Page 15

SINCLAIR

I open the door to my apartment.

“Oh.” My smile falls at the sight of Jenson standing in a black suit on the other side.

“All right, Sinclair?” He grins and walks inside.

I check the empty hallway behind him before I close the door.

“Where’s Denver?”

“It’s your lucky day, you’ve got me instead.” He bends to fuss Monty as he trots over to him. “Nice sweater, bro.”

“The Vivienne Westwood team sent it to him. We were doing pictures for his Instagram account,” I say as Monty soaks up Jenson’s attention.

“Workout with Brad today, then? Followed by a casting?” Jenson says, glancing at me.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “So… Denver?”

“Family emergency.” He continues ruffling the hair on Monty’s head.

“Family emergency?”

Jenson chuckles at Monty. “You’re looking sharp, bro. I’m digging it.”

“Denver hasn’t mentioned any family to me.” I stuff my water bottle into my gym bag as I study him.

“He’s a private guy.” Jenson stands and looks at me. “You ready?”

“Yeah, one sec.” I falter as my two travel mugs catch my gaze.

“Ooh, nice. For me?” Jenson lifts up one and sniffs it. “Ah, of course, for our man, Denver. Well, he’s not here, so I’m sure he won’t mind.” He winks before sipping it and wincing. “You got any milk?”

“Sure.” I point at the refrigerator. Jenson strides over and fixes the coffee.

“You and me are going to have fun today. You won’t even miss him,” he says as he walks over and takes my bag for me.

I arch a brow. “Like there’s a chance I’d miss him. This is me and Denver, remember? My father forced us together. It wasn’t by choice.”

The words feel deceitful as they leave my mouth, even though they’d have felt so natural only weeks ago. I press my lips together.

Jenson slurps his coffee noisily as he looks at me. “That’s exactly what he said.”

“What?” I scoff. “Seriously? He complained about being with me?”

My stomach drops, and I shove the weird sinking feeling away, instead replacing it with a burst of fire. How dare he?

“I asked for you or Killian if you recall? So if Denver’s going around saying?—”

“Nah, I’m just messing.” Jenson grins. “He didn’t say anything. But I’ll be sure to tell him you didn’t miss him one bit after the amazing day you had with me.”

I roll my eyes and shove playfully at his chest as I pass him to get Monty. “You’re a jackass.”

“Told you you’d have fun with me.” He chuckles behind me. “Now let’s go see Brad Garett-Charles. Because Denver sure as hell did have a word or two to say about him. I want to meet this douche.”

I snort. “Brad’s great, I don’t know what Denver’s issue with him is.”

“He said Monty doesn’t like him.”

“Monty loves him,” I lie. “You’ll see.”

I can hear Jenson’s chuckles as Monty shifts on the bench seat of the studio, his muzzle exposing his teeth as he growls.

“That sweater making him hot or something?” Brad asks, readjusting his hands on my hips as I hold a weight in one hand and lower into another lunge.

“No, he likes wearing clothes,” I pant as I hold my position for three counts.

“He’s an animal,” Brad says.

“So?” I lift my eyes to his, and he plasters a smile onto his face.

“You know, actually, I like it. Suits him.”

I look away and perform another lunge, holding for three counts again.

“You’re doing really well,” Brad praises, squeezing my hips and straightening them a little. “One more.”

I finish the set and put the weight down, lifting my towel to dry off.

“Where’s your usual guy?” Brad asks.

I glance over at the bench Jenson and Monty are sitting on. Jenson’s wearing a cocky grin and Monty’s staring at Brad with his ears pulled back like he wants to run over and bite him.

“You mean Denver?”

“That his name? The big guy that doesn’t say much?”

“He’s got the day off.” It’s all I can say because I don’t know where Denver is, or which family member has gotten an emergency. Because he’s never once told me about anyone close to him despite all the time we’ve been spending together.

“Thought you might have gotten rid of him.”

“Why would I do that?”

Brad shakes his head. “No reason.”

“Come on. This is me you’re talking to,” I say, slinging my towel over one shoulder and placing my hands on my hips.

His eyes soften as he studies my face. “Sure is you, Sin.”

My cheeks heat as he reaches up and takes my towel, swiping it over the top of my chest above the swell of my breasts.

