Cole does not laugh. “It’s not location-tagged?”
“Not directly.”
“Caption names the town.”
My smile fades. “Oh.”
He holds out his hand, and I give him the phone. The move is automatic, which should bother me more than it does. Yesterday, I would have called it controlling. Today, after watching him handle the teenage fan without shaming her, after seeing the way his body went still at the marina when the word patterns came up, I understand the difference.
Control wants to own. Protection wants to know. Cole studies the screenshot, then taps once to enlarge the image.
“This is what I meant earlier,” he says. “No one has to mean harm for information to move.”
“I know.”
I do know. The girl was sweet. Her mother was careful. They did what Cole asked and waited to post without an exact location tag. But the town name is there. My face is there. Cole is there.
Vanessa’s next message pops up before he can hand the phone back.
Seriously, honey. He’s gorgeous. If this is your bodyguard, I suddenly feel much better about you being there. Maybe too much better. Don’t fall in love with the hot one while you’re emotionally vulnerable. That’s my job to warn you as your unlicensed therapist.
Heat climbs my neck so quickly it feels like betrayal. Cole reads the message because it appears right there between us. For one suspended second, neither of us says anything. Then I reach for the phone. “She’s joking.”
“I know.”
His voice is low and gruff as he agrees.
“She jokes like that,” I add, because apparently I need him to understand Vanessa. “She’s always dramatic.”
“I believe you.”
But he is still looking at the phone. I look down at Vanessa’s words again, and despite the embarrassment warming my face, I smile because she sounds like herself. Teasing. Protective. A little outrageous. She has always been the one who can make me laugh in the middle of a mess. Still, there is something strange about seeing Cole through her eyes.
He is gorgeous, some would say 'hot'. And a little dangerous to joke about.
I type back quickly.
He is standing right here and unfortunately saw that.
Vanessa replies almost instantly.
Good. Then he knows I’m watching out for you.
The words should comfort me. They do … mostly.
Cole’s gaze lifts to mine. “Does she monitor your social media often?”
“No. I mean … yes? Sometimes. She follows me. My publicist does too. Readers tag me. Restaurants tag me. People tag me in photos of recipes they make. It’s normal.”
“Normal before yesterday.”
I hate how gently he says it.
“Yes,” I admit. “Normal before yesterday.”
My phone buzzes again.
Also, I’m proud of you for getting out. Dr. Vale would approve. Fresh air, breakfast, handsome security. Very therapeutic.
