Page 2 of Under His Protection
Jasmine leans against the wall and crosses her muscular arms over her chest. “So, what have you done? Have you at least gotten to first base?”
“I’m not exactly sure what that means,” I admit. “That’s mostly just kissing, right?”
Jasmine rolls her eyes. “Oh, my God.”
“Jasmine!” Layla’s trying hard not to laugh. “Don’t tease her.”
I guess it’s because of her background, but Jasmine is a lot more forthcoming when it comes to talking about sex. At sixteen, she ended up on the streets, alone and homeless, selling her body just to make enough money to eat. She’d been working as a prostitute for a few years when Liam McIntyre spotted her standing on a street corner looking for her next client. He couldn’t leave her like that, so he picked her up for the night, took her back to his apartment, and got her medical care (from Layla’s boyfriend, Jason, a former paramedic). They talked all night long. Literally, that’s it—they justtalked. Liam would never take advantage of someone down on her luck.
Today, he’s her boyfriend, and they work together at McIntyre Security as martial arts instructors. She’s also a sophomore majoring in criminal justice at the same university I’m about to attend.
Layla, on the other hand, grew up in the lap of luxury. She’s now an heiress worth something like half a billion dollars. Her life hasn’t been all roses and sunshine, though. She has medical conditions that affect her daily—namely type 1 diabetes and paranoid schizophrenia. Her full-time bodyguard also happensto be her boyfriend—I mean, herfiancéas they recently got engaged. Jason works for McIntyre Security, too.
It’s a small world.
“We’ve definitely gotten tofirstbase,” I admit. “I think we’ve made it tosecondbase—if it’s what I think it is. I mean, we’ve taken off our shirts. We’ve touched andmade out. But that’s as far as we’ve gone. Philip is hesitant to go any further.”
Jasmine gives Layla a suffering glance.
“It’s a logistical problem, really,” I say, suddenly feeling the need to explain. “We don’t have anywhere todo it. We couldn’t do it here, for obvious reasons.” I mouth,my parents. “We can’t do it at his apartment because it’s just down the hall from my dad and Erin’s place. I don’t mind, but it freaks Philip out that Mack might be wondering what we’re doing. And we don’t have anywhere else to go. I suggested we go to a hotel, but Philip nixed that idea. He said it was too impersonal. He wants it to be somewherespecial.”
Jasmine shakes her head. “He’s such a boy scout.”
“That’s okay,” Layla says. “Haley is a girl scout. They’re perfect for each other.”
“Is it true what they say about size?” Jasmine asks. “I mean, Phil’s abigguy. He’s what, six-six?”
I nod.
Jasmine’s eyes take on a distinctly mischievous sparkle. “Does that size thing translate toeverypart of him?”
“Jasmine!” Laughing, Layla tosses a throw pillow at Jasmine, who catches it easily with her cat-like reflexes.
Before I even decide how to answer that, we hear someone clearing her throat from the open doorway. We all turn to look at my mom, who’s leaning casually against the door jamb.
“The guys just pulled up,” she says. “Finish up with the packing.”
Mom’s trying not to smile, which makes me wonder if she overheard a good part of our conversation about condoms and bases. But that’s okay. She’s pretty cool about me and Philip, and about sex in general. So is my stepdad, Dave. It’s just my dad who struggles with the idea ofhis little girlgrowing up and getting naked with a man.
Mom gestures toward the stairs. “I’ll go downstairs and let them in.”
We jump to our feet and finish cramming into boxes all the stuff I want to take to my new dorm room—clothes, pajamas, underwear and bras, shoes, my laptop, tablet, charger cords, books, water bottles, personal hygiene stuff, notebooks, and pens. When no one’s looking, I slip the condoms into one of the boxes. I doubt we’ll have a chance to use them in the dorm since I’ll have a roommate, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
As soon as Jasmine and I fill a box, Layla tapes it shut and writes HALEY DONOVAN in all capital letters with a blue permanent marker on the top and sides. In pure Layla fashion, she draws a little heart next to my name.
“How’s the packing going?” says a deep voice coming from the open doorway. Philip’s voice matches his body. Big. Masculine. And sexy as hell.
I have to look up to meet his gaze. I’m tall for a girl—five-eight—but he’s way taller. When I’m around him, I feel dainty, which is rare for me. “We’re about done.”
Philip walks into the room and observes what I’m wearing—a university T-shirt, distressed jean shorts, and white sneakers. He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet so he can draw me into his arms. “You make an adorable college freshman,” he says, and then he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
Philip looks ready to work in a pair of worn blue jeans and a dark gray, sleeveless T-shirt. On his feet are sneakers that wereprobably once white but are now a dingy gray. His brown hair is cut short, and his brown eyes are much lighter than mine.
Before I can reply, Jason Miller and Liam McIntyre walk into the room.
“All packed?” Liam asks.
Jasmine walks over to Liam and kisses him. “We’re ready to go.”