“It’s the way he stares at you all the time. Like he wishes he had a chance,” Brad muses, his eyes traveling to my cleavage as he lets my towel go.

“He doesn’t.”

“I know he doesn’t. He’s just a bodyguard. You’re way out of his league.”

I gape at Brad’s back as he returns my weight to the rack.

“What? I meant; he doesn’t stare at me all the time.”

Brad shrugs. “I’m just telling it like I see it. When we had coffee the other day, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“He’s my bodyguard. That’s his job,” I huff.

“Yeah, maybe. Dude over there seems more chilled though.”

I look over at Jenson, who’s chuckling to himself as he types something into his phone.

“You ready for some stretches?” Brad grins as he grabs a mat and throws it on the floor.

“So this guy tried to sell me a casket the other day.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as Jenson pauses for effect.

“Told him that’s the last thing I need.”

I snort. “That’s even worse than the last one! Where the hell do you get these from?”

“My Uncle Perry was a comedian.” Jenson grins as I throw one of my couch cushions at him.

“Liar.”

He throws his hands up. “I swear on Monty’s life.”

“Don’t bring my baby into this,” I shriek.

He holds my eyes until we both burst into laughter.

He’s right. We have had a fun day. I always do with Jenson.

He’s silly and makes everything seem like a game.

And I think he secretly loved taking me to my casting.

He grinned and said hello to every model we saw, before asking me their name, then repeating it to himself like he was memorizing them all.

“You want another soda?” I ask.

Jenson's eyes widen as the sound of my front door slamming shut echoes through the hallway. He leaps to his feet, and I whip my head around, peering over the back of the couch. Only my father has a key to my apartment.

“Stay here,” he instructs. But he’s barely taken two strides before a dark hulk comes tearing into the room.

“You. Out. Now.” The harsh growl that comes along with it has me jumping up from the couch.

“Denver? What the hell? How did you get in?” I ask.

Dark green eyes meet mine for a millisecond, and my core clenches at seeing him again. He’s in his usual suit, but where he’s usually composed, his chest is heaving, and his eyes are wild like he’s about to lose it any second.

“Now,” he hisses at Jenson. “We need to talk.”

“Woah? What’s the problem?” Jenson says.

Denver advances on him, stopping inches from his face.

“You had one job today. What was it?”

Jenson glances at me with uncertainty.

“Don’t look at her, look at me,” Denver snaps.

Jenson’s face hardens, and he squares up to Denver. “I did my job. She’s safe, isn’t she?”

“I heard you laughing from the elevator.”

“So we’re not allowed to have fun now?” Jenson scoffs. “Come on, man. This is Sinclair. She’s not just a client. She’s a frien?—”

“I’ve been gone for one day. One day!” he rages. “And I come back and find you laid out eating popcorn.” He sneers as his eyes snag on the large bowl that’s tipped over on the couch.

“I asked him to stay,” I snap, trying to step between the two of them. But Denver wraps a strong hand around my waist and somehow maneuvers me to one side whilst keeping his eyes pinned on Jenson.

“This doesn’t concern you, Sinclair.”

“Of course it damn well does.” I fight to get between them again, but Denver stands firm, ignoring me.

“You texted me while she was working out to tell me that jackass had his hands on her again.”

Jenson juts up his chin. “Yeah. He did. You told me not to smack his face in because she likes him.”

Denver curses, his eyes flicking guiltily to mine.

“You texted me,” he grits at Jenson. “You took your eyes off her.”

“You text when you’re with her,” Jenson says, lifting both brows.

“Not when we’re in public. When there’s any chance of anyone else being near her, she is all I focus on.”

“We were in Brad’s studio. Relax, man.”

I stare at the two of them, facing each other like bulls, nostrils flaring.

I’ll give it to Jenson; he doesn’t back down easily when Denver’s in scare-you-until-you-shit-your-pants mode. Even Monty is looking uneasy and comes to stand beside me.

“How did you get in?” I ask Denver.

He finally drops his glare from Jenson for longer than a second to look at me. The tension eases a fraction in his brow as he meets my eyes. “I picked the lock. Took me seconds. You didn’t put the extra bolt in place.”

The accusation in his words makes heat spread in my stomach. His attention snaps back to Jenson. He’s going to rip into him again if I don’t stop him.

I fake a light giggle. “Oops.”

