The Wrong Right Man(26)

His hand lands back on my knee, and he holds it there, not saying anything, just waiting for me to look at him. When I do, his voice is soft as he asks, “Not around, as in they don’t live here, or not around at all?”

“My dad passed when I was fifteen. My mom passed away two years later.”

“Dakota—”

“Please don’t,” I say quietly, covering his hand with mine. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you, Dakota. I just want to understand.”

“My mom survived the car accident that killed my dad then she got addicted to pain medication and killed herself.”

“So, you and Jamie…?”

“So me and Jamie wound up living in foster care. Thankfully, we found a family who took us both in, so things weren’t as bad for us as they could have been if we’d been separated.”

“Jesus.”

“It could have been worse.” I shrug, turning away from him, and begin moving my food from one side of my plate to the other.

“Don’t do that.” He squeezes my leg.

“Do what?” I turn to lock eyes with him.

“Try to play it off like that shit didn’t mark you. Like you’re hard as stone and nothing can hurt you.” I rub my lips together while staring into his eyes. “It’s okay to let your guard down and be vulnerable around me.”

Is it? I mean, our relationship so far has been built on lies and a hefty amount of lust. It’s not exactly the solid foundation you need in order to trust someone.

“Maybe one day I’ll get to a place with you where I feel comfortable letting you see all the ugly parts of me,” I say, wanting to be honest. “But right now, I’m not there.”

“I get that.” He lifts his hand and his fingers softly touch my cheek. “I just want you to know I’m here if you want to talk.”

“I’ve dealt with my past, Braxton. I don’t need a counselor or a therapist.”

“I’m sure you don’t but I would like to be your friend.”

“None of my friends have seen me naked.”

His lips twitch. “A different kind of friend then.”

“Right.” My own lips quirk into a smile then his wrist starts to flash, gaining his attention.

“Shit, I gotta take this call.”

“That’s okay,” I say, catching a glimpse of the time. “I should go down to my place and get ready for work.”

“I’m gonna assume there is no way I can convince you to hang out here in my bed all day.”

I laugh, tossing my head back, and when my hilarity dies down, I find him watching me closely. “What?”

“Nothing, I just like hearing you laugh,” he says softly, leaning in to touch his lips to my forehead. “Send me a message when you get down to your place.”

“I’m just going downstairs. I doubt anyone is going to kidnap me.”

“Just send me a text,” he insists.

I give in with a sigh that makes him smile and stand. He takes my hand and walks me to the elevator, even though it’s only across the room. When the doors open, I lift up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Have a good day at work.”

“You too.” He squeezes my waist then lets me go.

I step into the elevator and lean against the wall as the doors close, expecting him to come in and ravish me. But then I have to tell myself I’m not disappointed when that doesn’t happen. I watch the numbers drop as I head to my place and wonder if it’s too late to go back and tell him I’d like nothing more than to spend the day in his bed. But as much as I want that, I want my job. I want independence and a life I’ve built for myself.

________________

I look up from my computer when someone clears their throat and smiles. “Hey, Mat.”

“Mike.” He points his thumb at his chest. “I’m Mike.” Darn, I should be able to tell the two men I work with apart, but honestly, they look almost identical, both with brown wavy hair that’s messily styled, both tan, and both attractive in that wholesome kind of way.

“Sorry.” I smile sheepishly.

“It’s okay. It happens.” He shrugs, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his slacks. “I just wanted to come over and tell you that I really liked your show today. We all did.” He looks around then leans into me. “Kathy is cool, but she’s not really open to new ideas.”

“I kind of got that.” I laugh softly. During my entire show this afternoon she was watching me with a scowl and a whole lot of headshakes because I wasn’t following her notes completely. Instead I was doing what I felt would draw in customers, and I think it worked since I sold out of the product I was presenting.

His eyes drop to my mouth, and he clears his throat before meeting my gaze once more. “A few of us are getting together after work tonight for a drink across the street at the Gull. It would be cool if you’d join us.”

“I’d like that.”

“Awesome, I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, see you there,” I agree, and he smiles before he turns and walks away. I glance down at my phone, wondering if I should send Braxton a message, then get annoyed with myself for even thinking about checking in with him. He’s not my boyfriend; I don’t need to let him know what I’m doing. Besides, I’m just going out for one drink. I can still meet him for dinner afterward. With that last thought, I get back to work, trying to incorporate Kathy’s ideas with some of my own for the next time I’m scheduled to be on air which isn’t easy to do, but I’m determined.