Chapter 6

• ASHTON
• With a firm grip on the steering wheel, I make my way towards the grocery store, multitasking by holding my phone in my other hand. Using a notes app, I begin listing the items I need to buy, but frustration quickly wells up within me as the automated voice misinterprets my words. It reads back a garbled version of my list that leaves me annoyed and shooting a glare at my phone.
• Sitting in the passenger seat, Lennox finds the situation amusing and suggests I brake. Caught off guard, I slam on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision with a white sedan. It's only been two days since Lennox became my bodyguard, and I'm already feeling the impact of having someone constantly around.
• My mind is scattered, my nerves are rattled, and there's a growing tension building up inside me. Specifically, it's sexual tension. It's been 48 hours since I last had sex, and even this morning in the shower, I couldn't help but imagine Lennox while trying to masturbate. It was a futile effort to resist. The hot water cascaded over me as I stroked my throbbing erection, desperately seeking release.
• A persistent fantasy keeps replaying in my mind, no matter how hard I try to push it away. It involves Lennox stepping into the shower right behind me, the steamy glass doors fogging up, and the heat becoming almost suffocating. His dominant presence presses against my back, his strong arm wrapping around me, and his hand firmly gripping mine against the tiled wall. The water pours over his sculpted muscles, and I find myself tracing his inked skin with my eyes. His lips graze the base of my neck, moving up to my ear, where he whispers in his deep, gravelly voice.
• "Ashton!" Lennox snaps his fingers in front of my face, jolting me out of my fantasy. I curse internally, realizing I had lost myself in my thoughts once again. I shake myself back to reality, focusing on driving, only to notice that I've been gripping my phone too tightly. Lennox is staring at me as if I've just returned from another dimension. How did I even end up lost in that shower scene again? I was desperately trying to forget it, banish it from my mind forever.
• Lennox is about to inquire about my mental absence, but I beat him to it, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. "I was thinking about Willow." What the hell is wrong with me? Willow, really? She's my cousin, for crying out loud. Trying to salvage the situation, I quickly add, "You know, I'm on my way to see her."
• Upon reaching the grocery store, where Lennox and I often go together, something feels off. His gaze lingers on me, studying me intently. The atmosphere between us becomes stifling, and I tense up, but I manage to maintain my composure. I don't want to show any signs of discomfort, especially not to him.
• Unexpectedly, Lennox reaches out his arm towards me, causing confusion to furrow my brows. I can't quite comprehend his intentions. He leaves his arm resting on the back of my seat, and I can't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Is he about to make a sudden move?
• Slowly, a smirk creeps across Lennox's lips, and he absentmindedly scratches his brow where his barbell piercings are. "You seem distracted," he remarks, his words laced with amusement.
• "I'm fine," I respond, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. My attention is torn between the road ahead and Lennox beside me. I'm on the verge of saying something, but all that comes to mind is an inappropriate thought.
• I reminded myself that he was my bodyguard, but lately, I found him even more appealing with that title. The shift in my perception had taken me by surprise. When he wasn't guarding me, thoughts of him consumed my mind. It seemed impossible to detach myself from thinking about Lennox, even for a moment.
• "Give it," Lennox motioned towards my hand, breaking my train of thought.
• Confused, I looked at my phone. "What?"
• "Since you won't let me drive, the least I can do is help you by typing out your grocery list," he explained, his arm still draped over the back of my seat.
• I hesitated. I was used to handling things on my own, and it was hard for me to give up control. "You're not my assistant," I muttered.
• "I'm the guy who's trying to keep us both safe on the road," he responded, sounding a bit exasperated. "You clearly need both hands on the wheel, so..." He gestured for me to give him the phone, and when I remained silent, he added, "Or you can pull over and let me drive—"
• Without saying a word, I dropped my phone onto his lap, accepting defeat.
• "You really don't want me to drive," he teased, resting his boot on the seat and his elbow on his bent knee. He held my phone in his hands. "The day I finally get to drive you around will be even more satisfying."
• "The day," I scoffed. "You mean the day that will never happen? That one?" I noticed him rolling his eyes before I pointed at my phone. "Is it unlocked?"
• "I'm already in your notes," he replied, fixing the spelling errors made by the app.
• "Willow texted me a list of things she needs," I mentioned, switching lanes. Two paparazzi vans were tailing us, so I kept a constant eye on my rearview mirror. "Her text thread should be at the top."
• He whistled, clearly surprised. "One hundred unread text messages," he exclaimed. I could sense his astonishment as he added, "You're actually going against your own moral code."
• I shot him a glare and reached out for my phone.
• Quickly, he pulled it out of my reach. "Thou shall not ignore thy family," he teased.
• "You think you're so clever," I retorted, effortlessly maneuvering between two pick-up trucks and skillfully evading the paparazzi. "Those texts are all from today, Sherlock." I dismissed my blinker with a flick of my hand.
• "Are you serious?" he asked, his curiosity evident.
• "Yep. I'm part of twelve different group chats with various family members," I explained. With eleven cousins alone, not to mention my siblings, parents, aunts, and uncles, we were always in constant communication. "If I can't respond during the day, I catch up on my texts at night."
