The Man I Thought I Knew

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The Man I Thought I Knew Page 6

by E. L. Todd


  “I’d drink more scotch if I could. Unfortunately, it only takes a few glasses of wine to turn me into the hot mess that you saw last weekend. Scotch would put me in the hospital for alcohol poisoning.”

  “The shoes okay?”

  “Still a little sassy, but they’ll be alright.” I smiled. “Thank you for asking.”

  “I could tell they meant a lot to you.”

  “I did a big article on Jimmy Choo, and they were given to me as a gift.”

  “Nice gift.”

  “Yes, they’re gorgeous.” I took another drink.

  He swirled his glass slightly, looking into my face like he didn’t need to speak to have a conversation with me. He was quiet, contemplative, and that made it easy to be around him. He never bored me with pointless conversation.

  “I’m sorry I drank so much. For the record, I still would have jumped your bones and done a damn good job.”

  Those lips slowly spread into a smile, the light reaching his eyes. “I have no doubt.”

  “Then you should stick around next time.”

  “Next time, huh? That happens a lot?”

  I shrugged. “I wouldn’t say a lot…”

  He chuckled. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

  I took another drink, watching the lipstick pile onto the same spot over and over, the red stain becoming bolder until it stopped increasing altogether. Now my lips were plain because the color was gone.

  “How’s the article coming along? Shaking down any more thugs?”

  A sarcastic chuckle burst from my mouth. “I’m not some badass vigilante.”

  “That’s not what I saw the night we met.”

  “Well, my boss actually just lit a fire under my ass because he wants to publish sooner rather than later.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  I nodded. “I don’t have everything I need. I could write it now and throw the accusations on the table, but I really want my words to be a sucker punch, to be one of the top hits on Google that morning.”

  He drank from his glass as he stared at me. “You want your work to be perfect.”

  “It’s all I’m going to have after I’m gone, so definitely.”

  He took another drink. “I read that you went to Harvard.”

  I shrugged. “Guilty.”

  “Impressive.”

  I shrugged again, unsure what to say to the compliment. I never would have volunteered that information, and that was why I hated the internet and social media. My name was all over the web, and sometimes my educational background was attached to my projects.

  He smiled slightly. “Wow…humility. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  He chuckled. “You’re a very blunt person.”

  “Bluntness isn’t the same as arrogance.”

  He gave a slight nod. “You went to the paper right after graduation?”

  I didn’t understand why he was asking these questions. They had nothing to do with our arrangement, and besides, it was a boring conversation. “Yeah. I started in the mail room then became an intern.”

  Both of his eyebrows rose. “A Harvard alumnus starts in the mail room?”

  “Everyone at the paper has been to a fancy school. That doesn’t mean anything. Attitude and perseverance, that’s what matters. The people who are too snobby to accept the position go elsewhere, and it’s good riddance.” I hated stuck-up snobs who thought they were hot shit because of a piece of paper they paid one hundred thousand dollars to receive.

  “And then you went from intern to reporter?”

  “I had to work my way up like everyone else. When I finally became a full-time writer, I was doing the sections no one cared about until I proved myself. Then I started getting the good stuff.”

  He stared at me as he hung on every word, as if he was truly interested. “Do you—”

  “I don’t understand why you’re asking all these questions.”

  His expression didn’t change and his body didn’t flinch as I cut him off. Now, he just stared, for a very long time, his dangerous eyes looking deep inside me like he could see my soul. “That’s what friends do.”

  “I’ve got enough friends. I don’t need any more.”

  He was still again, this time slightly surprised by the words that came out of my mouth. Then the corner of his mouth rose in a smile. He tilted his head back and downed the rest of his scotch before setting the empty glass on the table. “The reason I came to this booth the night we met was because I thought your fire was sexy. I liked the no-nonsense attitude. I liked the confidence. You’re strong, successful, and sexy. That’s all you. But this…” He nodded to me, referring to something in my body that he didn’t specify. “This is fear. Fear is not sexy.”

  My breathing increased slightly, and a wave of heat suddenly came over me. The embarrassment drenched my skin, and I suddenly felt like I was on display, buck naked and covered in scars.

  “You’re either heartless…or heartbroken. I hope it’s the second one.” His arms remained on the table, his fingers around his empty glass. He stared at me with those brown eyes, and instead of being the strong and silent man he used to be, he showed his hand…and he was more observant than he seemed. “I’m not asking for more. I’m just asking to be treated with respect. I would have already walked away if I didn’t like you. But I do like you. I want to keep seeing you. But this—” he shook his head “—bullshit needs to stop. If you want to keep seeing me, then we need to be friends.” He opened his wallet, left a couple bills on the table, and then rose from the booth. “If you’re brave enough for that, call me. If not, then have a good one.”

  I grabbed dinner before heading back to the apartment.

  When I walked inside, Charlie was at the dining table, sitting in just his sweatpants without a shirt. He was leaned forward with his elbows on the table, his fingers twirling in his hair as he stared at the computer.

  I set my food on the table and took a seat. After pulling it out of the bag, I opened it and ate in silence, my satchel on the floor beside me.

