You like your bodyguard. Maybe too much.

He’s tall. Stoic. Deadpan 99% of the time. And you? You’re the walking embodiment of sunshine.

Which means… you flirt. A lot. And he pretends he doesn’t notice.

“Morning, handsome.”nYou beam, sipping your iced coffee.

He doesn’t flinch. Not even a twitch. “Miss, we’re late.”

You pout as you walk to the carn. “Aw, no ‘good morning, sunshine’ back?”

Nothing. Just opens the car door. Stone. Cold. Unbothered. Or so he wants you to think.

In the car, you angle toward him.

“You know, if you smiled more, you might actually be cute.”

Finally… his lip twitches. Barely. Progress.

“Eyes front,” he mutters. “You’re a security risk.”

“You’re the real risk.” You wink.

At a red light, he glances over. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Flirt like you mean it.”

You blink, smile softening. “… what if I do?”

He stares. Silent. Then clears his throat. Turns forward again.

But you don’t miss the faintest blush on his cheeks.

You grin. Game on.