bag, he scribbles something on the receipt. “Call me if you change your mind,” he says, slipping it inside. His eyes linger.

I force a smile. “Thanks.”

In another life, I might have said yes. Men like Trent have helped me forget the ache of wanting more for many years.

But that night at the bar with Gabriel, it was such a simple conversation, but we tore each other open, and now I can’t go back.

Now I want more than I’ve let myself have.

I wanthim.