He’d taken my hand hostage and seemed reluctant to let it go. God, I’d missed his touch even more than I realized. My blood simmered any time our skin made contact. I needed a moment to just breathe. Crossing the room, I ran my finger over the top of the desk, stalling for time. What was there to say?
Braydon stalked toward me, his eyes once again caressing my curves and making me feel all but naked. I took a step back. This room was way too small and suddenly much too warm.
“You left me,” he murmured.
I remained silent. There was no sense in arguing. I had left him without any explanation.
“I thought you’d gone for a drink or something at first, but then I noticed your suitcase was gone. I called Emmy and she didn’t know a thing.”
I hadn’t even messaged Emmy to tell her I was back in New York until the following morning. I didn’t want to be talked into staying.
His fingertip traced my hip bone in the most distracting way. “Did I not give you what you needed?” he whispered.
“In the bedroom, yes. But outside of it, no. I needed more, a lot more.” I wasn’t going to deny that any longer.
“I see.” He dropped his hand from my waist and the absence of his touch left me bereft, wanting. “I’ve missed you, if that counts for anything.”
It did. I heaved a breath inward. God, I shouldn’t have drunk all those Cosmos. I felt slightly dizzy and a lot horny. Bad combination around this man. I knew it would only lead to trouble. Trouble I very much wanted. “I’ve missed you, too,” I admitted in a moment of weakness.
“But you’re the one who ended it.” His brows pinched together.
My eyes acknowledged his statement, dropping to the floor briefly, as if to say, I know. Being near him, inhaling him, was a deadly combination. My body was responding to the maleness of his scent, my heartbeat ricocheting off the walls of my chest, making my breath come out in soft pants.
“You’re sending me all kinds of mixed signals, kitten.” His eyes fell to my chest where my nipples had hardened into pebbles. I dropped my head, but his index finger lifted my chin until I met his eyes once again. “You have no idea how badly I’ve missed you,” he growled, lightly nipping at my neck. “Let me show you. Let me make it up to you . . .” I released a soft groan. “I need to be inside you.”
“Not here,” I moaned.
His eyes rose to mine. “Your place. We’ll grab a cab.”
I nodded my consent and he grabbed my hand to tow me from the office; we weaved our way through the throngs of mingling bodies when I stopped suddenly. “Wait . . .”
He stopped suddenly. “What?”
I looked longingly at the buffet table. “I didn’t get to try any of the yummy things over there. . . .”
He chuckled beside me, his posture immediately relaxing. “Give me one sec.” He kissed my cheek and then rushed over to the tuxedo-clad attendant restocking napkins at the buffet. Within minutes he was handed a large brown paper bag that I could only assume was filled with to-go treats. My hero.
My smile widened as he approached, the bag clutched in his hands. “Now we’re ready. No more stalling.” He grabbed my hand and all but hauled me out the door.
Once we reached my apartment, Braydon gathered the plates and silverware from the kitchen while I unpacked the sack of treats on my small dining table. We ate and laughed and caught up about the past several weeks, avoiding any heavy topics. It was crazy how easily we could fall back into our old routine. I knew there was a big conversation we still needed to have—about where we stood—but even I seemed reluctant to start it. This felt too good and I wasn’t ready to ruin it.
“Are you going to finish that slice of cheesecake?” He looked longingly at my plate.
“Every last bite,” I confirmed, grinning wickedly as I shoved a big piece of the cake into my mouth. “But . . .” I pulled the last container from the bag. “There’s another slice, and I’ll split it with you if you make coffee.”
“Deal.”
I loved that I could be myself with him. I’d forgotten how easy we were together. Like two old friends who taunted and teased each other endlessly, and of course had great sex, too. My stomach flipped at the thought. I wouldn’t be giving in to him tonight. Couldn’t.
After our meal, we washed the dishes and then settled in the living room. The conversation soon died down and a comfortable silence settled in around us. A steaming mug of coffee, a belly full of cheesecake, and Braydon back in my life. Things were good. Maybe we could do this—even if it was just as friends. Things felt too natural, too easy with him, and I didn’t want to lose that.