  Charlie straightened and looked at me over the edge of his laptop. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” I pushed my food around with my fork and took a few bites.

  Charlie continued to stare at me. The energy from his gaze danced across my face. “Everything alright, Carson? What did Vince say to you?”

  My work problems seemed insignificant now. “Charlie… I think you were right.” I kept my eyes on my food, replaying the conversation with Dax in my head. He called me out on my bullshit, and I had no defense, no rebuttal. It was one thing for Charlie or my sister to say something, but Dax and I hardly knew each other, and he read me so easily.

  “About?”

  I shrugged. “Everything…”

  He knocked on the table, getting my attention with the sound. “Hey, look at me.”

  I closed the top of my box and pushed it away. I wasn’t hungry anyway. I finally lifted my chin and looked at him.

  “What happened?”

  “Dax and I got a drink. He started asking me all these questions about work, and I shut it down.”

  “Why?”

  “I just didn’t think it was part of our relationship.”

  “If you can’t talk about anything personal, then what are you supposed to talk about?”

  I shrugged. “I was pretty rude to him. He said he wanted to be my friend…and I said I had enough friends.”

  His eyes filled with disappointment. “Yeah, that was a dick thing to say.”

  I didn’t tell Charlie about his other comment, that Dax knew I was damaged, heartbroken, destroyed…or I just didn’t have a heart at all. My outgoing personality and wildness didn’t hide the truth deep inside. Dax could see it, and that suddenly made me vulnerable. “He basically told me to change—or he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

  Instead of giving me a lecture about the whole thing, Charlie just stared at me, sy
mpathy in his eyes. “Last weekend, he was asking questions about you.”

  “Like?”

  “What your deal was.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Nothing. But he is surprised how detached you are.”

  “I thought a guy like him would love that.”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. It’s hard to figure him out.”

  “Yeah…” That was one of the things I liked about him.

  “You know… I like him. He’s a cool guy.”

  “You hardly know him.”

  “Yeah, but I like what I do know. I think you should call him.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m pretty embarrassed, I guess.”

  Charlie’s eyes fell, like he felt my pain just as I did. “I can see that. But you’re strong, Carson. You’ll overcome it. And I think this is a good time to slow down…and maybe work on moving forward instead of finding the next distraction.”

  I worked long hours, interviewing people, chasing down sources, building the article and rewriting it over and over, dodging Vince as he harassed me for the completion of the project.

  But no matter how busy I was, I still thought about Dax.

  And everything he said.

  I sat in my cubicle, one of the last people at the office. The fluorescent lights had drained my energy by shining down on me all day, time was impossible to distinguish when I was surrounded by four walls.

  I pulled out my phone and stared at Dax’s message box.

  I could just cut my losses and move on, but I did like Dax. And Charlie was right. I wasn’t afraid of anything, so I shouldn’t be afraid of the mirror Dax held in front of my face. I typed out a message. Can I buy you a drink? I stared at it for a while before I sent it off. I wasn’t even sure if he would text me back.

  Why would he text me back?

  I set my phone down.

  He texted me seconds later. Scotch. Neat.

  I was rarely nervous, regardless of the circumstance. Put me on a rocket to the moon, and my pulse wouldn’t exceed eighty beats per minute. But I sat alone in the booth, my palms a little sweaty, my heart racing more than it should. I had my glass of Bordeaux in front of me, his scotch sitting there waiting for him.

  Then he slid into the booth across from me, in his usual t-shirt and jeans. He grabbed the glass, took a drink, and then regarded me with that intense stare. “Let’s try this again.” He leaned forward toward me, his fingers resting on the top of his glass, his eyes both hostile and kind at the same time.

  I knew I should apologize, but that was hard for me to do. Admitting my wrongdoing wasn’t the issue. It was just the fact that I’d done something wrong in the first place. I was a kind person who had been on a tough road for a while, and my response to everything around me was to be cold and distant because I was broken. But that wasn’t the solution. “I’m sorry…for the way I spoke to you.”

  He gave a slight nod. “I accept your apology.”

  I swirled my glass without taking a drink, just needing to do something with my hands, to divert my eyes elsewhere. “Honestly, I thought someone like you would like being with a woman who only wants sex, no talking, no connecting.”

  “Someone like me?” He rubbed his fingers across his chin, feeling the coarseness of his stubble. “That’s quite an assumption since you don’t know anything about me.” He shifted his glass then brought it to his lips, staring me down.

  “Come on.” I raised my hand and gestured to him. “You’re gorgeous. Gorgeous men don’t look to settle down.”

  “Gorgeous women want to settle down, but that’s not you at all.”

  “Fine. Am I wrong?”

  He considered the answer for a long time before he answered. “No.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So, my assumption was right.”

  “And the point I made was right.”

  “Touché.”

  “I understand you’re just looking for a fling. That’s fine with me. But I would like your friendship. If this is a friends-with-benefits relationship, we need to be friends first.”

  “Why do you want to be my friend?”

  He picked up his glass. “Because I like you.”

