Page 27 of I Don’t Need Your Protection (Harrington Bay Academy #1)

Addie

So Caleb and I are at a…bowling alley.

I never in my wildest dreams thought my bodyguard would actually want to partake in a recreational activity, and definitely not bowling. But here we are, waiting to get our shoes after paying for two games.

Ever since we got in the car, I’ve been bursting to ask him why.

Why did he offer to take me bowling when he’s never done anything like this before?

Is it because he feels bad that I had to walk around campus with fake parents?

Has he been yearning to bowl because he hasn’t done it since he was a kid?

Or is it because he feels just as lonely as I do?

Whatever the reason, it’s taking everything I have to keep my mouth shut. Because I don’t want to make him feel weird. The fact that we’re doing a fun activity together makes me feel like…I don’t know, different about him. I want him to have fu n for a change, and I want to have fun with him.

“Let’s go to our lane,” he says once we receive our bowling shoes.

There are mostly adults here with their kids. After Caleb and I find our lane, we sit down on the chairs and put on our shoes.

“It’s kind of gross if you think about it,” I tell him with a laugh as I slide my right foot into my shoe.

“How many people wore these before you.” My laugh dies down when a memory plays in my head.

“My mom and I planned to surprise my dad with his own bowling shoes for his birthday, but…my parents died before we could.”

Caleb nods without saying anything. Just his close proximity makes me feel better. I can’t explain why—maybe because despite his lack of words, I sense that he understands exactly how I feel?

Once our shoes are on, I go to the machine to punch in our names.

Mom, Dad, and I always had fun making up funny nicknames for one another.

I decide to put “Mr. Big Muscles” for Caleb and gesture for him to choose a name for me.

He sits there for a few seconds as he contemplates what to choose, and I can’t help but notice how cute he looks.

I guess I never saw him concentrate so hard on anything before.

My eyes widen when the words appear on the screen. Miss Beautiful Soul.

I’m so flabbergasted that I just gape at him. He reaches for one of the black balls and holds it out to me. “Is this too heavy for you ?

“What? I m-mean, um…” I take the ball from him and nearly drop it. “Sheesh!” I gasp as he quickly catches it. “I bet most guys wouldn’t be able to hold that. It’s definitely made for a guy with huge muscles. I’ll go look for a lighter one.”

As I walk away, I turn my head and watch him for a few seconds.

He’s scanning the area with laser-focused eyes, always on alert for any possible threat.

For a second, I forgot that he’s my bodyguard and that I am constantly at risk of danger.

It felt like we were just two friends enjoying an afternoon together.

I don’t know if he and I could ever really be friends, but I wish we would.

I feel like the more time we spend together, the more I can help him act more like a kid.

But I have to remind myself that’s not up to me.

I can’t tell him what to do and how to live his life.

After testing a few balls, I find a dark purple one that’s slightly heavy, but not too bad. When I return to Caleb, his eyes are frantically searching the area, and when they land on me, he seems to relax.

“It’s okay,” I tell him as I add my ball to his. “You think someone would try to hurt me in a public place like this?”

“I never dismiss any possibility.”

“Okay. Well, you’re up.”

He takes his heavy ball and walks up to the front of the lane. Maybe this is due to his martial arts skills, but every one of his movements is so sharp and precise. Even the way he throws the ball. So it shouldn’t come as a shock that he gets a strike.

“Yay!” I clap my hands and jump in my place. “That was awesome, Caleb. ”

He tries to hide his smile, but he’s not fooling me. Oh gosh, he looks so good just from that small smile. I’ve seen him smile before, but it was always in an amused manner. Now, it carries a hint of pure joy. Like he’s actually having fun with me.

“Watch me beat your butt,” I say as I lift my purple ball and stick out my tongue.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Let’s see you try.”

“Oh, you don’t know how competitive I can be.”

I walk up to the front of the lane and study the distance. Precision, precision. If he can figure out the right angle and speed, so can I. I stretch out my arm and throw the ball, then jump in place when it rolls down the middle. Oh my gosh! I’m going to get a strike, too!

The ball veers to the left and falls into the gutter.

“What the heck?!” I cry. When I spin around, I find Caleb once again trying to hide his smile. I narrow my eyes at him as I head back to the ball return machine. “That was just a warmup.”

