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“I Just Need You”
“Could you maybe try to look more like college students? The dark clothes make you stand out and, frankly, I don’t want to be known as ‘the girl with the bodyguards’.”
“You are the girl with the bodyguards,” Tristan clipped.
I cocked my head. “It’s a request.”
“Requests don’t have to be granted,” he fired back.
I opened my mouth to respond—
“We’ll do what we can,” Marco interrupted, clearly the calmer of the two. “As long as our weapons are concealed, I don’t see why we can’t try to blend in a little more.” He turned around and walked to his room without another word.
I expected Tristan to follow him, but he didn’t.
Perfect. “Let’s just get this out of the way now then,” I said to Tristan as Marco’s door closed. “I don’t know what your problem is with me—”
He scoffed. Scoffed.
I trudged on, getting more pissed by the second. “You work for me. A little common courtesy is not too much to ask.”
He rolled his eyes.
God dammit. “If I can’t trust you to protect me if things go wrong, my parents can find someone else who can.”
His eyes narrowed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“This whole not knowing me thing after you blatantly disrespected me last night. Maybe I didn’t know who you were at the bar, but you knew who I was. So, what gives?”
“Girls like you are what gives.”
My head shot back so fast I was surprised it didn’t slam into the door behind me. “Excuse me?”
“You were almost taken in France.”
“Thanks for the recap. But I know what happened.”
He shook his head, his teeth clenched and jaw ticking. “You’re careless.”
I pointed to myself. “I’m careless? I’ve got two bodyguards for Christ’s sake.”
“You get one life to live. Think about how you want to live it.”
“Wow. So, now you’re a philosopher?”
“It’s no secret there are people out there who still may want to get to you.”
“Yes. And that’s why you’re here.”
“So, why the bar? Was it absolutely necessary to go out last night?” he asked.
“What I do is none of your business.”
“The hell it isn’t. I had to be there an hour and a half early—with added security—securing the place, not to mention overseeing every fucker they let in there.”
I hated that I was being reprimanded. I’d only wanted to make friends and find a way to sleep. But maybe he was right. Maybe I should’ve considered how it would affect them. Maybe I should’ve considered the work they needed to put in every time I went somewhere.
“I could have been someone trying to get to you,” he continued. “But you were standing there all drunk gazing at me like you would’ve gone home with me if only I asked.”
My mouth parted, too stunned by his words to respond.