VEGASPETE🔞+HER CRUEL BODYGUARD

Chepter 28

VEGAS POV

I’d have never thought the day would come that I was relieved to leave Bangkok and return to Paris, but the sneaking around and secrecy grated on my nerve. After our quickie in the guardhouse, Pete and I had only managed to meet for sex one more time. Two rushed fucks in two months. A dismal quote. I missed touching Pete whenever I wanted, at least in the safety of our apartment. I missed spending time with he. While we were careful not to act as a couple in public in Paris, we could still be much closer than we could ever risk in Bangkok.

When we landed, I could already feel a huge weight lifting off my shoulders.

“This feels like coming home,” Pete said on our ride back to the apartment in our car. I touched he thigh and squeezed. In a weird way, it did. Bangkok was still my home and would always be, but it also felt like a prison right now. Pete linked our fingers.

Dad had warned me to be careful before I left. He didn’t know about Pete and me, but he suspected something. Holding hands in broad daylight probably wasn’t being careful, even if an ocean stretched between us and the watchful eyes of the Outfit.

I squeezed he hand. We needed to be careful. There was no doubt about it. But returning to Paris had made me realize again that our togetherness was limited. I wanted to enjoy the time we had. Paris allowed me to do that, and forget about Marco.

We sat in our favorite breakfast spot, a small café around the corner from our apartment. We had breakfast here every Sunday and spent hours people-watching.

The owners thought we were a couple. We never corrected them and eventually we started holding hands, like we did now. We’d grown careless over time, or maybe it was just that keeping a professional distance became more difficult over the years.

“I thought we could spend a few weeks in Provence this summer,” Pete said one Sunday morning in early May.

“Won’t we have to return to Bangkok?”

As the first summer, Pete and I had returned to Bangkok last summer as well, and I assumed it would be the case this summer too.

“It’s our last summer in France,” he said softly, he eyes strangely wistful.

Our last summer here. It hit me suddenly. Pete would be graduating next February and afterward we were expected to return to Bangkok indefinitely. Fuck. I’d tried to ignore the truth, but now it glared back at me.

“It is.”

“I asked my parents if I could spend at least part of it traveling through France and they agreed. We have the first three weeks of July.”

“A last summer of freedom before you marry Marco next October.”

pete’s expression twisted with shock. Had he really thought I didn’t know? I hadn’t mentioned it because I didn’t want to think about it. The idea that I’d have to give up Pete soon felt like a burning arrow in my chest

“My parents think we shouldn’t wait much longer.”

I nodded. That Saengtham had allowed Pete to study abroad and that he was marrying an Outsider were already bitter pills to swallow for the conservatives in the Outfit. Pete would be twenty-two next September. Time to marry in our world.

Pete glanced down at our linked hands then back up at my face. I tried to keep my expression calm, even if I felt anything but. Our time was running out and for the first time, I could practically see the sand grains trickling away in the hourglass.

“It’s still more than one year,” he said.

“Is it? How long do you want to keep us going? Have you decided on a date yet?”

Maybe I should man up and stop what we had. But I didn’t want to. Instead I waited for Pete to end things. It was he commitment to Marco that would determine our end after all.

he hesitated, then looked away. “We don’t have to end things…”

Surprise washed through me, then triumph. Then I realized he didn’t mean it in the way I thought. “You want us to keep fucking even when you’re married to Marco.”

Pete grimaced, then quickly shook he head. “We can’t. I… I hate that we have to talk about this. I don’t want to think about it.”

But eventually we would have to face the truth. I wondered if he’d ever considered telling he parents about us. If he’d ever considered breaking things off with Marco while he’d lain in my arms at night, or while we’d shared a good laugh. I had spent hours awake at night imagining a future with Pete.

Pete leaned forward, he eyes pleading. “Let’s pretend I’m not marrying. Let’s just enjoy our time together. Okay?”

I took a deep breath, then nodded.

For Pete, I’d do it. I couldn’t let he go yet. Not yet.

The human brain is a powerful tool. I managed to pretend like Pete had asked me to, and so we kept enjoying our days until the summer almost like a couple.

When the first day of the summer holidays rolled around, Pete and I both briefly descended into wistfulness.

Luckily the next day, we took a plane down to Marseille for our trip to the Provence. Right when we landed, Pete and I held hands. It felt natural.

The sun was shining brightly as we headed for the rental car station at the airport.

Once we’d filled out all the paperwork and Pete had received the keys, he headed for a tiny blue Fiat Cinquecento Cabrio.

“Please tell me that isn’t our vehicle.” I couldn’t call that thing car. It would be an insult to my Camaro and every other car with a little pride.

Pete rolled he eyes as he rounded the car as if it was a cute puppy. “It’s perfect.” he beamed. Fuck. I could live with that Matchbox car if it made Pete smile like that.

“I’m driving!” Pete shouted before I could head for the driver’s side. I sank down on the passenger seat, watching with amusement how Pete inspected the gearshift of the Fiat. I was used to driving gear shift, but Pete had never done it. he hadn’t driven much at all in the last two and a half years. If we went anywhere by car in Paris, I always drove.

Seeing my expression, hes filled with determination.

And eventually he managed to get the engine running and we pulled out of the parking lot. Pete let out a delighted laugh. “This will be a magical trip.”

I chuckled and relaxed in the seat. Pete pressed the button that opened the top of the car. He hair blew around he head wildly and he laughed again.

I reached inside he purse and grabbed a scrunchie. Pete gave me a grateful smile as I put he hair in a messy ponytail while he steered the car onto a narrow coastal road.

“I love it when you do that.”

Usually I only ever held he hair back when he blew me but this felt nice too. I loved the feeling of he silky hair between my fingers. “I just don’t want to drop off the cliff  because your hair impairs your vision.”

I couldn’t see he eyes because of he huge sunglasses but I knew he was rolling he eyes.

“Don’t be grumpy. This will be the summer of our life.”

I knew I’d always remember this summer. The first summer Pete really felt like my man…

… and the last..

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