Chapter 2: Lines Crossed, Loyalties Tested

Ignoring the stunned crew, I pushed inside and slammed the door behind me. For a split second, I let myself breathe. No one was getting in. Not this time.

The room was thick with sweat and cologne. I locked the door, heart pounding like a jackhammer. This time, I’m not letting anything happen to the boss. Not on my watch.

The boss was sprawled on the couch, sweating and gasping, lips bright red and eyes glassy and unfocused.

He looked like he was burning up from the inside, hair stuck to his forehead, shirt half-unbuttoned. The sight hit me like a sucker punch. He was always the strong one, always in control. Seeing him like this—vulnerable, desperate—made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain.

I’d been his loyal muscle for years, but I’d never really looked at his face. Always figured he was just rugged and handsome, but I never expected him—drugged, flushed, and so damn vulnerable—to look like this.

I caught myself staring, cheeks burning. Years spent watching his back, and I’d never seen him like this—eyes wide, lips parted, a flush climbing his neck. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. Damn.

My mind blanked out, and my face went hot. Shit.

I shook myself, snapping my thoughts back in line. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted. The boss needed me—he needed someone he could trust. That’s all that mattered.

"How’d you get in? Where’s Jamie?" he rasped, voice rough and slurred. He tried to sit up, blinking at me like I was some stranger. All he could think about was Jamie. He had no idea what was coming for him. My gut twisted.

Jamie Morales, with those tacky thick glasses and that scrawny stick-figure body—I never understood what the boss saw in him.

I always thought Jamie looked like he belonged in a college library, not our world. Skinny, nervous, always ducking behind those chunky frames. I never trusted him. Not for a single second.

Not like me. I hit the gym all year round. My muscles are on point—hell, I could break someone in half if I wanted.

I take pride in it. Hours in the gym, pounding the heavy bag, running until my legs gave out. I was built to protect. Built to take hits so the boss never had to.

Back in the day, guys and girls both loved to lean on my chest. Nobody ever complained.

It’s true. I’ve lost count of how many times someone’s crashed out on me at a party, or how many times the boss has joked about me being his personal body pillow. Jamie’s skinny frame? Not even in the same league. Yeah, I’m proud of it.

Thinking that, I flexed and pressed my chest up to the boss’s face. Might as well put it to good use.

It was a bold move, but screw it. If this is what it takes to keep him safe, I’ll do it. I felt his breath against my skin, hot and shaky, and for a second, I wondered if he could feel my heart pounding.

"Boss, Jamie’s shady. I don’t trust him," I said, voice low and steady. I needed him to hear me. Really hear me.

"I trust him. From now on, just come to me if you need anything," he grumbled, sounding annoyed, but I saw the doubt flicker in his eyes. My massive pecs cast a heart-shaped shadow over his face. I couldn’t help but smirk.

I watched as his flushed face went pale, his muscles uncoiling. He scooted away a little, eyes wide with something between fear and confusion.

He looked up at me like I’d just sprouted a second head. I could see the gears turning—trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"What is wrong with you? I don’t like anyone taller than me!" he protested, trying to sound tough, but his voice cracked. I couldn’t help but grin. I yanked off my shirt and grabbed his hands, placing one on my chest and the other on my waist.

"Boss, at a time like this, just make do!" I said, cringing at how ridiculous it sounded, but desperate times, right? His hand was warm against my skin, and I felt his grip tighten—just a little.

He reflexively squeezed my lower back, voice going soft. Vulnerable. "That’s… actually pretty solid."

He glanced behind me, eyes lingering a little too long. I felt my face heat up.

"And you got a pretty nice ass, too," he added, a crooked grin on his lips.

His words made me flush, but I stood my ground. "You really… mean that?"

Jamie must’ve snapped out of it, because suddenly he was banging on the door, loud and desperate.

The pounding was relentless, Jamie’s voice muffled but frantic. Afraid he’d actually bust in and ruin everything, I spun around, straddled the boss’s lap, cupped his face, and kissed him hard.

It was reckless, impulsive—totally out of character for me. But I wasn’t about to let Jamie steal this moment.

