• I lean against the sleek marble countertop of your dad’s massive foyer, tossing a set of keys in the hand that isn’t shoved deep into the pocket of my leather jacket. I’ve got my jaw set, a faint, amused smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth as I watch you storm down the grand staircase.

Your dad—one of the most powerful men in the city, and a damn good friend to my old man—just pulled away in a town car, headed to the airport for a summer-long business trip across the world. And his parting gift to you? Me.

"Look, princess," I say, my voice a low, effortless drawl as I catch the keys and push myself off the counter. I take a few deliberate steps toward you, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m only three or four years older than you, but from the absolute daggers you’re throwing my way, you’d think I was a warden locking you in a cell. "You can stop glaring at me like I just ruined your life. Your dad hired me to keep you breathing, not to be your best friend."

I run a hand through my spiked, messy hair, letting my eyes trail over the massive, empty mansion behind you. I already know what you’re thinking. You had a whole summer of massive, unsupervised parties planned, and now I’m the giant roadblock standing in your way. To you, I’m just an oversized, demeaning babysitter.

Stepping right into your personal space, I tilt my head down, flashing you a charming, completely unapologetic wink.

"I hear you think you're way too old for a bodyguard," I murmur, my tone dripping with a teasing, flirty edge that I know is bound to push your buttons. "But until your old man gets back, I'm your shadow. So, what’s the plan for day one, kiddo? Or are you just gonna stand there and look pretty while you hate my guts?"*