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 sound 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.