The Wrong Right Man(51)
“I’m not tired,” I tell him as he walks us into his room and lays me on the bed.
“Then you can just lie here with me,” he bosses, climbing into bed with me and tucking his face against the crook of my neck. “You should know,” he whispers as my body starts to relax, “my parents are going to love you, because they will see how happy you make me.”
“I thought I just made you crazy.”
“You do make me crazy.” He kisses my neck. “But you make me happy too. You’ve given me something I didn’t know I was missing until you came along. You’ve reminded me what’s important, that it’s the little things that matter most,” he says quietly as my throat gets oddly tight. “I forgot that along the way, forgot how good it feels to laugh, to relax and just be myself.” He laces his fingers through mine and brings our joined hands up to rest between my breasts. “I know I can’t stop you from worrying, but just know that no matter what happens, you’re mine and nothing is going to change that, because I refuse to give you up. And I will always keep you safe.”
“And do I get a say about you keeping me?”
“If it’s to disagree with me, no,” he replies, and I hear the smile in his voice.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I like it exactly where I am.”
“I guess so.” He kisses my neck once more and silence settles over us, his breath growing soft and even.
When I know he’s asleep, I roll over to face him and rest my hand on his cheek, whispering my truth into the dark. “I didn’t forget, because I never knew this kind of happiness existed before you came into my life and turned it upside-down.” I trace the edge of his jaw then tuck myself against his chest and close my eyes, knowing that even if I don’t fall asleep, there is nowhere else I want to be but right here in his arms.
________________
“I hate your phone,” I groan, waking up to the annoying ringtone I know is attached to Braxton’s cell. “I swear I’m going to shove that thing down the disposal and turn it on.” I hear the man I’m still curled up against chuckle, and I open one eye to glare at him. “I’m not joking.”
“Sorry, babe, it’s work.” He touches his lips to mine then rolls out of bed.
I pull his pillow over my head while shouting, “It’s always work! Being the CEO is a stupid job, especially if you can’t even take Sunday off to sleep in and relax.”
I listen to him laugh then a moment later hear the door close as he leaves the room. I try to go back to sleep, wanting nothing more than to stay here the rest of the day hidden away, but thoughts of his parents coming, the call I have to make to Jamie, and going down to my place to try and salvage some of my stuff plagues me.
With a groan, I toss his pillow away and get out of bed. I go to his shower and turn it on. While the water warms up, I use his toothbrush and paste to brush my teeth, making a mental list of all the things I need to pick up at some point today. I know for sure I will not be wearing any of the undergarments I had in my apartment. I don’t even want to imagine what was done to or with them. I also need some clothes, shower stuff, makeup, and I’m sure even more I won’t remember until I need it.
After I get out of the shower, I wrap one towel around myself then another around my hair and open the door that leads to the closet. The room is big enough to be someone’s bedroom and looks like a small men’s department store. I start to open drawers to find something to wear and pause when I find a one drawer is nothing but ties that all look the same, just in different shades of gray, black, and navy-blue. With a shake of my head I close that drawer then open the rest until I find a pair of boxers, socks, and a T-shirt. I get dressed then go back to the bathroom, taking the towel from my head and hanging it up. Since I don’t have a brush and all I can find is Braxton’s comb, I run my fingers through my wet hair, trying to get most of the knots out, a task that feels hopeless with two days of not using conditioner.
“My parents are going to be up here in less than thirty minutes. They called when they were crossing the bridge into the city,” Braxton says, patting my ass as he walks past me, and my eyes widen in horror as he continues to speak from the closet he disappears into. “I told my mom you’re here. She’s excited to meet you.”
I look around the room for somewhere to hide then shake my head. I don’t need to hide here. I have an apartment just a few stories down. I leave the bathroom and go in search of my phone and bag so I can get into my apartment, for the first time wishing I wouldn’t have taken off my stupid watch, because I could use it to get into my place. Not finding my stuff in the bedroom, I go to the kitchen then the living room and the office I found the last time I was here.
“Can I ask what it is you’re looking for?” Braxton asks casually, and I turn, finding him leaning against the counter in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee.
“I need my bag and my phone,” I tell him, going back to search under the couch, since I didn’t look there.
“Why do you need your purse?”
I rest my hands on my hips, breathing heavy. “I need to go home.”
“You’re not going home,” he states, taking a sip of his coffee.
I stomp my foot. “Braxton, right now is not the time for you to tell me what I can or can’t do. I need to go home. I haven’t used conditioner in two days and I’m not meeting your parents for the first time while wearing your underwear.”