Page 11 of Unrequited

“You have a keeper?” I ask.

She frowns. “Akeeper?What is that supposed to mean? Tell me that’s something Irish and not chauvinistic.”

I lean back a little. “Akeeper. Someone who watches over you. Protects you. Keeps you in check.”

She pauses, like she doesn’t want to answer. Then she sighs and gives me a small nod.

“I guess. I have brothers,” she admits. “Too manyfucking brothers.”

I growl again. That filthy word doesn’t sound right coming from her mouth. Her lips are too soft, her face too fucking pretty.

“You ought not curse like that,” I tell her.

Her cheeks flush pink. Embarrassed, and slightly flustered.

That adorable little chin juts out again. “Why the fuck not?”

I lean forward, push her drink toward her, and take her hand in mine.

I run my thumb slowly over the top of it, watching her squirm in her seat.

“Because I told you not to.”

She doesn’t pull away.

She meets my gaze and then looks away again, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

Sweet trouble, I think.

Then, “Sir,” a voice breaks in behind me.

I don’t even look.

I’m here mapping out the Kopolov family. I’ve got guards stationed in every direction. Eyes everywhere. Spies. Plants. Watchers.

I hold up a hand, wordless, signaling to give me a minute.

“Sir,” the voice says again, more insistent now.

A clearing of the throat. Another warning.

What the actual fuck?

No oneinterrupts me. I don’t allow it. And now he’s risking his fucking life by interrupting me.

“Wait,” I say over my shoulder, before I turn to her.

“You shouldn’t be here, babydoll,” I whisper. “This isn’t a place for a girl like you. Someone could hurt you. Someone could take advantage.”

But I don’t say the rest out loud.

Someone like me.

“Protect me, then,” she whispers quietly, without really asking. “Just like you did before.”

And fuck, I will. I fucking will. But I don’t know if that’s the right thing here.

What the actual fuck am I doing?