Saved || Bodyguard Connor x Reader

Chapter 16: Lines Crossed

"Then she jumped on the chandelier and stayed there for a while, swinging—staring at me with her big, sparkly eyes. Gosh, having a cat is like having a baby sometimes," Val groans.

You chuckle. "Miss Lucille misbehaving as always, huh?"

The soft clatter of silverware and the murmur of distant conversations fill the air as you sit across from Valerie at an outdoor restaurant. The sun filters through the scattered leaves, casting shifting patterns onto the wooden table between you.  It's the kind of calm you've started to appreciate more—going out without feeling like eyes are always on you, without that creeping paranoia that used to settle in your chest.

You know why. Connor.

Even now, he stands a few feet away. His gaze moves methodically, scanning every passing stranger, every approaching waiter. But even with his hyper-awareness locked on his surroundings, you know he's also watching you. And it makes you feel at ease.

You wish he'd just sit down, but the words never make it past your lips.

Valerie props her chin on her hand, a smirk creeping onto her lips. "So," she says casually, "what do you think of Arlo?"

You blink, fork pausing halfway to your mouth. "Uh... he's fine?"

"Just fine?" Her smirk widens.

You narrow your eyes at her. "Why?"

And of course, her comment wasn't so random after all. A familiar voice interrupts. "Well, this is a surprise."

You look up, and there he is—Arlo, with that same easygoing demeanour. "Fancy seeing you here."

The hell?

You force a polite smile. "Hey."

"Oh, Arlo, stop playing," Valerie pipes up, her grin teasing. "I invited him to join us."

You shoot her a sharp look, but before you can say anything, Arlo pulls out a chair and sits down.

Uninvited. Too close.

"Didn't think I'd run into you so soon," Arlo says, flashing a smile. "Fate, maybe?"

Connor shifts subtly, moving half a step closer. You don't have to look to know his LED is ticking from blue to yellow.

"Or maybe you just have a habit of showing up unexpectedly," you joke, trying to keep the mood light.

Arlo chuckles, like you just told a great joke. "Maybe." His gaze flickers to you, more intent this time. "Didn't get a text back from you."

He must be talking about the message he sent last night. You saw it, debated responding, and then decided against it. It wasn't even anything serious, just a casual 'Hey, had fun talking to you. Hope we can hang out soon.' But something about it felt off. Like he was assuming too much.

So you left it unanswered.

You shift slightly. "Ah, I've been busy," you lie.

Arlo hums, unconvinced. "I see."

Then, before you can react, he leans in slightly, resting his arm over the back of your chair.

His fingers brush your shoulder—a casual touch, but unwelcome.

Your muscles tense instinctively.

And Connor moves before you even fully register the discomfort.

In one fluid motion, he steps forward, his hand reaching out. His fingers curl firmly around Arlo's wrist, lifting it away from your shoulder.

Connor doesn't speak immediately, but his grip is final, immovable. His LED spins yellow, his gaze locked onto Arlo's with a level of intensity that makes your breath catch.

"I would advise you," Connor says, voice steady but edged with something unmistakable beneath his words. "To remove your hand."

Arlo's smile falters, just for a second, before he pulls back with a forced chuckle. "Relax. Didn't mean to overstep. No need for the bodyguard routine."

Connor doesn't move, doesn't blink. The silence stretches long enough to make Arlo shift uncomfortably.

Valerie watches with wide eyes, but doesn't interfere.

You awkwardly shift away and nervously laugh, hoping he'll get the damn hint.

Finally, Arlo lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he stands. "Guess I got my answer."

He shoves his hands into his pockets. "No hard feelings, yeah?" His gaze flickers to you briefly, but something in his tone suggests he already knows the answer.

Without waiting for a response, he turns and disappears into the crowd.

The tension lingers even after his footsteps fade. You look at Connor, who is still watching where Arlo disappeared, his posture rigid.

You exhale, turning toward him. "That was..."

"Necessary," Connor finishes, voice steady, but his posture is still taut.

Then, unexpectedly, he sits down. Your breath catches slightly at the movement. Connor never takes a seat when you're out in public. Ever. He's always standing, always watching, always ensuring you're safe. But now, he's here beside you.

You should be annoyed—his protectiveness is overbearing sometimes—but instead, all you feel is the lingering heat of something unspoken, curling in the space between you.

Valerie exhales dramatically. "Well, that was... something. Sorry bestie, he's always overly friendly like that."

You shake your head, feeling an odd mixture of relief and something else you can't quite name.

When you glance at Connor again, his LED is still yellow.

And for some reason, that makes your heart race just a little faster.