The Wrong Right Man(40)
We’ve got each other. I know that, but I want more. I want a husband and a family, and part of me hopes Braxton is going to be a part of my story. I just really need him to prove he’s capable of not acting on instinct and being the man I need him to be. We have enough drama between us without him adding more. I can admit I care about him, but I don’t like that he’s constantly doing things that make me feel like he has the upper hand.
“I think you should cut him some slack,” he says, and I look up at him as he dips his head down toward me. “I’m not saying you should let him off the hook for the shit he’s done, but part of me knows he’s trying to find a way to make things work between you two. He cares about you.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little insane how he’s acted?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really cared about a woman besides you, so I can’t say what I would do to make sure the person I cared about was safe.”
“I don’t need him to take care of me, Jamie, and I’m not doing anything that would put me in danger,” I say, and his arm around me seems to tighten ever so slightly. “What. What is that?”
“I think you should give him a chance to explain himself,” he replies before pressing his lips to the top of my head. “I don’t want to go, but I need to meet up with Dan. We’re supposed to finalize the schedule for the next few months.” He lets me go and stands.
I want to ask him what his subtle reaction was about, if he knows something I don’t, but I keep my mouth closed. He doesn’t need to worry about me right now. In a way, his life is just starting, and I don’t want to complicate that or make him feel like he needs to choose between me and his future.
“I’ll be at your show Friday,” I say quietly, getting up to walk him to the door.
“I’ll be looking for you,” he responds, and then he stops and turns to face me. “Call me—if anything happens or if you just need to talk.”
My chest warms. “Thanks, big brother.” I give him a hug then open the door.
With a lift of his chin, he’s gone and I lock up. I look around my empty apartment and walk over to my bed, where I flop down face-first then roll to my back. I stare at the ceiling, thinking it’s way too quiet, and worse, a little bit lonely.
“I should get a fish,” I mutter to myself. I mean, I don’t really think a fish is exactly good company, but at least it would be something. Maybe I’ll become the fish lady, with a hundred fish tanks to take care of, since I don’t think I can become a dog lady, not with how much time they require. And cats are out of the question, since I’m allergic, even though I wish I wasn’t.
With a groan, I pull my pillow over my head. I must be more tired than I thought I was, because I wake up to an annoying buzzing sound in that exact position. I toss my pillow away and get up to stumble to the door half asleep, and I press the intercom when I get there. “Hello.”
“Ms. Newton, I have a delivery for you. Are you available to accept it?”
I blink at the clock across the room and see it’s six, around the time I usually get up to start getting ready for work.
“Ms. Newton, are you there?”
“Sorry, yes, you can bring it up.” I release the button then walk into the kitchen and fill my teakettle, willing it to boil.
I yawn as there is a knock on the door, and when I open it, I don’t know what I’m expecting, but it’s not someone just handing me a card. I accept it with a quiet “thank you” then walk over to the couch and stare at the sealed envelope, flipping it over in my hands before finally ripping open the seal. I unfold the white piece of paper, and I swallow as I read the typed-out words.
I’m sorry,
Braxton
I want to believe him. I want to believe he really is sorry, but I’m not sure he even thinks what he did was wrong—not after everything he’s done and continues to do. I ball up the paper in my hand and drop it to the floor at my feet. Then I get up and grab a cup of tea before going to get ready for work.
And when I get home that evening, I find a beautiful, brightly colored betta fish in a simple glass bowl on my kitchen counter along with a container of food. I tap the glass smiling then take off my watch and toss it into one of the drawers.
Chapter 11
Dakota
STANDING IN MY bathroom with Samantha next to me, both of us primping to go out tonight for Jamie’s show, I meet her gaze in the mirror and smile as she picks up her wineglass to take a sip. This week, we’ve spent a lot of time together, not just at work but we’ve had lunch together every day and went out for drinks a couple times. It’s been nice having a friend, and I’m looking forward to having her with me tonight to keep me company.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks, and I laugh, because she already sounds a little tipsy. Then again, I might be a little tipsy myself.
“Sure.”
“What’s going on with you and Mr. Adams?”
At her question, I almost burn myself as I fumble with my curling rod. Besides Samantha mentioning Braxton showing up at the bar, no one has questioned me. Not one person has even given me a funny look. It’s like it never happened at all, and because of that, I kind of forgot it even did.