The Wrong Right Man - Aurora Rose Reynolds Page 0,60
it you think will happen to me if you don’t have control when it comes to me?”
“I don’t know.” He rests his hands on the counter and his knuckles turn white, like he doesn’t like the things his mind comes up with.
“Do you understand that all it does when you overstep is push me away and make me want to rebel?”
“I’m learning that,” he grumbles, not sounding happy about that either.
I get up off my stool and walk around the kitchen to him, and he turns toward me once I’m close. I place my hands on his chest and lean into him. “I don’t want to be controlled, Braxton. That might be something I’m okay with in the bedroom, but when it comes to life, I don’t want someone telling me what to do. I want a partner. I want a man who will listen to what I want and need, someone to share things with.”
“You can share things with me.” He settles his hands on my waist and drags me against him.
“Can I?” I shake my head, trying not to become frustrated, because so far he’s proven I can’t. “You sent my brother to come to the coffee shop where I was meeting Troy, and that was something I didn’t even tell you about.” I feel his hands wrap tight into my shirt at my sides and watch his face get hard.
“He cheated on you. You don’t need to be alone with him.”
“I was in a public place, and I was meeting him to get my stuff—not for a date or to talk about us getting back together. And again, I never told you I was meeting him. You found out, because you used information I didn’t give you.” His jaw tics, and I know I’ve proven my point. Thank God, maybe we can actually get somewhere this time.
“Why didn’t you tell me about meeting up with him?”
Okay, maybe not. “Because I knew that if I did, there would be drama, and I was over dealing with drama.”
“You didn’t tell Jamie either,” he says like he’s just made his point, when he most definitely has not.
“Yeah, because I know my brother, and like you, he would make the situation more complicated and uncomfortable than it needed to be, which he did when he showed up.”
“I’m not going to apologize for that,” he states, lifting me up onto the counter and forcing his way between my knees. “Jamie told me he didn’t even have your stuff, that he left it in his car, which I’m sure was a move he made in order to get more time with you.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” I roll my eyes and push on his chest. “I’m not stupid or helpless, Braxton. I know how to take care of myself.”
“I never said you were stupid or helpless, but if I can do something to reassure myself that you’re okay, I’m going to do it, and I won’t apologize afterward.”
“You did apologize,” I remind him. “You sent me a note that said you were sorry.
“Sorry about you being upset. Sorry I’m so fucking obsessed with you that I will go to whatever lengths to get even the smallest piece of information about you. Sorry that I want you to myself and wish I could lock you away until you became as obsessed with me as I am with you.”
“You do know that just being you—not the crazy you, but the sweet, funny, and adorably frustrating you—is doing that, right? You don’t have to be so extreme.”
He lowers his head and kisses my neck. “I can try.”
“Try?” I ask, and he pulls back to meet my gaze.
He rests his forehead against mine. “I think I told you before, baby. I don’t want to lie to you anymore, and I know telling you what you want to hear would be a lie. All I can do is promise I’ll try to loosen up a bit.”
I close my eyes and slide my hands up his chest, around the back of his neck, and through his hair, cupping the back of his head.
“Okay.” I lean up, and he closes the distance, touching his lips to mine. “I want this to work, Braxton. I want this crazy, intense thing between us to work just as much as you do.”
“Good.” He slides his hands around my hips and down to cup my ass, and then he lifts me off the counter.