“Welcome to Crave,” Reece says, lifting my hand to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“I do too.” My eyes wander over to Hale’s, and a rush of heat tingles low in my belly.
“Fuck.” Reece presses his earpiece to his ear, obviously listening to bad news. “There’s a woman at the front door saying she knows me.”
Hale shrugs. “What’s the problem? A lot of women in this city know you.”
“Yeah, but she says we grew up together, and I have a bad feeling about who it might be.”
“Let’s roll, brother. Do you need me?” Hale asks him.
I get the unmistakable feeling that he wants as far away from me as possible. And who could blame him? I just told him that I’m here with another man. But all I need is a few seconds to explain…
“No,” Reece says, his eyes wandering to mine and his expression softening. “You stay here and entertain your friend.” Reece stalks off, but I hear him call dibs, to which Hale mutters a low curse under his breath. It’s so interesting seeing this side of him—in his club, with his male friend.
I merely stand here, taking it all in and trying to piece everything together.
Hale finally turns to face me again. “I don’t know what to say, Brielle. I don’t understand why you’re here.”
“I got the file you left for me.”
“And what…you just show up here? No phone call, no text, nothing for days.”
“I wanted to show you that I’m here. You, this lifestyle, it doesn’t scare me.”
He nods once, his expression stern. “And Kirby?”
“I told him everything. About me and you. About the feelings I had for him.”
He picks up a glass of whiskey from the table and downs the remainder of his drink.
“I told him I once wished for a future with him, but not anymore. I’ve grown. I’ve changed, and I want different things now.”
“What kind of things?”
I shrug, playing innocent. “Things that a Dom demands of his sub.”
“I’ve been drinking, Brielle,” he warns, his tone low.
“I don’t care.” I gesture to the chairs that he and Reece vacated. “Can we sit down for a minute and talk?”
He takes my hand and guides me to the plush leather armchair, sitting down across from me.
“Why did you show me all of that?” I ask.
“Because that’s me. That was everything. My past, the losses and pain I’ve experienced, it’s made me the man that I am, and I don’t share that with people, but I was worried that you’d fallen for the Gentleman Mentor. It’s happened before,” he adds with a faraway look in his eyes, and I know there’s a story there I’ll be digging into later.
“I needed you to see the real me,” he says, “warts and all, and decide if I was what you wanted. I want to keep you for myself, leave all that shit, the mentoring behind. I want you. But I wasn’t sure you even knew what you wanted. You’d held on to that fantasy of you and Kirby for so long that—” He shakes his head, looking down into his empty glass.
I place my hand on his knee. I’ve never seen Hale like this. He’s vulnerable and exposed in a way he’s never been before, and it scares me, but I like it.
“I didn’t fall for the Gentleman Mentor. I fell for you. I fell for the careful way you lifted my hair from my neck to kiss that sensitive spot below my ear. The feeling of your lips at my temple, the sweet and wicked things you whispered to give me the confidence I needed to soar. I fell for the sexy, disciplined control you maintain, the sweet way you are with your nana, all the real stuff that makes you you.”
His gaze softens and latches onto mine. “I wasn’t as good as I thought at hiding myself from you.”
I shrug. “Not even a little bit.” We’re silent for a few minutes, each happy to drink in the other’s presence. “You didn’t have to return the money,” I finally add.
“I didn’t feel right keeping it.” He leans closer. “Would you like a tour of the club?”
Eagerly, I nod. “Unless we’re going to run into any of your old girlfriends.”
“I haven’t dated in years, Brielle. I thought you knew that.”
“I guess there’s still a lot I’m fuzzy on.”
“Let me clear a few things up for you. Come with me.” He rises to his feet and offers me his hand.
As we exit the lounge via a back hallway, I snag a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, knowing I very well might need a dose of liquid courage.