strolled out of the apartment toward the SUV. I jumped when Brad fell into step next to me—he must have been standing right outside the apartment, waiting. “Jesus! You mind warning me next time you set up an ambush?”
“Give me a break—that was hardly an ambush.” We climbed into the backseat.
China ended her phone call and straightened in the driver’s seat. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror as she turned the ignition. “Awareness of your surroundings goes into the shitter when you’re drunk, Mr. Monroe. It makes it harder for us to protect you.”
“I’m not drunk.” Happily buzzed, yes. Drunk, no .
“How many beers did you have?”
I looked away from the mirror. “None of your damn business.”
“You are my business.” China pulled our oversized vehicle into traffic. “Everything about you. How would it look if the media discovered you drinking? That would hurt your mother’s campaign, you know.”
“Every college student drinks.”
Brad chimed in. “Yeah, but you’re not every college student. You’re the son of the Democratic nominee for president.”
Brad could be cool, but not when he was around China. It was like she rode the crimson wave every day of the month, and her bitchy hormones seemed to affect everyone around her.
“Look, I didn’t ask for this, okay? I didn’t ask for freaking chaperones. I already have parents.”
“Well, your mother’s kind of busy right now,” China said, “and I’ve never even met your father.”
My face got hot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She looked up in the mirror, and her forehead creased. “Uh, it means I’ve never met your father. What do you think I meant?”
I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of admitting anything. I kept my mouth shut and looked out the window, pleased to see the convenience store on the corner. We were close to home.
“I know this situation sucks for you,” Brad said, and I unclenched my fists a little. “Nobody wants supervision round the clock. But we got no choice here. Congress ordered us to protect you, and we follow orders.”
I sighed. He didn’t know I’d already followed coaches’ orders all my life. I could certainly comply with orders from those I respected. But, like many adults I’d encountered, these two simply hadn’t earned my respect. They were giant pains in my ass.
“What the hell?” As China slowed down, my buzz vanished. Reporters swarmed the gate of the greenhouse, hovering like angry hornets. Why the fuck were they here? After China’s warning about me hurting my mom’s campaign, I straightened up, then looked down at my shirt to make sure there weren’t any beer stains. I would’ve killed for a breath mint.
“Shit, they saw us.” Brad blew out a breath, and I realized the SUV had come to a stop. “Go ahead, China. Let’s face the music.”
“But they’ll come inside the gate if we go in now.”
Brad grunted. “What choice do we have? If we turn around, they’ll follow us.”
That sounded pretty good to me—I could stay hidden in the vehicle until I sobered up. “Why don’t we do that?”
“Because the president of Highbanks University told us to keep a low profile,” China answered. “He threatened to complain to our supervisor if we—” She performed air quotes. “—‘make a scene’ in town.”
She eased the car forward, much to my unease. A few intrepid reporters jogged toward us.
“I bet this is about the Yemen thing.” Brad gave me an evil smile. “Maybe they want your opinion.”
My heart lurched.
He snickered. “Your drunk-ass opinion.”
If he weren’t so muscular, I would’ve clocked him.
“ Dane!” one yelled, easily heard through the bulletproof glass.
“ Mr. Monroe! How do you like living with Lucia Ramirez?”
My stomach clenched, and Brad’s eyebrows shot up.
“That was fast,” China muttered as she pressed the remote to open the gate. “Who’d you tell about Lucia moving in?”
“Just Josh! He
“Give me a break—that was hardly an ambush.” We climbed into the backseat.
China ended her phone call and straightened in the driver’s seat. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror as she turned the ignition. “Awareness of your surroundings goes into the shitter when you’re drunk, Mr. Monroe. It makes it harder for us to protect you.”
“I’m not drunk.” Happily buzzed, yes. Drunk, no .
“How many beers did you have?”
I looked away from the mirror. “None of your damn business.”
“You are my business.” China pulled our oversized vehicle into traffic. “Everything about you. How would it look if the media discovered you drinking? That would hurt your mother’s campaign, you know.”
“Every college student drinks.”
Brad chimed in. “Yeah, but you’re not every college student. You’re the son of the Democratic nominee for president.”
Brad could be cool, but not when he was around China. It was like she rode the crimson wave every day of the month, and her bitchy hormones seemed to affect everyone around her.
“Look, I didn’t ask for this, okay? I didn’t ask for freaking chaperones. I already have parents.”
“Well, your mother’s kind of busy right now,” China said, “and I’ve never even met your father.”
My face got hot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She looked up in the mirror, and her forehead creased. “Uh, it means I’ve never met your father. What do you think I meant?”
I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of admitting anything. I kept my mouth shut and looked out the window, pleased to see the convenience store on the corner. We were close to home.
“I know this situation sucks for you,” Brad said, and I unclenched my fists a little. “Nobody wants supervision round the clock. But we got no choice here. Congress ordered us to protect you, and we follow orders.”
I sighed. He didn’t know I’d already followed coaches’ orders all my life. I could certainly comply with orders from those I respected. But, like many adults I’d encountered, these two simply hadn’t earned my respect. They were giant pains in my ass.
“What the hell?” As China slowed down, my buzz vanished. Reporters swarmed the gate of the greenhouse, hovering like angry hornets. Why the fuck were they here? After China’s warning about me hurting my mom’s campaign, I straightened up, then looked down at my shirt to make sure there weren’t any beer stains. I would’ve killed for a breath mint.
“Shit, they saw us.” Brad blew out a breath, and I realized the SUV had come to a stop. “Go ahead, China. Let’s face the music.”
“But they’ll come inside the gate if we go in now.”
Brad grunted. “What choice do we have? If we turn around, they’ll follow us.”
That sounded pretty good to me—I could stay hidden in the vehicle until I sobered up. “Why don’t we do that?”
“Because the president of Highbanks University told us to keep a low profile,” China answered. “He threatened to complain to our supervisor if we—” She performed air quotes. “—‘make a scene’ in town.”
She eased the car forward, much to my unease. A few intrepid reporters jogged toward us.
“I bet this is about the Yemen thing.” Brad gave me an evil smile. “Maybe they want your opinion.”
My heart lurched.
He snickered. “Your drunk-ass opinion.”
If he weren’t so muscular, I would’ve clocked him.
“ Dane!” one yelled, easily heard through the bulletproof glass.
“ Mr. Monroe! How do you like living with Lucia Ramirez?”
My stomach clenched, and Brad’s eyebrows shot up.
“That was fast,” China muttered as she pressed the remote to open the gate. “Who’d you tell about Lucia moving in?”
“Just Josh! He
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