Lahat ng Kabanata ng Falling for a John: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

ASHTON "Can you tell me anything about him?" I asked for what felt like the millionth time. Though I hadn't actually been keeping count, the annoyance in Perth's bite into his blueberry bagel made it clear that my question had died a bitter death at least five minutes ago. Today was the day everything was going to change. It was doomsday, the day when my already unconventional and strange life would become colossally more complicated. I could handle shit storms while single-handedly propping up the Earth, but I liked to have at least some semblance of preparation for situations. Sure, I had a real switchblade tucked away in my pocket, but I wanted a metaphorical one too. Perth swallowed his bagel before responding. "You want to know one thing?" "Just one," I affirmed. "He's your new bodyguard." I blinked slowly, transforming my expression into a glare. "Thank you for offering up the one thing I already fucking know." It had been driving me up the wall like a possessed Spider-Man.

ASHTON As I left the J. Son Paradise café in my sleek red Audi, I felt a strange tension in the air between Lennox and me. It all started when I handed him my eight-page list, and now we were on the freeway, heading who-knows-where. Lennox was sitting silently, reading through the list, while I focused on navigating through the traffic. Paparazzi vehicles tried to chase us like old friends, but I skillfully sped past them. Lennox finally looked up from the list and glanced at the cars around us. "I should be the one driving in this relationship," he said casually. I couldn't help but stiffen at the mention of the word "relationship." I quickly added "platonic" in my mind, but the memory of my sixteen-year-old self, infatuated with Lennox, was still lingering. At twenty-two-years-old, I was annoyed that Lennox was occupying my thoughts in such a way. He was never meant to be in my spank bank. "Number twelve," I pointed out from the list, trying to change the subject. He locked eye

LENNOX Fear does not grip me, not even the looming threat of losing my job. For three long years, almost every hour of every day, I have dedicated myself to shielding his mother. It's no trivial matter. She is a timid person with an insatiable craving for attention from the opposite sex. Despite her tall, slender figure and delicate features that lend her an everlasting youthfulness, she attracts unwelcome gazes. Those who seek to torment her view her as an easy target. I have endured countless instances of being spat on, taking blows meant for her—hooks to the jaw, uppercuts to the ribs. I even broke someone's cheekbone while defending her and ended up facing a lawsuit. But he was the one crossing boundaries with her. I have confronted gunmen, knife-wielders, and troublemakers brandishing absurd objects like water pistols, bags of glitter, and even sex toys—anything to inflict harm. I have whisked Regina away from fervent crowds that posed a threat to her safety, ensuring every roo

ASHTON Six months ago, in the dead of night, Willow Walsh burst into my room in a flurry. Her face was smothered in an avocado mask, and her brunette hair was twisted up in a pink towel. "Tony?" she whispered urgently. I was still awake, so when I heard her breezy voice, I quickly switched on my lamp. Willow's eyes fell upon the girl nestled under my covers. Both of us completely naked. Willow winced. "I'm sorry. It doesn't matter," she said, ready to leave. In a hushed tone, I pleaded, "Wait." I jumped out of bed and hastily put on my boxer briefs. "Willow," I called out as I sprinted towards the door. The girl from the one-night stand drowsily called my name, and I reassured her, "I'll be right back." I purposely left the door slightly ajar, hoping to discourage her from taking any pictures of my bedroom. Willow was waiting for me in the middle of the staircase. Rodney, stationed at the top, was engrossed in a game on his cellphone. He had been guarding my room that night, gra

LENNOX Ashton descended to the first floor. "It's only been two minutes since I last saw you." "Thirty-three," I corrected, watching Willow settle down on the loveseat and unscrew the bottle of sweet almond oil. I had a feeling I knew its purpose. I shifted my attention to Tony. "Security wants more information about the Camp-Away." Realization dawned on him, and he nodded. "You'll have to wait. I promised Willow a massage, and she comes first." "Are you giving or receiving?" I inquired, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. His eyebrows shot up, and he licked his lips, tilting his head slightly as he rubbed his sharp jaw. I smiled, feeling a flutter in my chest, but I pushed the sensation aside. "The massage, wolf scout. Are you giving or receiving it?" "Receiving," he answered more easily. "Willow is trying out massage therapy." She tied her wavy hair into a low ponytail. "If you two need to discuss the Camp-Away, I can wait—" "No," Ashton firmly replied, shaking his head