All Chapters of Her Mafia Bodyguard: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Now I know his ass is in a sling even more than mine is. I don’t want Dad to be angry with me, but it’s not like I could lose my job over it the way Zeke would—at the very least. He always makes it seem like that would be the least of his problems.“He said I shouldn’t come home for Thanksgiving.”His eyebrows knit together instantly. “What? Why?”“Something to do with business. I don’t know.” I shrug it off. “You would probably know better than I would, honestly. You know more about his business than I do.”“Not anymore. And even then, I wasn’t exactly his right-hand man.” He rubs the back of his neck, the other hand on his hip, staring at the floor. Deep in thought. “He’s always got business. Why would that stop you from coming home?”“Honestly? I don’t even care.”“You don’t? I figured you would look forward to having time off.”“Time off from what? From school?” I can’t believe he’s being so dense. “I won’t have any schoolwork to do here, either, right?”“That’s true…”I walk towa

Mia’s sleeping in my arms an hour after we went to bed, but I’m nowhere near sleepy. I can’t even stir up any interest in doing more than lying here next to her.I ate myself sick tonight. We both did. Sex was the last thing on our minds by the time we stumbled to bed after watching holiday movies. I still think it’s too early for that shit, but she disagrees—and I knew better than to argue.Besides, it made her happy.And I think that’s why I can’t sleep. Why I have to carefully extract myself from bed, doing everything I can to keep from waking her up. She’s out cold, though, snoring softly. She deserves it after all the work she put into making it a nice holiday.I’m still too full and too uneasy. It’s the uneasiness that gets me dressed in sweats with the intention of heading down to the gym. I’m not going to put in a full workout—I’d never get to sleep if I did—but at least a walk on the treadmill might help me think. I make sure to arm the alarm using the app on my phone once I’

“Does he think you’re being lax with my protection? Is that why you’re sitting outside, watching?”“No. He knows everything is fine here.” He takes off his jacket, hanging it by the door before going to the kitchen for a drink. I follow him, hopping up on the counter. The marble is cold under my legs, but what’s more important is getting to the bottom of what’s bothering him. The fact that he hardly looks at me doesn’t do wonders for my self-esteem, let’s put it that way.“What changed? You were so open with me. Is that the problem? You don’t want to be open with me anymore?”He shoots me a look like I’m crazy. “No. What would make you think that?” All of a sudden, he’s very interested in the cap to his water bottle. Like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.“Let’s start with the way you won’t look at me for longer than a split second.”He shoots me a look from under his lowered brow. “Happy?”“Thrilled. Thanks so much.” He rolls his eyes, which only irritates me more. “You

“You know what.” She scowls before poking me in the chest. “You promised if I did a good enough job today, we would do something cool. Considering I feel sore from head to toe, I think I did pretty well.”“Pretty well? I knocked you on your ass.”“But I tried hard, didn’t I? And you can’t pretend I’m not getting better.” She’s got me there. She might not have a lot of physical strength, she’s quick, and she understands physics. You don’t have to be the strongest so long as you know how to leverage the strength you have.Still, I pretend to think about it, letting her stew a little. When she’s as close as she’s going to come to boiling over without actually doing it, I give in. “Okay, let’s get showered up, and we’ll do what I had in mind.”“It’s not sex, is it?”“And would that be so bad?”“I’m just saying, is it something besides that?”“Yes, and I’m going to try not to take it personally that you’re so concerned.” She only rolls her eyes before following me. I massage her shoulders,

I’m too busy sulking silently to notice when Posey opens her door. She’s in something cute and slinky and sexy, her New Year’s dress. Apparently, her grandfather throws a hell of a party with big, popular musicians and New York’s best chefs catering the event. It’s the sort of thing that gets written about in newspapers.“Hot,” I confirm when she steps up next to me. “I wish I was as tall as you. You can carry off a look like that, but I can’t.”“Please, like you don’t look like a million bucks in this. Give me a spin.” I do as she asks, and she whistles appreciatively.Until she sees my shoulder blades, that is.“Are these bruises?” she whispers, touching a finger to one of them. They’re more than a week old, and now I wish I had worn my hair down to hide them. I’m sure their ugly, greenish-yellow color is disturbing.“Oh, yeah. I told you I’ve been taking self-defense lessons.”She narrows her dark eyes. “What was the first lesson? How to get thrown on the ground without panicking?”