  “Really? Because you just told me I was rude.”

  “You were rude. But everything else about you, I do like.”

  This was the closest I’d ever let a man come to me. The others respected my boundaries, didn’t care about my rudeness. They were just happy to get laid. The others who wanted something more were cut loose right away. But not a single one of them had asked for my friendship. “Alright…we can be friends.”

  He stared at me for a while, his eyes narrowed on my face like he was examining me on a deeper level.

  “But to be clear, I am seeing other people. And this will never grow into something deeper.”

  He smiled slightly. “This guy really messed you up, didn’t he?”

  I wanted to snap back with a harsh comment, but I kept it bottled inside. “That’s not a topic I ever want to talk about.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. But just so you know, someone really fucked me up too.”

  Nine

  Carson

  Charlie was in the kitchen when I walked inside. “Hungry?”

  I set my satchel on the dining table. “When have you ever asked that and my answer was no?”

  “Well, there was that one time…” He stared into the distance as he tried to recall the instance. “Nope. You’re right.” He smiled and turned back to his cooking.

  I joined him in the kitchen and helped him prepare everything. Charlie usually cooked a few times a week, and we ate the leftovers for a couple days. I served it onto the plates then carried them to the dining table.

  Charlie left the pots and pans in the sink to be washed later—by me. That was our policy. He cooked and I cleaned. He joined me at the table. “You seem to be in a better mood.”

  “I just saw Dax.”

  “Good. You called him.” He leaned over his food and ate.

  “Yeah.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “We got a drink at the bar, and I apologized…for being a snappy bitch.”

  “Wow, you apologized?” he asked in surprise. “What a sight…”

  “I apologized to you a couple weeks ago,” I retorted.

  “No. You just missed me so much that you stopped caring how much I pissed you off.”

  “Yeah…I guess.”

  “So, you’re going to keep seeing him?”

  I shrugged. “I told him we would only be friends with benefits, and I would never change my mind. Then he said it was obvious I’d been hurt.”

  Charlie finished his bite but didn’t take another. He just regarded me for a while.

  “But he said he’s been hurt too, so…there’s that.”

  He continued to watch me. “I really like this guy, Carson.”

  “You don’t even know him.”

  “Neither do you. But let’s get to know him. Let’s give him a chance.”

  I sighed deeply. “I’m not in that place, Charlie.”

  “And neither is he. So, it’s a good starting point.”

  I took another deep breath, finding it impossible to ever trust again, to ever really feel anything significant for a man again. I just wanted them for necessities, like lust, affection, good sex. But they served no other purpose.

  “Maybe nothing serious will ever happen with Dax. But you could use it as a jumping-off point, to get your feet in the water, to start over…”

  I did like Dax. And I really liked the fact that he’d been broken too. Maybe we could be friends. Maybe we could help each other. “We’ll see what happens…”

  “What happened with your boss?” Kat asked, standing beside me while holding her drink.

  “He hounded me hard.” I rolled my eyes. “He wants me to turn in this article, but it’s not done yet—”

 
“You need to just do it,” Charlie said. “Vince doesn’t care if it’s perfect right now. He cares about being the first news outlet that exposes it. You can always write a follow-up later.” He stood beside Matt, his dirty-blond hair combed back.

  Kat sipped her drink as she stared at him.

  “Not to be a dick, but does anyone read the paper anyway?” Matt asked. “Isn’t some other company going to paraphrase your article and put it up on Facebook? So, no one will even know that you were the first to expose all of this?”

  That made me take a long drink of my cosmo.

  Charlie rolled his eyes. “We have lots of subscribers, and people in the industry respect our work. So, yes, people will know that we were the first.”

  “Ooh…there’s your man.” Denise nudged me in the side before she nodded to the entryway.

  Dax walked inside in jeans that were low on his hips and a t-shirt that stretched across his big pecs. He always stood straight, always carried himself like a powerful man, and his pissed-off expression made him so sexy.

  Every woman in the bar stared at him.

  “I always forget how hot he is…” My eyes followed him, knowing he hadn’t spotted us yet.

  “Me too,” Matt said with a deep sigh.

  “When are you going to set me up?” Kat asked. “If his friends look anything like him… Yum.”

  Dax turned his head and noticed me with my crew, and there was a slight look of acknowledgment that entered his eyes, and then he quickly glanced down, looking me over with his hot gaze, like he liked the way my ass looked in my dress. He headed my way, his eyes only on me.

  “Oh damn…” I’d forgotten how gorgeous he was. When he called me out on my shit, it made him even sexier. I didn’t like being told what to do, but when he put me in my place, it was a turn-on. That was probably why I overcame my humiliation and texted.

  His arm circled my waist, his large hand feeling my curves and the top of my ass, and he moved farther in until his face was above mine, his head tilted down slightly so he could look at my lips.

  I forgot everyone in the room. I forgot about myself entirely. My lips parted in anticipation of the kiss he was about to give me, and my palms immediately went to his chest to feel his hardness. He was so perfect. He was beautiful on the outside and all man on the inside.

 

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