Ask Me Why(49)

I wink at him, but say nothing. It’ll be a fun surprise for him to discover the memory foam.





Brance



Pitch



Braelyn’s blinker is a glowing beacon in the pitch-black nothingness. There are no street lamps lining this road. A sense of our location finally kicks in when she hits the brakes. I’ve been dutifully following her for miles, and we’re finally getting somewhere. The lack of control was allowing reality to settle, but the slightest spark reignites my hunger.

I slow down as Braelyn turns her car into the driveway. The garage door lifts, and she pulls inside. Exterior lights flicker on, illuminating her house. I park along the curb in front of her mailbox. Maintaining some semblance of distance seems necessary in this moment. Getting too close or comfortable is a hell no. I cut the engine and sink into my leather seat. A final blast of cool air streams from the vent. It doesn’t alleviate the fire in my blood.

My body is still humming, the possibilities spinning on an erotic loop. Even with time to get my shit sorted, I’m sporting a semi. Braelyn’s effect on me is too intense. There’re countless feet of space between us, but I can feel her against me. That level of chemistry is an intoxicating trip. I curse a blue streak into my palms. Enough fucking stalling.

I grab a foil packet from the center console, snatching a second one just in case. Nothing is safe when living with a nosey kid. He sniffs out anything of interest with the nose of a bloodhound. I shove out of my car and stride toward her.

The groan of the garage closing breaks into the otherwise quiet night. Braelyn is waiting for me on the cobbled path, gaze averted and feet shuffling. My heavy steps boom across the concrete. She takes notice, lifting her eyes to meet mine. Her slight figure appears angelic under the lamp’s gleaming brightness. There’s fiery turbulence in her green pools, too much left unspoken. But the heat wafting off her is undeniable. Without a word, Braelyn turns and strolls to her front door.

I’m being selfish. Making the decision to fuck Braelyn is reckless. I’ve plowed forward without taking her feelings into consideration. But she assured me this was okay. Her argument was convincing. She made a solid case for why this is a fantastic idea. And here I stand.

Why the fuck am I trying to find reasons opposing this? I need to drop the whiny bitch act.

But Braelyn isn’t some random woman I met in a bar. This choice involves more than the two of us. I need to be absolutely certain that these lines remain drawn. That’s important to me, for my son’s sake. The guarantee of her word takes far higher priority than a quick fuck.

I pause on her porch, one step away from crossing the threshold. “Can you keep this,” I motion between us, “separate from your relationship with Ollie?”

Braelyn’s expression cools slightly. “We’ve already addressed this.”

I return her annoyance. “I’m aware. But it’s not too late for us to stop.”

“I have zero expectations beyond tonight.”

Can she actually be so chill about this? I haven’t given her nearly enough credit. “My intentions were decent. But I can’t deny my desire for you. Tell me you want this.”

“I do. Pretty sure we’ve already crossed that line.”

“Sex is a totally different ballgame.”

“Ah, we’re rounding bases.”

I shrug. “It’s kinda my thing.”

She pops out a hip and crosses her arms. “You’re used to this arrangement, I get it. I’m not kidding myself into believing this is special.”

I smirk. Snarky Braelyn is much easier to handle. “Baseball. I used to play.”

The tension in her shoulders melts. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Thanks for attacking my character.”

“Don’t pretend to be offended. I’m sure you have a reputation to uphold.”

The pressurized balloon in my gut deflates. I’m the foolish one in this scenario. “I’ve been known to swing for the fences.”

Braelyn blinks at me. I laugh at her blank stare.

“Getting a home run,” I supply.

She tilts her head. “I like this playful side of you. Dare I say, you’re a bit charming.”

The cheesy comment doesn’t bother me. I’m over the stupidity hump. Not much can deter me at this point. The prospect of fucking her is enough to keep me immune to typical annoyances. But if I’m being honest, letting her smooth some sharp edges doesn’t seem terribly unreasonable. I could probably benefit from reining in the shit.

She twirls her keys around a finger. “Ready?”

I nod and she unlocks the deadbolt. With the weight lifted off my chest, I follow her inside.

I kick off my shoes and tuck them along the entryway wall. There’s a small closet propped open. I shuck out of my jacket and hang it up. A quick glance around shows me an open floor plan. The space is modest and neat. But fuck the interior decorating.

Braelyn moves down the hall. “Do you want something to drink?”

I’m hot on her heels, hypnotized by the gentle sway of her hips. “I have a nightcap planned.”

She peeks back at me and bites her lip. “Straight to it?”

“Why wait?” Lord knows I’ve done enough pussy-footing for the both of us.

She reaches an open doorway and trails inside. The room is dark but smells of lavender and sugar. My mouth is already watering for another taste. But that can come after. The tent in my pants is far more demanding.