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When did my life become so complicated?
As soon as my boss walks away, I start toward my dressing room, the book still clutched to my chest.
“Brin,” Sawyer calls after me. “Where are you going?”
I stop and look at him over my shoulder. “I’m going home,” I whisper. I hate feeling scared. I hate feeling this place isn’t safe for me anymore. “It’s fine.”
“Is he going to be a problem?” He nods at my boss who is now talking to some customers.
“No. You shouldn’t have gotten involved. I’m okay.”
He spears me with that intense gaze of his. “Are you leaving now?”
“Yeah, I’m just gonna grab my stuff,” I whisper, my actions contradicting my bravado from moments ago.
“We’ll take you home.”
“No,” I say. “I’m going alone.”
The guys exchange glances.
This has to stop, this… having them here, at my place of work, acting all overprotective and caring. It’s a terrible idea.
“We’ll wait until you’re out of here,” Roman says.
And I’m annoyed that I’m so grateful. I’m not used to men looking out for me. Anyone looking out for me, for that matter. It’s both amazing and nerve-racking because I can’t get used to it. Can’t trust it.
“He wouldn’t…” I lick dry lips. “He wouldn’t force me into anything. He pays for anything extra he has me do.”
“But you don’t want this.” He gives me a long, searching look. “Do you? Do you want these extras?”
“I need the money,” I whisper.
“Girl…”
“You should go home.” I nod at the exit. “I don’t want bodyguards.”
Their brows draw together.
“But—” Roman starts.
“I’m staying,” Sawyer says, always so stubborn. “I’ll walk you home. We need to talk.”
I press my lips together and march to my dressing room, but he follows me. I sit in front of the mirror and shove the book into my bag. Nobody else is inside.
When he stops at the door, I sigh. With nobody else in here, the fear returns—and so does the longing to stand close to Sawyer again, feel his warmth, smell his delicious scent, feel that sense of belonging he wakes in me.
As if he really likes me. As if he would really like to have me by his side.
“Brin,” he says quietly. “Let me walk you home. Please. I’d feel better knowing you got home okay.”
And my last defenses crumble. They took a good hammering tonight. I think of my brother, of how he doesn’t want me telling our problems to anyone, how he’d like me to be safe, how worried he’d be if he knew what I’m doing for money.
My thoughts clash and collide.
I don’t say no. I should. I want Sawyer to stay, because I’m scared.
But also because I want him to come home with me.
