Page 5 of Rival for Rent
“Okay, fine, Dr. Dating Advice. But you guys go to weddings. You don’t carry concealed weapons and knock heads together.”
“Most of us don’t,” Amir said. “But there’s a new guy who might be perfect for what you need. I don’t know if he owns a gun, but he’s definitely big. And to be honest, he could use more work.”
“So my bodyguard is a charity case?”
“You love charity.”
“Idon’tlove charity. I love when our government provides for the safety and well-being of its most vulnerable citizens through a well-funded public safety net. But it never does, so philanthropy has to step in.”
It was a small nit to pick, but being detail-oriented had gotten me where I was. I didn’t mind spending my money on good causes. I just wished I didn’t have to.
“My point is, this guy isn’t even a professional bodyguard. He’s just…some dude? Another escort looking for work?”
“Not even,” Amir said. “He’s the founder’s brother. But he does backup whenever one of the women meets a new client. He lurks in the background, looks strong and serious. He’d be perfect for what you need.”
“And you think he’s going to be free for the next month?”
That was how long I had until the Butterfly Center opened.
“I don’t know.” Amir shrugged. “But you’re the one who’s not even sold on the idea. Just call them. Find out if this guy’s free for your theater thing tomorrow night, and take it from there.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is. Now, if that’s settled, can we please order pizza or something? I’m starving, and I don’t want to have to eat Bella.”
That was last night. It had all sounded so simple, so sane, at the time. Simple enough that I’d actually followed through and called Heartbreakers Anonymous, explaining what I needed in a voicemail.
I’d been careful and used my middle name, Oscar. Kai Jacinto was a big enough name in some circles to raise eyebrows, and I didn’t want this getting out.
The woman who called back said it was no problem. She’d send someone over tonight, in time to travel with me to the Trevi Theater and back.
Now the guy was due in fifteen minutes, and I felt like I was going to vomit.
I kept pacing the downstairs—living room, kitchen, dining room, and back—while Bella walked beside me. Was she judging me, or was I imagining it? I’d adopted her on a whim, thinking a seventy-pound dog might scare off whoever was harassing me, but so far, her favorite activities were couch naps and slobbering—in friendly fashion—all over the people we met on our walks.
“Sorry, girl.” I reached down to scratch behind her ears. “Your new dad is a little crazy. I should’ve warned you at the shelter so you could have picked someone else.”
She licked my fingers, and I laughed softly.
“God, I’m a mess. Talking to my dog like she understands me. What the hell is wrong with me?”
Bella opened her mouth—probably to lick me again—but I held up a finger.
“Don’t answer that.”
Too many things were wrong with me. I was still single. I barely had friends. I didn’t know how to cook or clean or take care of my house. I had no hobbies. I worked, went on long runs, and slept. That was it.
When was the last time I’d even been on a date? Long enough ago that I couldn’t remember. Kind of ridiculous for a guy championing queer joy to not havedoneanything queer in two years.
It wasn’t just the long hours. It was a lack of confidence. I wasn’t hideous, I knew that—but I still paused in front of the entryway mirror, eyeing my jawline. Amir’s words echoed in my head. What ifIwas chinless?
Despite being thirty, I still felt like the scrawny, awkward dweeb I’d been in high school, but with worse posture and better shoes. Putting myself out there was hard. And now that I had a name in tech, the stakes felt even higher. Plus, a lot of guys seemed interested in dating me solely because I had money. So I didn’t—date, that is. And I got more awkward by the month.
“This is ridiculous,” I told Bella for the seventy-third time. “I should cancel. I can go to the musical alone—or not at all. The Michaelsons won’t be that offended. I’ll tell them I’m sick. I’m going up front to get my phone and—”
A knock at the door cut me off. I glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink. Five minutes to six. Was it my bodyguard, or my stalker? My heart raced, and another knock followed.
Bella didn’t bark. She just walked to the door and sat, panting, looking at me like, ‘Well?’
