I stare at Braxton. His stubble is thicker than usual and he’s wearing the same clothes he had on at the bar the other night. He’s literally been here this whole time, hasn’t he?
Vaguely, I remember begging him not to leave me the first night I was sick. And he didn’t. Brax stuck. I’m stunned—and extremely confused—because what I’m feeling is not a feeling I should have for Braxton.
“Kylie?” Derek says.
“Sorry, I’m still really tired. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, bye babe,” Derek says.
Braxton’s eyes are on the floor as I hang up. I can tell he knows who I was talking to. When he looks up at me, I see something I’ve never seen on his face before. Pain.
I’ve seen him in physical pain. I was with him after his motorcycle accident. His leg was mangled. He kept it in pretty well, but I saw it in his eyes while I sat with him in his hospital room.
But this pain is different. It’s deeper. More personal.
No, he can’t be in pain over me. It has nothing to do with Derek, or sleeping next to me in my bed these last four days. He’s only doing what a best friend does. That’s why we’re so great together. We take care of each other.
We are great together.
Fuck.
A new thought bursts through my mind, ravaging my brain with its truth. But it isn’t new at all. It’s a thought I’ve had for years. I just keep pushing it away, ignoring it. Looking at Braxton, standing in my doorway with a tray of soup he made for me, I can’t make it stop. I can’t get it out of my mind any more than I can ignore how it’s felt to have him with me these last four days.
I’m completely, totally, madly in love with him.
There is absolutely no question in my mind that I have to end it with Derek. It isn’t fair to either of us. I’m not even mad about the night I got sick. It was a dick move on his part, but it isn’t a deal breaker.
Braxton is the deal breaker.
I’ll simply tell Derek I don’t see our relationship going anywhere, and I think we should go our separate ways. I don’t know whether he’ll even care very much. When we first started dating, he seemed totally into me, but lately I’m left wondering if he’d notice if we didn’t see each other for a long time.
Regardless of my recent revelation, Derek and I don’t have a future, and I know it.
I have no clue what I’m going to do about Braxton. I’m a mess. Telling him the truth is completely out of the question. There is no way I can let this slip. We’ve been friends for too long, and this threatens every fiber of that friendship. Despite the way he looks at me sometimes, I can’t imagine he feels the same way. He’s just a shameless flirt. He’s not serious about any woman, so I can’t expect that he’d magically be serious about me. And the last thing I need is to become another notch on Braxton’s bedpost.
I try for almost a week to see Derek in person, but he always has a reason he can’t. I don’t want to do this over the phone, but I decide I can’t take the waiting anymore, and call him.
“Hey, babe,” he says. He sounds distracted.
“Derek, do you have a minute to talk?” I say. “Is this a good time?”
“Yeah, sure,” he says.
“Listen, I didn’t want to do this over the phone, but I keep trying to get together, and you’re always too busy,” I say.
“Okay.”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” There, I said it.
Derek is quiet for a long moment. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’m so sorry, Derek. You’re a great guy, but … we’re not great together. We’re just okay. I want more than okay.”
I hear him take a breath. “Yeah, I kind of knew this was coming. It sucks, Kylie. You’re a great girl.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I just … I can’t pretend, you know? I realized this isn’t going anywhere. We both deserve better than that.”
“I suppose we do,” he says.
Wow. This is, like, the easiest breakup I’ve ever had. We don’t even have stuff at each other’s places to worry about. “You okay?”
“Sure,” he says. “I’ll be fine. Take care, Kylie. It’s been real.”
“Yeah, you too.”
I hang up and sink down into the couch. I’m so grateful that’s over. It’s a ding to my pride that he didn’t try to change my mind, but I suppose that confirms I did the right thing.
Now what?
I need to tell Selene. Maybe she’ll be inspired to dump Matthew. She never has anything nice to say about their relationship anymore.
But it’s not Selene who floods my mind. It’s Braxton.
I wouldn’t normally get hold of him just to tell him I broke up with someone—not unless I was heartbroken and wanted to cry on his shoulder, which has happened more times than I’d like to admit.
I’m certainly not heartbroken now. But Derek was his client. I should give him a heads up. Just because of the impact to his business. That’s all.
I could text him, but I find myself dialing his number.
“Hey, baby girl,” he says.
My heart wants to leap out of my chest at the sound of his voice.
“Hi, Brax,” I say. Go on. Just say it. “If you’re not busy, do you want to grab dinner?”
Wait, why did I say that? I don’t need to do this in person.
“Love to,” he says. “Tonight?”
“Sure,” I say. Okay, this is fine. “Meet me at Brody’s in an hour?”
“I’ll be there,” he says.
***
I sit in a booth at the back of the restaurant. I’m glad they gave me this spot. I feel protected back here, without many customers nearby. I’m so jumpy, my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.
Braxton comes in, sunglasses on his face. Fuck, he’s beautiful. His muscles strain against his black shirt; his jeans drape perfectly down his strong legs. I can’t see his ass but I know how amazing it is, especially in those jeans. He pulls his sunglasses off and grins at me across the restaurant.
