Crushed (Torn #7)(47)

“Wanna go grab something to eat?” he asked, murmuring against my ear.

His magic worked. Of course it did. As usual. The only problem I had was wondering if he was referencing food or something else entirely. If his tone was anything to go by, I could swear he was offering me something else that was not remotely food related.

“We’re talking about food here, right?” I had to double-check, hiding back a smile.

He gave a hearty laugh before kissing the side of my neck. “Yes, but I could eat you, too, if you like. Food can wait; food can definitely wait.”

How convincing he was, but if we kept going at this speed, we would be sick of each other in no time; thus, opting for the latter wasn’t a viable feat.

“Well, I can certainly do with some coffee and buttered toast right about now,” I finally said, full of longing, despite knowing it was for a greater good, mentally and sexually speaking.

“You sure?” he asked, and all the while, his tongue teased my earlobe. “ ‘Cause I’d rather have you for my first meal of the day.”

Oh, geez. Did he have any idea how hard it was to resist him when he was being so amorous? Alas, I had made up my mind about the subject.

“You know I love how convincing you can be, but let’s slow down a little, shall we? We can start by having coffee and maybe a conversation.” I didn’t want to set a serious tone so suddenly, yet I felt as though he and I needed to communicate in regards to ground rules.

His tongue teasing stopped before he resorted to kissing my neck. “All right.” He kissed my skin again. “Coffee and conversation it is, then.”

It couldn’t be helped; I had to laugh. It was obvious how much it took him to say those words, and I appreciated it.

“Aww, you’re the best part-time sex fiend ever.”

He snorted the got to his feet to go downstairs.

When I rolled to my other side to look at him, he bestowed the sexiest of smiles on me. “Remember your words well, pretty lady. Someday, you’re going to miss this part-timer, and then you’ll change your mind about the whole part-time thing and upgrade me to a full-time position.” Then, with a quick kiss on my forehead, he left me to simmer in my own thoughts.

Still staring at the door minutes after he had taken his temporarily leave towards the kitchen, I wondered why my life had been going on a fast lane as of late. I mean, it was only last night I had received a text from Rob and all the ugliness that came along with him had resurfaced with a vengeance. Then, less than twenty-fours later, there I was, moved into Brody’s bedroom, feeling elated and, well, pretty special. There were no other words to describe how I felt from how he had been treating me.

It was Brody’s way of healing me, helping me recover from what Rob had tainted me with until I could rebound back to my old self. Looking at it from that perspective, it sort of made sense. Brody, though dickish and douchey when it came to certain areas in his life regarding women, was also a nurturer and a protector to those he cared about. It couldn’t be helped. It was in his nature. And it made it difficult not to fall even more in love with him.

Maybe it was his agenda, maybe not, but it seemed like he was reversing the god awful bits that had happened to me as he was also reversing what my decision was about him. It was like hitting two birds with one stone. And if there was anyone to make me heal after the kind of trauma I’d had with Rob, Brody was the only answer, because I couldn’t think about trusting another man with myself except him. I needed someone to make me partially whole again, and Brody was the essential element.

After that massive realization, I saw him differently, as if I was seeing him with my old and yet revived eyes.

When he came back from the kitchen, armed with the requested goodies, he immediately sensed the change in me as he placed the tray in the middle of the bed, eyeing me suspiciously.

“What did I do now? I feel as though I did something, and I don’t know what that is. You do like buttered toast, right? Or did I get that wrong?” he said, unsure of himself.

“Nothing. I was just thinking, is all,” I finally said before sitting up on the bed, still reeling from my thoughts prior to his arrival. “I do love buttered toast,” I declared as I happily bit into one. “Love it, thank you.”

For the rest of the day, we stayed in bed, enjoying each other’s company as we channel surfed. Our conversations were nothing life changing. It wasn’t anything heavy that involved our past and our feelings towards one another. Anything and everything came up but those subjects. In some ways, I was happy we hadn’t opened the emotional box, but at the same time, there was a part of me that would always question, would always wonder about the “what ifs.” I guessed it was going to be my normal, and I had to learn how to live with that.

Later on that evening, after he practically carried me out in bed, arguing we needed some fresh air and were in dire need of a quiet walk on the beach, it was rather unexpected when he went all out to take me out on our first, “official” date as he called it.

It began as a simple trek on the sandy shore, but before we reached a secluded alcove that few people visited since it was quite a walk, I was in for a treat.

Unbeknownst to me, he had set up the spot prior to taking me outside. It was elaborate, cozy, and purely romantic. He had placed a great deal of effort and thought into it.

There was a lemon-yellow, linen blanket on the sand with a tiny bonfire to the side of it, making everything glow in a dreamy fashion as the sound of the nearby waves hitting the shore drifted to our spot in a hush. Then there was the rustic, tiny, café two-seater table with some fresh made pasta, antipasto, wine, and some amazing, fresh-made garlic bread that melted in my mouth with each delicious bite.