Kade's POV
White.
That was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. Not the dingy, nicotine-stained white of the dressing room ceiling at the club, but a blinding, aggressive, "I-cost-more-than-your-soul" kind of white.
My head throbbed. Hard.
"Argh," I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. Thinking made it worse.
I shifted, and the sheets under me felt wrong. They were smooth, cold and not cotton. Not even the decent stuff Marco used to brag about.
This was silk.
I went still.
…Yeah.
I was naked.
"Ahh!!!" I shot up, yanking the sheet up with me.
The door opened immediately. A man stepped in, moving fast. White shirt, unbuttoned halfway, sleeves rolled up, black trousers. Everything about him looked...expensive.
That's abnormal.
"What? What? Why are you screaming?" he asked, coming closer.
I stared at him. Then around the room. Then back at him.
"Okay," I said slowly, voice rough. "Couple questions."
He didn't respond.
"Who are you?" I asked. "Where am I? And why the hell am I naked in your bed?"
"You hit your head," he said. "You don't remember?"
"That depends," I muttered. "Am I supposed to remember waking up in some rich guy's house with no clothes on?"
His jaw tightened slightly.
Yeah. Not a comforting reaction.
I looked back down at the sheets, then at my hands, then at him again. "The last thing I remember is lights and music and someone yelling. After that?" I shook my head.
"Nothing. Just woke up here."
He studied me quietly for a second.
I didn't like that either.
"You were attacked," he said finally. "Outside the club. You agreed to work for me before that happened."
"Work for you?" I blinked at him. "Doing what?"
"Security."
I stared at him.
Then I let out a short, dry laugh that made my head throb harder. "That's funny."
"I'm not joking."
"No, I figured," I said, rubbing my face. "I'm just trying to understand how we got from me dancing for drunk strangers to me apparently signing up to protect…" I gestured vaguely at him. "…you."
"You wanted out," he said. "I offered you a way out."
I shifted again, pulling the sheet tighter around myself. "And I said yes to this?"
"You set the terms," he replied. "Protection only, nothing else."
Something about that made my chest tighten for a second, but I ignored it.
"Yeah," I muttered. "Don't remember that."
Silence again.
I glanced at him, then away. "So let me get this straight. I got my head smashed, woke up naked in your house, and now you're telling me I agreed to move in and play bodyguard?"
"Yes."
"…Right." I exhaled slowly. "And I'm just supposed to take your word for that?"
I pushed myself instantly.
The pain surged through my body, but I ignored it.
Before he could react, I grabbed his shirt and shoved him back.
Pain spiked through my skull like someone was still smashing it. My arms shook. I knew this wouldn't last. I could barely hold myself up last night backstage, and now I was trying to pin a man twice my size.
He hit the mattress.
I was on him immediately, one hand pressed to his chest, the other braced beside his head, sheet barely hanging onto my waist.
"Don't move," I snapped, breathing unevenly. "I'm trying real hard not to assume the worst right now."
He didn't struggle.
"What, you trying to finish what you started last night?" I said, eyes narrowing.
His brows pulled together slightly. "What are you talking about?"
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Oh, I don't know maybe the part where I wake up butt-ass naked in some stranger's bed after a night at the club?"
My grip tightened in his shirt.
"You're telling me I agreed to work for you," I continued, voice rough, "but I can't remember shit, I can't even keep you down for more than two seconds…."
He moved fast.
Next thing I knew, I was the one on my back.
He flipped us clean, pinning my wrists to the mattress.
My breath hitched.
I stared up at him, my chest heaving.
Then, his gaze dropped. For a second, just a second his eyes lingered on my mouth.
Then he stilled.
Like he caught himself.
His jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat, shifting back slightly before letting go of my wrists.
"…Yeah, see, that's exactly my point," I muttered. "You think I'd sign up for this? I can't even win one fight."
"I didn't touch you last night," he said.
I held his gaze for a second, trying to read him and decide if that was true.
"…You better not have," I muttered.
I paused. Then, quieter "Because right now, you're looking real suspicious."
"If I wanted to lie to you, I wouldn't be doing it like this."
I looked at him again.
"Okay," I said after a second. "Then explain something to me."
He waited.
"Why me?" I asked. "There are actual trained people out there. Guys who know what they're doing. Why pick someone who can't even remember saying yes?"
"You read people," he said. "You don't scare easily, and you don't have ties. No one will be asking questions."
I let out a quiet breath. "That's… not as comforting as you think it is."
"I'm not trying to comfort you."
Yeah. I could tell.
I looked down again, then back up. "And the whole 'naked in your bed' situation?"
"You were injured," he said. "I had my staff clean you up and bring you in here so that I can keep an eye on you."
"…Right." I paused. "Still feels like you skipped a few steps explaining that."
His mouth twitched, just slightly.
At least that was something.
I leaned back a little, head still pounding. "Okay. Fine. Let's say I believe you. Or at least don't have a better option right now."
"That's reasonable."
"Yeah," I muttered. "Would've been nice if past me left a note or something."
Silence again.
Then I added, "Next time I make a life-changing decision, I'm apparently doing it with a concussion."
He didn't respond to that.
Figures.
I shifted again, wincing slightly as my head throbbed. "So what now?"
"You rest," he said. "Then we move forward."
"Move forward," I repeated. "Into the part where people who attacked me are still out there?"
"They won't get another chance."
The way he said it was like he was certain and I didn't know if that was reassuring or worse.
I looked at him for a long second, then sighed. "Yeah. Okay. That's not terrifying at all."
I sank back against the pillows. My head still throbbing. I was so fucking tired of trading one hell for the next.
"Just so we're clear," I said after a moment, voice quieter now, "if this turns into something weird, I'm out."
"You said the same thing before," he replied.
"…Good," I muttered. "At least I'm consistent."
For a second, nothing happened. Then, the front door downstairs slammed hard enough that it echoed.
A woman's voice followed, "Damien?"
I froze.
My eyes flicked to him.
"…Who's that? Please tell me that's not your wife." I muttered.
The footsteps became louder and closer.
"Baby, I'm home!"
I turned my head slowly back toward him.
Then down at myself. Naked. In his bed.
Oh shit.