Everything I feel about Aerin is neatly packaged in a little box in my mind and stuffed down as deep as I can.
She’s my mission.
Nothing more.
My resolve lasts most of the day.
I keep watch on Aerin while she has dinner with her brother, laughing as if our training session and rejection didn’t happen.
I shadow her as she spends the evening baking and is joined briefly by her father.
His presence is a stiff reminder of my fate should he find out I crossed the very firm line he placed.
They talk briefly about her brownies and cookies, then he takes one and heads to bed while patting his chest to try and ease the chesty cough he’s been dealing with the past few days.
The head of security warned me to keep an eye on him because a cough at his age can make him seem weak to his peers, so I’m prepared to step in with any number of predetermined distractions should someone unfitting glimpse Guido in his unwell state.
Aerin heads to bed a little after eleven and closes the door in my face. She doesn’t speak a single word to me, she doesn’t even look at me.
I can’t blame her.
I remain outside her room for the majority of the night until a night guard relieves me and sends me back to my room for rest.
In the solace of my room, one far too lavish for my tastes, I situate myself on the floor and attempt to clear my mind of everything and anything so sleep can follow.
Clearing my mind unfortunately unlocks the Aerin box, and once again, she’s all I can think about.
She runs rampant around my thoughts like a fever, so I force myself to do push-ups until my arms are stiff and aching from being overworked.
I turn to sit-ups and lunges, pushing my body to the point of exhaustion so that when I finally do tumble into bed, I sleep.
But sleep doesn’t come.
Every single time I relax enough to drift off, Aerin’s face pops into my thoughts. I can’t escape her.
The more I try to avoid her, the more she consumes me until I’m far too tired to do anything but embrace her beautiful face in my mind and the subtle warmth that rises in my chest at the thought of her.
Does her being off limits increase my desire for her?
No. I thought she was beautiful the moment I saw her in the restaurant.
Back then, I kept myself strictly professional with my eyes forward. But in my peripheral vision, I admired how gorgeous she looked in that dress with her hair up and her makeup perfect.
Her smile lit up the room, bright and full of life.
Until that family of assassins burst into action. My thoughts drift to how stunning she looked when I threw myself in front of her.
I didn’t think. I just acted.
There was even a moment of relief when I was certain death would come and I found peace in knowing I died so someone like her could keep on living.
“Fuck.” I curse the darkness, staring up at nothing while my heart races.
I’ve done this before. I can’t let this go any further. Aerin is not mine and she never will be.
She deserves someone whole. Someone kind and good and much more age appropriate.
Someone who won’t be killed for touching her. Or for kissing her.
