Falling For My Grumpy Bodyguard

Chapter 8

ARIELLE

I should have listened to whoever came up with that saying about letting sleeping dogs lie. Because ever since I got my phone back, I had been avoiding the urge to read what people were saying about me, all for the sake of my peace of mind. But this morning, sitting alone at breakfast with nothing but depressing thoughts had me picking up my phone.

If only I had focused on appreciating the flaky perfection of my croissant, I wouldn’t have ended up doom-scrolling through the group chat dedicated entirely to mocking me now.

“Would you like apples or bananas, miss?” Robin hovered beside me, always ready like some kind of food genie.

“Forget it, just bring dessert. I’m losing my appetite.” My eyes never left the screen, locked on each new message that popped up like tiny grenades.

Apparently, the party disaster hadn’t ended when I walked out. No, it was still alive and trending in the group chat. Only now, the spotlight had shifted from dragging me through the mud to worshiping Charlotte as “queen material” just because she had Logan dangling at her side. And of course, since Logan was their precious king of the social circle, whoever held his hand automatically got the crown. Convenient, wasn’t it? The crown I used to wear was now passed on like last season’s bag.

The girls had even made stickers out of my crying face from some blurry screenshot. As if turning me into a meme wasn’t humiliating enough, now I was basically their favorite reaction image for every joke.

What really got me, though, wasn’t Charlotte or Logan or even the fact that my mascara had clearly betrayed me the night I cried drunk. No, the real betrayal came from Esmeralda, the girl who was supposed to be my friend. She hadn’t called once, not to check where I was, not to check if I was breathing, not to ask if I was okay, nothing. The worst part was how she was there in the group chat, laughing along like the lead entertainer at my funeral. She even had the nerve to drop a “LMAO” sticker on one of the memes.

I stared at her name in my contact list like it might suddenly light up with an apology all on its own. Because I needed a reason, any reason, why she would do me like that. My chest burned with anger, and before I could talk myself out of it, I hit call.

Just as it started ringing, Robin came up behind me carrying a plate of something sweet, probably the dessert I had requested for. She cleared her throat gently after dropping the plate. “Miss Arielle—”

I waved her off with a glare, phone pressed to my ear. “Robin, can you not see I’m about to make a call?”

Her lips pressed into a line. “Apologies.”

The call connected right then, saving me from further irritation.

“Heyyy girlfriend!” Esmeralda’s voice was so fake and high-pitched I nearly dropped my fork.

I didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Cut the act and stop pretending everything’s fine, Esme. You didn’t even care to ask if I was okay after I disappeared, and now you’re laughing with the same people dragging me through the mud. Tell me, whose side are you really on?”

Her cheer died down instantly. “Relax, Elle,” she snapped, her tone flat now, tired of the performance. “You know I’m on your side. I just thought you needed space after… you know.”

I narrowed my eyes. “After what?”

“After your discovery about Logan cheating,” she said like it was common knowledge. “I mean, I laughed because it was funny, okay? Not because it was you.”

My jaw clenched. “No, b***h. If I wanted space, I would’ve asked for it. My dad had a f*****g accident.”

The other end fell silent and her voice came softer, but not nearly enough. “Ohh, Arielle. I… I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. How would you, when you never asked?”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah, right. Like sorry fixes anything.” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

“Hey, I’m trying here, okay?” Esmeralda snapped, her patience cracking. “Did you call me just to fight?”

“Yes. And to remind you you’re a shitty friend.”

“Wow.” Her voice dripped with mock offense but I ignored it.

“Anyway, it's fine. I forgive you. Let’s go shopping today, my dad gave me his black card.”

“Haha, you’d pass for a clown, Arielle.” Esmeralda chuckled, but she was the one sounding like a clown. “Are you serious or joking?”

“You tell me, do I sound like I’m joking?”

She paused, then scoffed. “No, Arielle. I just don’t think you’d want to hang out with a shitty friend. Ask Sophia. She’s always desperate enough.” She snapped and hung up. Just like that.

I slammed my phone down so hard Robin flinched. She was still hovering nearby, like a ghost I couldn’t exorcise.

“Miss, I just wanted to—”

“Can you not read the atmosphere, Robin?” I yelled. “Leave me the f**k alone. Take the morning off or something. Just stay away before I say something we'll both hate.”

Her face fell, but she obeyed, retreating quietly—which was probably for the best. Because even though she was older than my father, I still respected her too much to let my anger cross into insult.

I nearly screamed into my croissant, but what was the point? Esmeralda was useless, Robin was overbearing, and my breakfast was getting cold. I stabbed at my eggs like they had personally joined the group chat against me.

Shopping was supposed to be my one bright spot today. My father, in his guilt-driven generosity, had slipped me his black card before leaving for work. A peace offering, he called it, for dropping Damien Graves into my life like a bomb. Fine. I would take the card and spend it shamelessly. But shopping alone wasn't something I enjoyed doing. I needed a friend beside me to gossip, roll eyes, and hold bags. Otherwise, what was the point?

After mentioning her name, Sophia came to mind reluctantly. If Esmeralda was fake, Sophia was a leech. She hadn’t even shown up to the lunch party because she “couldn’t get a ticket.” As if her supposedly rich father couldn’t pull a few strings. Still, I knew words traveled fast in our circles. Even if she hadn’t attended, she had probably heard the whole story by now.

I dialed her, and she picked up immediately, which told me everything about her priorities.

“Arielle, you owe me an explanation,” she started, breathless, “but go on, what’s up?”

“Want to go shopping with me?”

She gasped. “All bills on you?”

I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly touched my hairline. “Sure.”

Her squeal pierced my ear. “Count me in!”

I hung up before she could start planning her outfit. After dropping my phone, I resumed back to my now cold breakfast. I was halfway through my food when someone cleared their throat.

The sound wasn’t Robin’s gentle cough. No, this was firmer, deeper. I looked up, and there he was. Damien Graves, standing in the doorway with minimal luggage and that blank expression that made me want to throw my fork at his perfect face.

Of course, the universe thought it would be hilarious to have me choke on scrambled eggs at that exact moment. I coughed, eyes watering, meeting his infuriatingly gray gaze. He moved quickly, reaching for the milk on the table, but I had already grabbed it. Our hands brushed, and electricity shot through me so strong I almost forgot how to swallow.

I gulped the water down, put the glass back, and waved at him with all the grace of a queen shooing a servant. “Space.”

He stepped back without protest.

I dabbed at my lips with a napkin, glaring. “Since when have you been standing there?”

“Since when the chef tried to talk to you the first time.”

I blinked. “Who, Robin?”

He gave a small nod.

My fork clattered onto the plate. “Then why are you still standing there? Ask her to show you where you’ll stay.”

“I can’t. You already sent her away for the morning.”

“Fine.” I groaned and stood, every movement loud with annoyance. “Follow me.”

As we walked through the hallway, the silence annoyed me almost as much as the feeling of his eyes boring into the back of my head.

“Stop staring at my butt.” I snapped it like a whip, turning my head just enough to catch his reaction. My bum shorts left little to the imagination, and he knew it.

He didn’t even flinch. “There’s nothing to stare at.”

I froze mid-step. My blood boiled, my pride screamed, and my hand itched to throw something at him. Slowly, I turned. “What did you just say?”

He met my eyes, calm as a monk. “I mean… if I was staring, it wouldn’t be at your butt. You’ve got other features that demand more attention.”