Ten

"I think this stuff is grossly exaggerated. What do you think, Shane?"

The big, foreboding man, who was the gift she'd never wanted, grunted from his position across the room.

Legend had given up trying to get him to sit down and stop hovering like a prison guard.

"I mean, seriously, how is this even important?"

After her paparazzi incident, she'd heard that Logan had issued a statement about how she was back for him, making her sound like a nutcase that couldn't do without him and causing the paparazzi to scare her within an inch of her life.

Also, he was set to star in a new movie, so he was in the limelight now and this thing was bigger than it ever was two years ago. Raph thought he was using this as a publicity stunt. Legend felt sick.

Shane grunted again.

I bet his girlfriend's like him; they'll grunt happily forever.

The management of the building had issued a warning to reporters. If any were found anywhere near the building, they'd be sued for everything they owned, including their worst pairs of shoes.

Apparently, that didn't satisfy Raph. After she'd been discharged, he'd stayed in the house with her for a whole week, not letting her do anything, checking on her every one second and bursting into her room at night at random intervals. Essentially, he suffocated her for one full week.

Then, he'd hired a bodyguard to do the suffocating while he went to work every single day because, folks, Raphael Perdome was avoiding her.

He left for work extra early and when he came back, he locked himself in his room like Count Dracula. It was getting really annoying.

She looked over to where Shane was glowering.

"Are you sure you don't wanna sit?"

He grunted. Of course, he did.

Legend turned back to the TV where the entertainment channel was giving all the sordid details on The Legend of Logan—How lame was that—she watched the pictures change from the Barbie TV presenter to various photos of her gotten from her Facebook and Instagram account.

She made a list there and then:

1. Delete both accounts and never, ever join social media because people were evil monsters who took pictures of you wearing a dragon suit from your page, sans permission and splashed it all over the evening news.

"—Logan is very concerned for his brother's protection and is threatening to get a restraining order against Ms. Freeman. He and his fiancée, Marsha Turner have tweeted about this on their Twitter handles calling Ms. Freeman's obsession ‘A pitiable and scary—"

OK, new list; Throw her shoes at the TV then delete social media.

She turned it off instead and sighed while running her hand through her hair. She didn't give a swan's butt about Logan's threat to sue but she was rather worried about her job and how her employers were going to take this latest fiasco.

That was what she got for hanging around with a family as famous as the Kardashians.

"What do you do for fun, Shane?" She was desperate for any reaction from Goliath.

He seemed to think about this, his hand sifting through his brown locks. Shane would be really panty-melting if he managed to stretch his lips in opposite directions and fucking smile.

Not as panty—melting as Raph.

She doused that thought with a revisit to when she'd seen a strange man's bare ass in the bathroom—The weirdo had been in the wrong toilet.

"I sleep." He answered the question.

Legend stared at him. Seriously? His blue eyes said he wasn't joking.

The man was still dressed in a suit, for crying out loud. If he were any stiffer, he'd be a stick. The boring stick.

"Would you like to take that off?" She gestured towards the grey jacket. He averted his eyes and was he blushing?

Ohhhhhhh, she must have sounded like some seductress or something. She replayed and concluded that yes, she did sound like a rich, hot, older woman in a Telemundo drama trying to get the goods from her bodyguard.

"Chill, I'm not trying to seduce you. If I wanted sex, I would've been marching around in Victoria's Secret."

That made his cheeks redden even more.

He was cute.

She walked to the window and peered out, watching the many cars drive by, the passersby, the traffic that signified the rush hour. She couldn't comprehend how so many people could care about something as silly as Logan and his baseless accusations.

How could they even believe that shit? It was worse than a bad school play and Logan was just playing it to his advantage, making her look bad.

Everyone must be judging her. Even Her bodyguard probably thought she was a whore who only dealt in Cole Sprouse look-alikes.

And the irky part of everything—the whole ordeal was irky, this part was just irkier than most—was that he'd dragged Raph into this. Made him look weak, stupid, undesirable. Legend wanted to stuff Raph into a giant shredder thingy that would make him mincemeat.

She considered whether their parents knew about this—only a person who lived on the moon wouldn't—and what they would say. Wondered if they'd condemn her like the rest of North America or if they'd be like Raph, willing to listen.

Raph, whose life she had destroyed the moment her Vans had touched his sheepskin carpet.

Back in school, a teacher had told her she had a knack at upsetting things after she had singlehandedly provoked a student with her witless words, misplaced the whole class's project works and almost started a school riot. This time she'd outdone herself. Not only had she upset Raph's life, she'd made it cry.

Now, the man in question couldn't bear to be in the same room with her, acting like she had COVID-19 or a bad case of BO. She didn't blame him one bit. If she were him, she'd be outta there with a loud 'Adios, bitch.'

But Raphael, bless his too-kind heart, couldn't utter a bad word to anybody. He maybe wanted her gone but didn't know what to tell her or maybe he'd imagined her homeless, using a strip of carton as protection against the elements, with Merlin's beard and hairy ears and he just couldn't bring himself to kick her out.

