Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

Like maybe my heart.

But Cash didn’t need me in mourning the whole drive, so I made my voice upbeat as I looked up from messing with Cash’s phone. “I got an eye appointment for shortly after we’re due back in town. Guess there are some perks to being Danny Love still.”

“Yup.” Mouth a thin line, Cash’s attention remained on the road. “You needing me to go with you?”

Heck. I’d pretty much simply assumed he would. And now I had to ask, which I hated. I licked my dry lips. “Would you? And then the police station thing after that. I know I should be able to handle this stuff on my own. But I don’t want to go alone. I could call Duncan—”

“You don’t need to call Duncan.” He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He’d talked to Duncan on speakerphone after dinner the night before, and Duncan had sounded jet-lagged from his Toronto trip. I was glad he was safely back in LA, but I was not in a hurry to see him and was happy Cash was volunteering.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m happy to play chauffeur for you. And you’re wanting me to meet with the police with you?”

“Yeah. I ramble. And get nervous and forget the important parts.” I was already rather on edge, and actually being in a police station was likely to get me even more so. I had only fuzzy memories of my last visit to one, but none of them were positive. “Having someone else there would be good.”

“I’ll nudge you if you ramble too much, but you’ll do fine.” Cash gave me a fast pat on the thigh before returning his hands to the steering wheel. I was going to miss his reassuring touches so much. A big part of why I was reluctant to see Duncan was knowing that would undoubtedly mark the end of Cash’s affections. I understood why he undoubtedly wouldn’t want to risk the friendship, but I didn’t have to like it.

Simply thinking about Duncan and what our return to LA meant made my brain pound. “Man. I really do need a new prescription. My head is killing me.”

“Try to sleep.” Cash pitched his voice all soothing, which somehow made my head hurt more, not less, because I worried his sweetness was about to slip away like the mountains in the rearview. But my body had other ideas, letting out a big yawn. Cash gave a fond chuckle. “Let me handle the driving.”

It was only too easy to let Cash handle things. Cash took care of the driving, a stop for gas and fast food, and navigating clogged LA traffic to reach my eye doctor in a swank Beverly Hills shopping center in time for my appointment. I wore one of his hats into the building along with sunglasses, but the second I took the sunglasses off, the receptionist crowed loudly.

“Mr. Love, such a pleasure to see you again.” She beamed at me. I seemed to only ever be Mr. Love when I was in trouble, so I hated that name almost as much as I’d hated Danny before Cash started using it and making me think of sex with every syllable. But no thinking about sex in the optometrist office. I needed to focus on the receptionist, who continued to nod at me while typing on a computer. “It’s been a while since your last appointment.”

“I know.” I groaned apologetically as she called up my file and verified my current information.

“Your…security person can wait out here.” Standing, she gestured at Cash. Her pause was notable, and I opened my mouth to correct her, then shut it fast. Cash might have claimed me as his boyfriend back at the cabin with strangers, but that was a far cry from being out in LA, where potential gossip headlines lurked around every corner. The receptionist must have misread my hesitation because she patted my arm. “We’ll take good care of you, promise.”

“Thanks.” I started to follow her down a short hallway, but then she stopped and turned back to me.

“Wait. Before we dilate your eyes as part of the exam, can I get you to sign something for me? My sister is a huge fan of yours.”

“Sure.” Yup. We really were back in LA, and I was tired, so very tired, even before I had to deal with eye charts and an exam that seemed to drag on and on. Finally, the optometrist assistant turned me back over to the receptionist at the front. Cash was sitting where I’d left him, near the displays of glasses frames, sprawled in a narrow chair with his phone out.

“Now I’ll get your contacts ready to go,” the receptionist chirped at me. “You’re lucky we have that prescription in stock. And you can choose your frames for some backup glasses.”