of Bangkok, and damn, were those some pretty boys, went to the Edvard Munch exhibit out in the west of the city at The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art, and we bought cheap tickets to this young, up and coming comedian who was stuck in a dingy room in the dated building of the Student Union at the university main campus. Being in the union brought back a lot of memories of Rhian, James and I hanging out in there. I tried to let myself enjoy the crowds of the festival, the tourists everywhere, the smell of coffee, and beer, and hot food everywhere. Peddlers on the sidewalk, peddling their wares—jewelry, posters, random mementos, flyers everywhere.
I also paid a traumatizing visit to my therapist and spoke about Dru for the first time.
Yeah. I didn’t want to think about it.
Suffice to say by the time Thursday rolled around I’d managed to convince myself that Braden had only been playing with me. After all, if he’d been serious he would have at least texted me to make sure I hadn’t forgotten him, but nope. Nothing. Nada.
I’d changed my shifts at work from Thursday, Friday, to Friday and Saturday nights so I was free to hang out at home. When Ellie told me she was staying with her mom that night because she felt like hanging out with her family, I stupidly didn’t think anything of it. I was unprepared. I was relaxed, thinking Braden had forgotten about me.
I stuck my stupid head out of my stupid hidey-hole.
That’s when Braden swooped in like a big-ass eagle.
The apartment was silent except for the sitting room, where I was curled up on an armchair, sipping from a glass of wine and watching Zack Snyder’s 300. I realize now what a bad idea that had been. All those rippling muscles and the languid side-effect of the wine… I blamed it all for what happened next.
“You know you should really lock the door when you’re home alone.”
“Shit!” I jumped, spilling wine all over my jeans. I shot out of the chair, glaring at Braden who stood in the doorway, looking un-amused. What did he have to be pissed about? His favorite jeans hadn’t just gotten ruined! “Jesus C, Braden, for the last time would you freaking knock!”
His eyes dropped to my stained jeans before flicking back to my face. “If you promise to lock the door when you’re home alone.”
I grew still, taking in his serious expression. Was he… concerned about me? I frowned, and dropped my gaze as I put my almost empty glass on the coffee table. “Fine,” I murmured, unsure of what to do with that.
“Ellie’s gone for the night.”
My eyes shot to his face and I found him watching me intently. He was wearing a suit, but he looked a little rumpled, like he’d been working for hours and had come to see me without making a pit stop. My stomach flipped as realization dawned. “Did you orchestrate that?”
The left side of his mouth quirked up. “For future reference, Ellie can be bought with a box of champagne truffles.”
I was going to kill the traitor.
Especially because Braden looked so damn good. That and the fact that the costume department for 300 had done a number on my libido caused the hormonal wreck that stood before Braden. I willed myself to take Dr. Pritchard’s advice and stop thinking fifty steps ahead. I told myself all the time that I was living life in the present because planning a future was just so terrifying. But while I lived my life in the present, I constantly worried about what awaited me tomorrow, and I think the good doctor was suggesting I take my own damn advice and live for today.
But with Braden?
It was too dangerous. I already knew I didn’t want a relationship with him.
“I take it you weren’t expecting me?” Braden asked as he settled himself on the couch.
Not wanting to appear intimidated, I slipped back into my seat on the armchair. “No. I managed to convince myself through wishful thinking that we were done with whatever that was that happened before…”
He shrugged out of his jacket. “You mean when I dry humped you against a wall?”
My jaw locked with irritation. If he’d been a character in a book, I would have hated his dirty mouth. As it was, my body loved his dirty mouth. No need to tell him that. “You know, Braden, I’ve watched you over the last few months and you’re