Not for the first time, Legend considered packing and leaving.

Why stay where you aren't wanted?

*

Raph stepped into the foyer, loosening the noose—sorry, tie—around his neck. Suzie had threatened that if he didn't leave the office before 7, she would call security to physically peel him off his chair.

"Yeah, right. They work for me. They wouldn't try such." He'd scoffed at her. That caused her to narrow her eyes and say in a firm voice, "don't be too sure, young man. I bake them cookies."

Raph knew firsthand the power of Suzie's cookies, so as soon as it was five, he got in his car and sped home to avoid giving the media something else to talk about.

Shane materialized from nowhere, almost scaring Raph out of his skin.

"Your girlfriend's in her room." He grunted.

"She's not my girlfriend." He replied immediately.

God, how he wished. But it wasn't, so no need crying over spilled frozen yogurt.

Shane scratched his head, looking contrite.

"I'm sorry."

Raph waved it off. "It's fine. You can go now, thanks."

After Shane closed the door behind him, Raph went in for a change of clothes before going to the kitchen to hunt for food. He wondered what Legend had eaten for dinner.

He should go check. Even as his brain was listing all the reasons why seeing her was a bad idea, number one being his dick was gonna be really happy to see her and that would embarrass the shit out of him, his feet were already making their way to the guest room. It was like they'd revolted against his thinking faculty and were running the show now.

He didn't know if that was good and bad.

But he did know Legend was really mad at him.

When he stepped into her room, she spared him a glance like he was something under her shoe that she absolutely could not bear to look at again and returned to her laptop.

"Hey."

She didn't reply.

"Have you had supper?"

"Yes."

That word conveyed two meanings:

Of course, I haven't eaten. What would I feed on, the kitchen cabinets?

And talking to you is a lot worse than getting my period, getting my tonsils out, and getting shot, so vaminos!

"I'm just about to prepare something. Want some?"

She finally shut her laptop and looked at him. Her eyes were blank, but he could swear he'd seen a hint of pain in there.

"You know, " she said as if in deep thought, pulling a pillow under her chin. "If I weren't living with you, I'd have pissed on the walls of your kitchen by now."

Ooookay?

"And why would we do that?"

"We would do that because you are a giant asshole. I told you I didn't want a bodyguard, you didn't listen. You've been going to the office every fucking day, even on weekends because clearly you're avoiding me like how Eminem avoids not shouting at everybody in the name of music."

Shit. Had he really thought she wouldn't notice what he was doing?

"I mean, if you still don't want me around, just say so and I'll leave. You don't have to be fucking nice and avoid and treat me like I don't matter."

By the time she was through with her tirade, the blank look was replaced by the raw pain he'd seen earlier.

Raph was no better than Logan.

He sat next to her and tried not to wince as she shifted away from him.

"I'm sorry, Legend. It's just—"

It's just that I love you so fucking much and I'm scared you'll find out and leave me.

"I'm scared that you'll blame me for all of this. I'd rather be mauled by a bear than make you cry, Sweetie." At least that was true.

Legend's face softened a bit.

"It's not your fault I fell for your fucktard brother."

She murmured, smirking at him.

"If he didn't look so much like Cole Sprouse, I don't really think everyone would be so obsessed with the color of his shit."

"I thought I was the only one who saw the resemblance! But you look way better."

She snuck her feet into his lap and took those sexy glasses off.

"Yeah?" Keep your eyes on her forehead, keep your eyes on her earlobe...

She got legs for days, his blood sang.

And an ass to die for, his heart chimed in.

His dick wouldn't be left out. And she's gonna have the sweetest p—

"Yup," Her voice drew him out of the thoughts that would make Sr. Agnes from his school days fall in a deep faint. "You look like Alexander Ludwig."

"Who's that? One of the strippers on your Pinterest?"

She gasped, mortified. "No, you idiot. He's the jerk in the first Hunger Games movie."

"Never saw it. The idea of people fighting to the death in a stupid competition doesn't appeal to me." He shrugged, leaning in to ruffle her hair.

He liked touching her hair.

"Ludwig's not the jerk; you are."

She beaned him a pillow.

"I'm no jerk, I just have better taste in movies."

She watched him with disbelieving eyes while he rubbed circular motions into her ankle.

"Oh, is that so? What's your favorite movie?"

"That would be The War on A. I. It was on Netflix Last month."

Legend was horrified.

"That's a documentary!"

"Last time I checked, sweet stuff, a documentary is a type of movie."

She shook her head at him.

"You're The most boring fun person I know."

He threw her a wink, her insult-compliment warming his body.

"That's a compliment. Thanks."

Her stomach growled as if responding to him and Legend blushed a deep red that looked beautiful with her pink hair.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

"Come on, lemme feed you."

"I'd like that, Raphy."

She smiled up at him, pearly whites and all and for like a heartbeat, the world was fucking awesome.