• He leisurely scrolled through the chat thread with Willow, his brows furrowing in concern. "What if someone has an emergency?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.
• I paused for a moment, caught off guard by his question. It was rare for me to share these personal details, but something about him made me feel comfortable. "I usually scan the messages quickly in case someone is in distress, but they would usually call me if it's something serious," I replied, surprised by my own openness.
• There was a sense of trust between us.
• It helped that he had been a part of my life long before becoming my bodyguard, though that was a separate matter entirely.
• We sat in silence for a moment as he tapped away on my notes app. "Willow is asking for chocolate turtles, pretzels, tampons, and lemonade packets," he informed me, adjusting the air vents to blow cold air in my direction.
• I glanced at him briefly before focusing my attention back on the road. "Are you feeling cold?" I asked, willing to adjust the temperature for his comfort.
• He typed on my notepad app, "You looked hot."
• How on earth could he tell? "I'm not cold," I protested, increasing the temperature to a warmer setting.
• Lennox continued scrolling through his phone. "I still have enough time to call the store. I can arrange for someone to gather all the items on your list," he suggested, considering it a safer option.
• That way, I wouldn't be bombarded by shoppers in the aisles. Alpha, being the thorough organization it was, went the extra mile to ensure my family's privacy and secure entrances and exits by even shutting down the grocery store.
• "No," I stated firmly. "I'd rather handle the grocery shopping myself." It might take a while, but I didn't want to inconvenience someone else or take up their time.
• "Okay," he replied, sounding genuinely accepting of my decision.
• I had anticipated a brief argument, but to my relief, it seemed like I might not have to go through that. I felt a slight release of tension in my muscles. "Just so you know," I warned him, "there will be paparazzi waiting to swarm me as soon as I leave the store. They'll try to get close and take pictures of my shopping bags."
• He listened attentively.
• "I don't mind if they see what I bought, so don't worry about pushing them back. I just need to be able to leave reasonably quickly."
• "I'll make sure you get out safely," he responded with unwavering certainty, holding up my phone. "Is there anything else you need?"
• "Ground beef, chips, taco seasoning, everything bagels, oatmeal, protein bars and shakes..." I trailed off, realizing I also needed condoms and more lube. Damn it.
• As I abruptly came to a stop, I could sense his confusion brewing. However, undeterred by my actions, he continued typing those items.
• I realized that I shouldn't hold back around him. At some point, I knew I would have a one-night stand, perhaps even with him. He might even hear me climax through the damn door or wall. I had consciously made an effort not to treat sex as a taboo subject in my life. With people I trusted, I aimed to discuss it as casually as the weather. My parents had raised me to have a positive outlook on sex.
• And that mindset remained intact, at least until I met my untimely demise.
• "What else?" Lennox glanced at me, his confusion evident.
• I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel, my voice taking on a sharp and edgy tone, like a serrated knife ready to slice him up. "Get at least three boxes of condoms and water-based lube," I said, trying to regain control of my emotions. "Calm down. I'm on edge," I reminded myself.
• "I understand that," Lennox replied, resting his foot on the car mat and sitting up straighter. He started typing on my phone, and a heavy silence enveloped the car. As I focused on the evening traffic and a van that came dangerously close to my bumper, I couldn't decipher his reaction.
• I had been consciously driving only fifteen miles over the speed limit, attempting to show him that it wasn't a ‘speeding habit’ but rather a choice I could control. It was a decision I made.
• But it was hard not to rev up to thirty over when the paparazzi were tailing us this closely.
• To create some distance between us and the paparazzi, I briefly accelerated to overtake a Mustang and change lanes. As I slowed down, Lennox lowered his arm to the center console.
• With his typing finished, he spoke up, "Silicone-based lube feels better than water-based."
• I stole a quick glance at him, admitting, "I've never tried it."
• He kept his hand near his mouth, leaving me puzzled about the meaning behind that gesture. I shifted my gaze back to the road, then back to him, and again to the road. Then, I realized he was smiling. Catching sight of his expression, he let his hand drop, his lips stretching wide, and he leaned forward in his seat, typing something on my phone.
• "What are you doing?" I inquired.
• He turned his head towards me, a few strands of bleach-white hair falling over his eyelashes. "I'm noting down my favorite lube for you, wolf scout."
• As I felt my body betraying me, I tightened my abdominal muscles in a futile attempt to suppress the rising arousal. The world seemed cruel in that moment, as if mocking my struggle. I despised this predicament, desperately trying to fend off any signs of attraction that threatened to consume me.
• Trying to regain composure, I mustered a weak response, "Cool," as he handed back my phone. The irony wasn't lost on me. How ‘cool’ it was to have my childhood crush now serving as my bodyguard, casually selecting the very product that could intensify my desires. It certainly wouldn't make it any easier to resist indulging in fantasies about him.
• What a brilliant decision I had made, entrusting my intimate preferences to someone I couldn't help but be infatuated with. Perhaps dropping out of Harvard had been a misguided choice after all. In that moment, I couldn't help but question the wisdom of my actions.