I crumple my napkin, my heart already protesting our arrangement.
The irony couldn’t be any more glaring. My ex pushed for us to be more, to speed things up, and I bucked every step of the way. I didn’t want to move too fast. Didn’t want to rush things. But with Brady, I feel sucked in, like he’s the tidal wave, and I’m the sand.
I should look on the bright side—he stayed in my bed last night. I fully expected him to bolt. Isn’t that what guys do after sex? But Brady is a good guy and held me tightly after. I haven’t slept that well since before Mel and Cal died.
Trudging to my room, I feel a heaviness settle in my stomach as I hear him playing with Izzy in the tub.
Some day soon, this will end. Brady is taking Izzy to Boston. Get used to the idea. Don’t get attached.
I don’t bother to turn on the lights as I strip out of my jeans and slide off my bra and collapse in bed. I can’t bring myself to see if Brady wants to hang out tonight or to debate what it means if he doesn’t. Vowing to get my shit together and start looking for a job tomorrow, I pull the covers over me and curl up against my pillow.
My eyes flutter closed. In the background, the baby monitor hums the quiet sounds of Izzy getting tucked in.
I’m going to miss this. Being here. Playing with the baby and seeing Brady every morning as we wait for the coffee to percolate. Having them both all to myself.
Finally, I start to drift off despite the raw restlessness that aches in my bones.
The creak of the door breaks through my dreamless sleep.
“Hey,” Brady whispers. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to sleep. Are you okay?”
I automatically reach for him, and he scoots me over and tugs me to his chest where I snuggle against him. He’s cozy and warm, his heat radiating through his t-shirt and sweatpants.
“Hmm.” I don’t want to tell him more. I don’t want to voice my fears.
His hand runs up and down my back, and I shiver closer.
“You cold, baby?”
I nod, and he pulls the blankets higher. We’re resting chest to chest, and he’s hard against my thigh.
“Did you come in for a booty call?” I murmur sleepily.
He chuckles. “No, not really. But my dick has a mind of its own when you’re around.” He strokes my hair, and I’m so relaxed, I could purr. “I actually just wanted to see if you’d like to hang out and watch The Walking Dead, but you’re all sleepy and warm and sexy as fuck.”
I laugh and snuggle closer, tossing my leg over his muscular thigh. “Mmm. That actually sounds really good. I love zombies.”
We might have just agreed to watch TV, but neither of us attempts to get up.
His hand travels under the back of my shirt and my skin tingles under his warm touch. We’re just lying here against each other, but already I can feel every cell in my body awaken.
I arch my hips, needing friction for the sudden throb between my legs. He does that. Makes me ache. Getting the hint, he grabs my hips and pulls me fully on top of him where I stretch out like a lazy cat.
My hands dip under his t-shirt to glide over his smooth muscles. I lean down and run my nose along his neck. He smells like soap and warm man.
Reaching up, he pulls out my ponytail, and my hair cascades around us. He’s watching me, his dark green eyes hooded, his lips slightly parted.
I don’t know where my bravado comes from, but I have to ask… “Did you think about me today, about this?” It’s a shameless question but an easy one to ask in the dark.
“Only every fucking minute.” He threads his fingers through my hair and pulls me close so his lips brush against my ear, giving me chills. “I can’t stop thinking about you riding me,” he whispers as I press my weight down on his erection. “All day. Half thought about pulling the truck over behind Hank’s nursery to test out the suspension.”
Smiling, I try to calm the beating of my heart. “Why didn’t you pull over?”
He stills. “Babe, you deserve better than a quick fuck in the enclosed cab.”
I hold my breath, afraid to give in to the hope blooming in my chest. Brady, we could be amazing together, I think, wishing I could say the words.
But then he flexes his hips, and the contact against my core feels so good, I moan. His grip tightens on my skin. “I swear I didn’t wake you up to get laid.”
I laugh, sitting up to strip off my shirt. “Sure you did,” I joke.
He reaches up and strokes my cheek with his thumb, the calloused pad of his finger trailing against my skin. “Kat, I’m serious. We can stop right now. I just came in to spend time with you. We don’t have to have sex.”
The fear I’ve carried around me all day begins to uncoil. He wants me for more than one night. I swallow. Maybe this isn’t meaningless for him. Only a guy who respects you, a friend, would say something like that.
And that right there makes me want to give him my heart. As stupid as that may be.