The Wrong Right Man - Aurora Rose Reynolds Page 0,17

When I reach the lobby, I wave at the doorman as he opens the door for me and look both ways when I reach the sidewalk before I take off on a jog.

I pull my hoodie up over my hair when it starts to drizzle and run down the block toward the park, enjoying the cool breeze and even the mist as it brushes against my skin. Ten minutes into my run, I notice a black car with dark-tinted windows on the street seems to be following me. I shove my hands into my hoodie pocket for my cell just in case then bite back a curse when I don’t find it and realize I left it next to my bed. The sidewalk is quiet; just a few people are out, so I follow my gut and turn left when I reach the end of the block, noting the car mirrors my move.

I pick up speed when I spot a drug store and dip inside, waiting at the door for the car to pass, but it doesn’t. It stops right out front. With my heart pounding, I figure it will take them time to turn around if I head back to my building, so I exit when the next person enters and run at full speed down the block and around the corner. I don’t even look to see if the car has turned around and I’m so focused on breathing and not tripping over my feet, I don’t have time to stop when someone steps into my path. I barrel into them at full speed, hearing them grunt as they wrap their arms around me to keep me from taking us both to the ground.

“I’m sorry, so sorry.” I place one hand against a hard chest and attempt to push away.

“Dakota.”

No, it can’t be.

I lift my head, coming face-to-face with Braxton.

“Are you okay?”

“W-What a… are you doing here?” I pant, trying to catch my breath.

“Why does it look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he asks, ignoring my question, and I look behind me then along the street to see if the car is there, but it’s nowhere in sight.

“I…” I lick my lips, shaking my head knowing I just freaked myself out for no reason. “I haven’t ran in a while,” I lie, and the air around us seems to fill with electricity as I look into his eyes. “Why are you here? I thought you were going out of town?”

“I am.” He glances toward the street, and I follow his gaze, noticing a silver SUV waiting near the curb with a large man standing outside near the driver door with his eyes on Braxton. “Did you get the flowers?” he asks, touching my cheek, and I focus on him then drop my eyes to his side and the suitcase there, putting two and two together.

“Do you live here?” I ask, taking a step away from him and watching his jaw twitch and his hand form a fist as it drops to his side.

“I do.”

I nod, wrapping my arms around my middle, wondering why he never mentioned living in the building when I told him it’s where I lived. Oh right—because he’s a big, fat liar.

“Have a good trip.” I turn to walk away as anger creeps up my spine.

“Dakota.” He takes hold of my bicep, stopping me, and I look at him over my shoulder. “We’ll talk.” He skims his finger along my cheek, and I soak in the feeling of his touch then force myself to shrug off his hold. I head inside, feeling the heat of his gaze as I go to the elevator, but I don’t turn to confirm he’s watching me. When the doors open, I step inside then rest back against the wall and wait for them to shut.

Just as they’re about to close, they are pried back open and Braxton appears with his chest heaving. I stare at him with wide eyes, unsure what to do or say as he stares back. When he steps toward me, my breath freezes in my lungs, and then before I can prepare, his body and mouth crash into mine. I react without thinking, sliding my fingers into his hair, and he groans. I whimper against his tongue when he lifts me off my feet and holds me against the wall, his hips locking me in place.

Even as my mind screams at me to push him away, I pull him closer, and his tongue flicks against