My tummy flutters like I’m a little girl with a crush. I smile and take a quick sip of water. Why am I so nervous? All I want to do is tell him I broke up with Derek. That shouldn’t be a big deal. He and I have been through more than our share of relationships over the years. Why does this feel like such momentous news? Like everything is going to change when I tell him?
He slides into the booth, and a waitress appears. She looks admiringly at him, more or less ignoring me. It pisses me off. I want to push her away from the table and tell her to stop fucking looking at him.
I take a deep breath. Wow, I’m really tense. I need to calm down, or I’m going to do something stupid. Very stupid.
Braxton orders a beer, and the waitress asks if I want a drink. I stick with water. I don’t want to drink tonight. I need all of my inhibitions in full force. I need a fucking wall of inhibitions to protect me. I cannot let him see what I’m feeling.
“You look great,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say. I haven’t seen him since the day he made me soup. Since the day I realized… No, don’t think about that, Kylie. “It’s nice to be in the land of the living again.”
“No shit.”
The waitress brings his beer. He winks at her and my back tightens.
This. This is why I have to keep these horribly traitorous feelings to myself. Braxton is a player to the zillionth degree. He’ll probably get that waitress’s phone number and fuck her before the week is out.
I am not equipped to deal with him.
“So, what’s up?” he asks. “Other than you need to fucking eat something. You look like you lost ten pounds.”
I did lose weight when I was sick, and it isn’t the good way to lose it. My face looks pretty gaunt. “I know, right?” I force a casual tone that I do not feel. “I think I’ll have a burger and fries. Maybe we should get an appetizer. Wanna share something? Onion rings sou
nd really good.”
I’m talking too fast, and Brax looks at me like he can tell there’s something going on. “You okay?”
“Sure, it’s just been too long since I got out of the house.”
He nods, but I see in his face that he doesn’t believe me. The waitress returns and he orders three appetizers. “You need to put some meat back on,” he says after she leaves.
“I broke up with Derek.” I blurt out the words before I can think.
Braxton’s face goes still, his eyes burning with intensity. He stares at me and his chest moves faster, his breath quickening. “What?”
Oh, shit. He’s pissed. I should have talked to him first. Derek was his client.
“I’m sorry, I know he was your client,” I say. “I hope this doesn’t mess anything up with your business.”
His eyebrows draw together. “Business? No. No, I don’t care.”
I swallow hard. Why is he looking at me like that? I expect him to laugh, and start cracking jokes about what a douche Derek is. That’s what he always does when I break up with someone. “Okay, well, that’s good,” I say. “Because I ended it with him a few hours ago.”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Are you fucking serious?”
He is not making me any less jittery. I feel like I’m going to jump out of my own skin. Does he think I made a mistake? “Yes.”
His eyes don’t move. They hold onto mine, locking them in place. I have no idea what is happening around me. There is nothing but Braxton’s dark eyes.
“Are you going to say something?” I ask.
He doesn’t. I don’t know what I want him to do, but he does nothing. Just stares at me.
“Why?” he asks, finally.
I’m so surprised by the question, I’m not sure what to say. I can’t very well tell him the truth. “I guess it wasn’t working. He’s not a bad guy, and I care about him. But that’s not enough.”
“It’s not enough,” he says. Suddenly he’s next to me, on my side of the booth. I scoot away, but his legs touch mine and his body is so close. He’s so much larger than me. He takes up all the space, sucks away all the air. I can barely breathe.
“I don’t know if I should do this,” he says in a low voice. His face is so close. “But I can’t let this go. Not again.” He looks away. That pain is in his eyes again, the one I saw at my place when I was sick.
He turns back to me, his face hard with resolve. He leans in, moving closer, his eyes on my mouth.
Oh my god, he’s going to kiss me.
I want him to, desperately. But if he kisses me, everything changes. We’ve never kissed. Never fooled around. As many times as we’ve been drunk off our asses together, nothing physical has ever transpired between us, innocent or otherwise. It’s a line we both know cannot be crossed. Like our unspoken pact about talking about our relationships. It’s what makes our friendship work. What makes us last.
His nose brushes mine and I tilt my face, giving him a clear path. He puts a hand on my arm and I tremble at his touch. His hand is hot on my skin. My heart races.
At first his lips barely brush against mine. He’s holding back, and I’m shocked to realize he’s trembling as much as I am. Electricity lights me up, shooting through my lips, straight to my chest. I suck in a little breath.
His lips press harder, and my eyes drift closed. I’m melting, my body turning to water, running down the seat and making a puddle on the floor. His scent floods through me, masculine, warm, familiar.
The kiss grows as we both relax into it. Vaguely, I’m aware we’re in a restaurant and perhaps food has just been set on the table. I don’t care.
He kisses me slowly. It’s not at all how I thought he would kiss. Braxton is brash and aggressive, but this kiss is sweet. Almost reverent. I open my lips and his tongue darts in, just a taste. Every move he makes is careful, tender.
Our lips part, and we hesitate there, breath on each other’s faces. My eyes are closed. I can’t bear to open them. I’m afraid that if I do I’ll wake up and realize this has all been another fever dream.
