His grin was cocky now as he looked back at me. “Were you jealous?”
Were we actually having this conversation? I hadn’t seen him in two weeks and, and… pfft! Smiling in astonishment at his egotism, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know, it’s a wonder I managed to squeeze into the room what with your giant-assed ego taking up all the space.”
Braden laughed. “Well you ran off because of something, Jocelyn.”
“One: stop calling me Jocelyn. It’s Joss. J-o-s-s. Joss. And two: you had just insinuated that I was somehow ‘family’ after only knowing me a few weeks.”
His brow puckered as he processed this and he leaned back against the desk again, crossing his arms over his wide chest as he thought about it. “I did?”
“You did.”
Suddenly his eyes were searching my face and they were full of all sorts of questions. “Ellie told me about your family. I’m sorry.”
My muscles locked, the heat he’d created evaporating as if he’d just blasted on the a/c. What could I say? I didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it, and I also didn’t want him psycho-analyzing me. “It was a long time go.”
“I didn’t realize I’d insinuated that. About family. But things are starting to make sense. The dinner at Elodie’s… you running off-”
“Don’t,” I snapped, taking three steps towards him. “Braden, don’t,” my voice quieted as I tried to calm down the urge to bite at him like a wounded animal. “I don’t talk about it.”
As he studied me I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Did he think I was nuts? Pathetic? Did I care? And then he just nodded. “I get it. We don’t have to…”
Relief washed over me and I took a step back only for Braden to move into me so he was almost touching me again. “I was thinking of having a picnic on The Meadows this Saturday if it’s nice out—to make it up to Ellie for not being around a lot lately. I know she misses Adam too. Will you come?”
“That depends?” I found my way back to snarksville in an attempt to feel less off-balance. “Are you going to insinuate that I’m jealous of the sandwich you’ll be eating?”
He burst out laughing, a full body laugh that did sweet things to my insides. “I deserve that.” He prowled closer so I had to step back. “But will you forgive me and come? As friends?” However, there was something deliberately sarcastic about the way he said ‘friends’.
I eyed him suspiciously. “Braden…”
“Just friends.” His gaze dropped to my mouth and darkened. “I told you. I can pretend if you can pretend.”
“I’m not pretending.” Was that my voice that sounded all hot and breathy?
Braden just smirked at me like he didn’t believe me. “You know you’re really putting pressure on my acting skills.”
“Acting skills?”
“Pretending, Jocelyn.” He took another step forward, his eyes narrowed with intent. “I’ve never been very good at it.”
Oh my God, he was going to kiss me. I was standing in his office in crappy jeans with crappy hair and he was going to kiss me.
“Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Rosings and Ms. Morrison are here to see you,” Morag’s voice echoed into the office from the intercom and Braden tensed.
A strange mix of relief and disappointment flooded me and I took an uneasy step back, turning towards the door. “I’ll let you get on.”
“Jocelyn.”
I twisted around, my eyes looking anywhere but into his. “Yeah?”
“The picnic? Will you be there?”
The blood was still whooshing in my ears and my body was still strung tight with anticipation for his kiss, but I shoved that all aside, remembering who he was and how much he scared me. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “As your little sister’s roommate, yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Not as my friend?” he teased.
“We’re not friends, Braden.” I pulled his office door open.
“No. We’re not.”
I didn’t have to turn around to see his expression. I felt it in his words. Hurrying down the hall, I barely managed a quick wave to Morag before diving into the elevator that would take me away from him. What had happened? Where had the platonic, ‘friendly’ Braden gone, and why was ‘Cab Braden’ back? I thought I wasn’t his type? I thought I was safe.
No. We’re not. Those words echoed in my head as I burst out of the office building and into the fresh air. It wasn’t the words. It was the tone they’d been wrapped up in. And those words had been wrapped up in a whole lot of sexual intent.
Fuck.
10
I didn’t go to Braden’s picnic.
Well, I did, but I didn’t.