I study the side of his face for a reaction. A pulse throbs in his temple and I swear he growls from the back of his throat. Something about the way he’s so caveman over my safety, even though I know it’s just his job is… not unpleasant .

“Oops?” he hisses, his lips curling from his perfect white teeth as Jenson is forgotten and he turns his body, raining the full force of his pent-up inferno down on me like green fire. “Oops?” he repeats, towering over me like he’s about to swallow me whole. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“It’s fine, relax.” I pout, trying to shrug it off.

“This isn’t a joke, Sinclair. Someone out there might mean you serious harm. Jesus, do you want to end up kidnapped, or worse? Do you want your father to bury another child?”

His eyes widen the second it leaves his mouth.

“Jesus,” Jenson utters.

I pull back my arm and slap Denver hard across the face.

“How dare you!”

My palm stings, but not as much as my chest does. I suck in shallow breaths as my lungs tighten. Memories swim in front of my eyes. Of my brother’s smile. Him laughing. Of fire. And two graves, side by side.

I whimper, my throat on fire. “Of all the things, how could you say that?”

Monty whines at my feet and Denver’s entire demeanor shifts from white hot anger to icy desperation.

“Sinclair, I didn’t mean?—”

“Get out!” I cry. “Both of you. Leave me alone.”

I scoop Monty into my arms, my tears falling onto his neck as I hold him close and flee to my bedroom. I slam the door and lean against it, erupting into sobs. Monty nuzzles and licks at my face, trying his best to give me comfort.

The deep rumble of their voices carries from the living area. Then the sound of the front door opening and closing is followed by silence.

I walk over and sit on the end of my bed, one hand reaching up to touch my diamond necklace, as I keep Monty wrapped inside the other.

“Sinclair?” There’s a gentle knock at the door.

“Go away, Denver. Unless you want another slap.”

His sigh bleeds through the door. “I’m sorry. I should never have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Now, get lost.” I sniff.

“You know I can’t do that.”

I squeeze my eyes closed as hard as I can. So that’s what this is. He isn’t staying because he feels bad. He’s staying because he has to. Because it’s his job.

“I’ll come out and bolt the door after you. Just go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I let go of my necklace and wipe my cheeks. He’s so goddamn stubborn.

“Go and sleep in the hallway again then. I don’t want you near me.”

I stare at the door when there’s no answer. Maybe he’s gone. I stand and walk over to it, clutching Monty to my chest as I reach for the handle.

“I am sorry. And I’ll leave as soon as you open the door, I promise.”

His soft words fall against the wood and seep underneath the door.

“I need to know you’re okay. I can’t leave until I can see you’re okay. Please, Sinclair. You’re… I… Just open the door, please .”

I swallow around the lump in my throat as I slowly open the door.

Denver’s shining eyes are waiting to meet mine. He studies me, his eyes pinching at the tear tracks skating down my cheeks.

“I’m so sorry. I just need you to be safe.” He scrubs a hand around his jaw with a rough curse. “God, if anything were to happen to you, I…”

We stare at one another, and something shifts in my chest at the sheer devastation on his face.

“If you want Killian or Jenson instead, I’ll understand. I’ll speak to your father.” A muscle in his cheek pulls tight.

“No.”

My breath catches at the flare of hope in his eyes.

“I don’t want someone else… It might…” I search for a reason to give him. “… it might be confusing to Monty.”

He nods.

“But that hurt,” I whisper, my voice shaking.

The realization settles in my gut like a lead weight. He’s supposed to protect me. Yet he’s just cut me deeper than any of those stupid notes that were left on my car.

He moves closer and hesitates before he places both of his hands on my upper arms.

“Sinclair?”

I sniff and look down at Monty.

“Look at me.”

But I can’t because I’m afraid my tears will start all over again. I shake my head.

“ You hurt me,” I whisper.

The heaviness in his exhale runs through my entire body, so when his strong arms tentatively slide around me, I sink into them.

He pulls Monty and me against his solid chest, and I press my cheek over his heart, listening to its deep pulse. And despite what’s just happened, I close my eyes as he holds me in the safest embrace I’ve ever been inside in my life.

His breath falls into my hair and he strokes my back.

“I know I did, Princess,” he breathes. “And I am so fucking sorry for that.”