I’m dazed, but I open my eyes. Braxton is there, his eyes fierce. He leans his face beside mine, his mouth right at my ear, and makes a low noise in his throat. “Oh god, Kylie. I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
I’m utterly frozen. I can’t remember how to speak.
“If you say yes,” he growls in my ear, “we are going to walk out of here right now, go back to my place, and I’m going to fuck you like no one has ever fucked you before, or ever will again.”
My voice is nothing but a whisper. “What?”
“But you have to tell me yes,” he says. “You have to say you want this.”
“Yes.” I’m incapable of any other answer.
He pulls out his wallet and tosses a hundred-dollar bill on the table in the midst of our appetizers. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me out of the booth.
There are eyes on us as we leave, but we’re out the door so quickly they don’t matter. He only lives a few blocks away, so we walk up the street toward his condo. He holds my hand, twining his fingers through mine like we’re a normal couple out for an evening walk.
I’m terrified. What just happened? I was prepared for Braxton to laugh and make jokes, give me a good-natured hug to help me feel better. Maybe offer to get shit-faced with me. I was prepared to hold my feelings in, keep them on lockdown, make sure he couldn’t see what was happening inside me.
Instead, I’m quickly realizing he feels something, too. Something besides a long friendship.
It’s not long before we’re at his door. He takes out his keys and fits one into the lock. I’m bursting with adrenaline, my fight or flight response going crazy.
He pulls me inside, his hand still enveloping mine, and closes the door behind us. He pushes me back against the door, standing over me. He’s a big man, but he’s never made me feel small until this moment—probably because he’s never been this close for so long.
His eyes are all over my face, like he’s trying to memorize me. He holds himself up with one hand, while his other slips around my waist. It fits there perfectly, like he was always meant to hold me.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
I want to ask about Selene. What is she going to think? She’s going to be pissed—we both know that—but I don’t want him to stop looking at me this way.
“What if this is a mistake?” I ask.
“It isn’t,” he says, his voice forceful. Vehement. “It can’t be a mistake.”
I don’t want to lose him. When this ends, when we crash and burn—because this is Braxton and I know how this ends—I don’t want us to be over forever. How would I live without him?
But I’m too far gone to let that stop me now.
He glides his hand up my waist, brushing the side of my breast, up to my neck. He wraps his hand around the back of my head, his grip firm.
“I want you, Kylie,” he says. “I’ve wanted you for longer than you can imagine.”
Words completely fail me. I stare at him; his face is so close, his eyes boring through to my soul.
He takes my mouth with his—fucking takes it, like it belongs to him and always has. This is the kiss I expect from Braxton. Hard. Determined. Possessive. His hand holds my head in a steel grip, his lips firm. His tongue caresses mine, luxurious but forceful. I couldn’t keep my eyes open if I tried, and my mind goes blank. He’s completely overwhelming, kissing me in a way I’ve never been kissed in my entire life. I’ve never felt so open, so vulnerable. So needed.
I run my hands up his chest and grab his shirt, like I need to cling to him to keep from drowning. Our kiss deepens, sweeping me away with its power.
He pulls away and I try to follow. I don’t want him to stop.
“I’m going to show you, baby girl,” he says, running his thumb over my bottom lip.
“Show me what?” App
arently I can still form words.
“Everything,” he says. “Everything I’ve ever felt for you. I’m going to love every inch of you tonight.”
He kisses me again, running his fingers through my hair. Fuck, he’s good at this. I’m completely in his control. He could do anything with me right now.
He leaves my mouth and kisses a trail down my neck. I tip my head back, leaning against the door. His body presses against mine and—
Oh shit, is that—
“Do you see what you do to me?” he says into my ear.
His cock is rock solid, pushing against my hip, and it feels … huge. Like, holy shit is this for real? huge.
“What do you think, baby?” he asks. “Do you want me to fuck you against the door? Or should I take you to my bed for our first time?”
My eyes roll back into my head. “I want you to fuck me everywhere.”
He groans into my neck. His hands slide to my ass, and he hoists me up. I wrap my legs around his waist; he carries me to his bedroom, holding me like I weigh nothing.
He lays me down on his bed. I’m on fire with anticipation, my pussy hot, my body tingling. He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side, then slides off his pants. His cock bulges in his boxer briefs, almost sticking out the top. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but this time I don’t have to pretend I don’t notice. He’s fucking perfect. Broad chest, rippling abs and holy shit, the V. It cuts down between his hips, like a muscular arrow pointing to his cock. He might as well have Kylie, You Want This written across his abs.
He raises an eyebrow at me, one corner of his mouth turning up in a grin.
“You are so sexy when you look at me like that,” I say.
“Baby, I’ll do anything to keep you talking to me that way,” he says. He pushes his underwear down and kicks them off, revealing his magnificent cock, then smirks at me again.
“Like what you see?”
“Holy shit, Braxton,” I say. “Is this really happening?”
“It’s definitely happening,” he says. “And it’s going to keep happening.”
He unbuttons my jeans and slides them off. My heart races. Is Braxton really undressing me? I sit up a little so he can pull my shirt over my head.
Always Have: (Bad Boy Romance) Page 10