“Mhmm.”

“Watch me smoke your butt this time.”

Except, I don’t smoke his butt. I manage to knock down only two pins.

“A for effort,” he says.

I playfully shove him, but since he’s built like a freakin’ tree, I’m the one who loses her balance and goes splat toward the floor. But I don’t hit the floor. I’m in Caleb’s arms instead. A rush of heat engulfs me, burning at the areas where his hands clutch my arms .

I gawk at him, then at the floor, then back at him. “You caught me.”

He stares into my eyes, and that’s when I realize there are literally only inches between us. “My reflexes,” he murmurs.

“Are as quick as lightning?” I finish for him.

“Faster than that.”

“Is that even possible?” I breathe, my eyes dipping to his lips before I force them back to his face.

His gaze drops to my lips for a second. “It is for me.” He clears his throat and releases me. “It’s my turn.”

I rub my arms that are still burning, as though he still touches me. Caleb’s focus must be a little off because he’s not as precise this time. When he throws the ball, it rolls slightly to the right and he knocks down eight pins.

“What happened, oh master of bowling?” I joke.

He gathers his ball and heads for the lane, but he stops for a second and says over his shoulder, “I was distracted by a pretty girl.”

My face heats up faster than a furnace. That’s the second time he called me pretty. I don’t understand—he told me when we first met that he doesn’t care about any of the girls here. All he cares about is keeping me safe. And now he called me pretty?

“Spare,” he says when he returns to me, this time with a real smile on his face.

“What? Oh, yeah! Good job.” I just gape at him again, loving the actual smile on his face and obsessing about the fact that he called me pretty. Which makes me feel pathetic because why would I get so bent out of shape just because a guy thinks I’m pretty?

Because it’s Caleb , a little voice reminds me.

He watches me closely. “Are you okay?”

I snap out of it. “Of course I am! You think you’re so cool getting a strike and then a spare. Watch me smoke your butt this time.”

He chuckles as he once again crosses his arms over his chest. “Again, let’s see you try.”

I don’t know why I’m so nervous as I walk to the front of the lane with my ball. Maybe because I think I’ll impress him if I get a strike? Why would I want to impress him, anyway?

Shoving away my thoughts, I focus on throwing the ball. I once again jump in place as it rolls right down the middle, muttering, “Please don’t veer, please don’t veer.”

I get a strike.

“Woohoo!” I squeal as I raise a fist in the air. “I got a strike!” I dash over to him and throw my arms around him. “See, I told you!”

He’s very stiff for a second, but then his arms come around me. Only for a moment, though. He steps back and says, “Good job. Do you want a snack from the machine?”

“What?”

“I’m getting something from the snack machine. Do you want anything?”

“Uh, sure. Surprise me.”

He nods and walks away.

I hug my upper arms and sit down on one of the chairs, trying not to feel hurt by his rejection. Maybe he’s not a hugger? Or maybe he also forgot that he’s supposed to be my bodyguard and not my friend.

He returns a few minutes later with potato chips for him and a pastry for me.

We eat our snacks in silence and then return to the game.

I don’t joke around with him anymore because I feel awkward about the hug, and he seems fine with treating our bowling games as though they’re an assignment and not a fun activity.

I guess my hug reminded him that he’s not supposed to get close to me.

He wins both games. I hold out my hand for a high-five and he gives it to me, as well as a small smile that causes my heart to flutter.

“Are you good at everything you do?” I tease, wanting us to go back to normal—whatever normal is between us.

“What do you think?”

“I think the answer is yes.”

“You would be correct.”

We take off our shoes and head back to return them.

“Well, I think there’s something you might not be the best at,” I muse. “But that’s only because you don’t have experience in that department.”

He stops walking and glances at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Kissing.”

His brows fly up and his jaw falls a little.

I lift my shoulders. “Is it true?”

He stares at me for a little bit longer before tearing his eyes away. “We should head back to school.”

I’m not surprised he didn’t answer. I thought maybe he would open up a little.

But maybe I messed everything up with that hug, or maybe he doesn’t want to talk about those kinds of things.

Which I guess is okay, because no matter how much I want it, Caleb will never be my friend.

He’s completely content with just being my bodyguard.

Why can’t I feel the same?