Secret Agents: My Savior

08 Bodyguard

"You have a personal chauffeur this morning," my boss, a sweet woman in her mid-fifties, and also my friend's mother, says as a greeting when I arrive at the boutique Monday morning.

Monday freaking morning.

I've never been a fan of Mondays, especially not mornings, but it's now worse since I woke up in my ex-boyfriend's guest room, who's an agent and also my new bodyguard, and I realized I needed to get to work and that he would follow me all day.

So yes, as Mrs. Wilson just said, he's my new fucking personal driver. Yikes.

I take a deep breath. I shouldn't let my anger or whatever I feel right now get to me. Because that's true. I have no idea what it is that I feel.

Turning my head, I look at my bodyguard standing in the corner of the boutique, his black jeans fitting his long legs perfectly, his black t-shirt fitting his hard torso perfectly, and I know somewhere between all that tightness, he hides a gun or two, and—

What the hell? Get a grip, Alex!

Oh God. I became my worst nightmare.

I used to date a lot, back in high school. Maybe not a lot, but I was the outgoing girl. I loved to flirt with cute boys, and I watched as Elena rolled her eyes every time.

Then I met Enzo and I didn't have to do that. First, I didn't even have time to worry about boys when my best friend disappeared as well as all of her family and Jake and Enzo. Second, Enzo made me forget about all the boys I've ever talked to.

The history is repeating itself, I guess. He plays the role of the bodyguard for my protection, and it fucking annoys me.

Something is different today, though. Back in high school, people couldn't know about him or Jake and who they really are. Now, Enzo doesn't seem to care if he genuinely looks like a...

Bodyguard. Agent. Whatever fits him.

The serious expression he's wearing seems to be a facade so no one bothers him. And it works. Women look at him, and before they go and flirt with him, they decide against it, wondering if a star is in the boutique.

I snort.

Mrs. Wilson raises her eyebrow. I shake my head and prepare myself to work. As I step in front of the cash register, I can't help but glance up at the corner of the room.

Enzo catches my eyes. His expression softens a little, and he stares back at me, waiting. I don't know why I'm looking at him. I don't know what I'm doing.

Someone whistles lowly beside me, and I finally look away from him.

"Hot as fuck," Jessica Wilson states before she glances at me with a mysterious smile.

Her mother tsks, throwing a look at her daughter.

I fake glare at her. "Back off, Jess."

Her smile widens. "I fucking knew it. He's the guy."

"The guy?" I repeat in a mumble, looking at my nails.

She ties her long black hair in a high ponytail, winking at me before she answers.

"Yep. The guy who broke your heart, the guy who prevents you to date anybody..."

"I'm sorry, did you get your coffee this morning? Or are you always so bitchy and direct?" I say, but we both know I'm just joking, my lips forming a smile.

"You know I don't need that. I'm just naturally a straight woman who has eyes." She pauses to glance at Enzo, then she wiggles her eyebrows at me. "And who has no filter," she finishes, winking.