"Are you impotent?" the boss blurted, eyes going a little wild…

He wasn’t impotent.

By noon the next day, cheeks burning, I pried the boss’s head off my chest, feeling a little ripped off, honestly.

I hadn’t slept a wink. My whole body ached in places I didn’t know existed. The boss was still clinging to me, hair a mess, lips swollen. I felt like I’d run a marathon and come in dead last. Ugh.

"Boss, it really hurts…" I whined, trying to sound tough, but there was a definite whimper in my voice. He looked up at me, still hungry, and patted my ass like he owned it.

"Didn’t know you’d be such a wild one in bed," he said, voice hoarse and rough from hours of moaning. He handed me a glass of water, then flopped back down beside me, looking way too satisfied.

"Tell me, how’d you end up in my bed?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious, like he couldn’t piece together how we’d gone from bodyguard and boss to… whatever the hell this was. Since I’d already gone wild, I just rolled over to face him, not bothering to hide my smirk.

"Boss, can you break up with Jamie?" I blurted, the words out before I could stop myself. My heart thudded in my chest. He was quiet for a second, then kicked me out of bed.

His foot caught me square in the hip, and I tumbled to the floor, tangled in sheets. "You little punk, didn’t think you were this ambitious! First you crawl into my bed, now you want me to dump Jamie? You’ve got some nerve!" he barked. I lay there, half-annoyed, half-anxious, my butt throbbing from the fall.

I scrambled to my feet, rubbing my sore hip. "Boss, for real, don’t be with Jamie," I said, not even trying to hide how desperate I sounded.

He laughed—a sharp, almost bitter sound. "Mason, since when do you care about this stuff? Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Besides, Jamie’s different. Isn’t having me enough for you?"

"Oh, come on! What are you talking about? Yesterday was a setup—how’s that the same?" I snapped, voice cracking. My eyes stung a little.

I wanted to look away, but forced myself to meet his gaze. "You can ignore me, but I’m begging you, don’t be with Jamie. He… he’s seeing someone else! He’s been hiding it from you, using your money to keep someone on the side!"

I know spreading rumors is low, but I couldn’t help it.

Desperation makes you reckless. I’d do anything to keep him safe—even if it meant lying through my teeth.

The boss’s face went dark, and in the end, he just told me to get out. No yelling, no arguing. He just turned away, voice flat. I knew I’d gone too far, but there was no taking it back now.

The clothes on the floor were all trashed, so I had to grab a couple towels from the bathroom, wrap myself up, and limp out, looking like a total idiot.

I looked ridiculous—like some half-naked wrestler sneaking through a stranger’s house. My pride took another hit, but I kept my chin up. No way was I letting Jamie see me sweat.

"Wait," the boss called, cheeks red. He fished a couple shirts out of the closet and shoved them into my hands.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. "Why are you going out wrapped in towels?" he grumbled, voice rough but with a weird softness to it. For a second, I almost smiled.

So I limped out, wearing clothes that smelled like him. They were soft, worn in all the right places. I could smell his cologne, a faint trace of cigarettes. It felt weirdly intimate—like I was carrying a piece of him with me. Didn’t hate it.

I didn’t expect Jamie to still be outside the door. He was pacing, arms crossed, face twisted with jealousy. The second he saw me, his eyes narrowed to slits.

His face looked awful—flat-out pissed.

He stepped closer, voice low and sharp. "You’re disgusting. Last night, it should’ve been me who went in!" he hissed. As I passed him, he muttered something else, but I didn’t bother to listen.

I didn’t bother to answer. In my last life, I barely talked to Jamie. He’d always slink straight to the boss’s office, pretend to refuse a few times, then leave with the money. Fake as hell.

Looking back, maybe he just acted too innocent, so I ignored him for so long.

I smirked, tugging down my collar to show off the marks on my neck. Might as well rub it in.

I let the bruises show, just to twist the knife. "What? Jealous?" I said, voice dripping with smugness.

"Boss was wild last night, if you know what I mean," I drawled, dragging out the words, letting them hang in the air. Not far away, I heard the sound of glass shattering—someone must’ve dropped a tumbler in the kitchen.