Page 27 of Beauty Of Her

“Date? I think I could handle that right now.” Brett leaned back against the wall, his arms still crossed over his chest.

I moved closer until my body pressed against the counter’s chilled glass, the smell of fresh meat and his sweet cologne making me dizzy with desire. “Exactly,” I breathed. “It’s a chance for us to explore this thing between us and see where it goes.”

Brett let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You know what, Julia? You’re intense as hell. But I like that about you.” He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning mine. “Let me think about it, and I’ll let you know.”

My heart lurched, and my stomach twisted. One thing I wasn’t prepared for was rejection, and a rush of shameful heat flooded my cheeks, sending my skin to a new scorched level. “Oh. Okay.” I shook off the disappointment. “Yeah, that’s totally fine.” I stumbled two steps away from the counter.

“Are you sure?” Brett raised an eyebrow.

“Completely.” I waved my hand in the air and kept walking away. “Well, I guess I’ll speak to you soon.”

“Do you need anything for the girls?” Brett pointed to the display.

“Nah. I think I’ll be lazy and pick up a pizza.” I paused mid-step. “Well, bye!” I threw a final awkward wave in the air and bolted from the market with a final vision of Brett tossing a puzzled smirk in my direction. I jogged to my car, opened the driver’s door, and locked myself in. I threw my head into my hands, panting. How embarrassing! But what did I expect, really? Was this Brett’s payback for now being the one to fuck with my head? I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t handle the unknown in relationships. This was torture, and I was a complete mess. I reminded myself to practice my breathing exercises when hot tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. Who was I even kidding? If Brett agreed to come with me to Miami, how would I introduce him to colleagues? None of this had been thought through, and I probably wouldn’t need to. He was going to turn me down. I just knew it.

My phone buzzed in my purse, breaking me from my spiraling mind. I whipped out my cell, and it was a message from Brett. I barely knew the guy, but already, he had affected my life. I opened his text and read what I never saw coming.

Brett

When do we leave for the Sunshine State? Oh, and I call dibs on the window seat.

As crazy as it sounded, when Julia called me out on my bullshit whining—something no one ever did—I couldn’t say no to Miami. It was like the sudden rush to prove her wrong, and that I wasn’t some immature prick, took over my body and thrust me into accepting her request. Maybe I needed the push, too. It was one of the best choices I had made recently.

The women in my life never had the upper hand. I always held that torch, summoning them when to come and go. I had already declared it a million times, but Julia quickly became a rare find. She kept me on my toes and challenged me. And the last part, I fucking loved. That was what it was about her. She wasn’t like the rest of them. Not even close.

I was actually doing this. In an hour, Julia and I would be on our way to the airport and off to Florida for a weekend of who knew what. I mean, I wasn’t going to act naive and think no sex. All I could think about was the way Julia moaned during an orgasm and how she clung to me as she descended from her high. I’d be lying if the moment didn’t make me feel powerful, but I felt just as needy in her arms. Everything with Julia was just different from what I had experienced. And if things with Julia progressed, I’d have to come clean about my past. Yes, I had told Julia I never had a serious relationship, but that wasn’t entirely true. My time with Libby was a whirlwind of me placating all the important women to me, steering me toward the biggest bender of my life. Once I was free of Libby, I had sex with anyone who ignited the tiniest of flames in my dick.

I zipped my luggage and threw it near the front door, making last-minute checks before I left my apartment. I was on a mission to get out of here any second when the buzzer broke the peace. Air hissed out of my nostrils, and I pressed the white button a tad too hard.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Mom. Can I come up?”

My face twisted, and I mouthed, “the fuck?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” I pressed the buzzer and waited. What the hell was Mom doing here? She always operated with good intentions, but sometimes, they were laced with a thinly veiled motive. When I opened the door to let Mom in, my senses and appetite went into overdrive when I spotted the bag. She was carrying a clear plastic bag with that unmistakable scent of freshly baked pastry wafting through the air. I leaned in, inhaled deeply, and my stomach growled. Amid rush packing, I forgot to eat.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” My heart rate had just about tripled. Had Mom found out about Julia before I could tell her? Only Bridgette knew every detail, but there was no way she’d go behind my back and spill those facts to Mom.

“Oh… I just wanted to drop this off before you left for your trip.” Mom handed me the bag of warm pastries. The croissant crumpled when I squeezed it with too much force, releasing the intoxicating aroma of caramelized sugar and butter.

I made one last attempt at dodging any further uncomfortable conversation by diving into the bag for another. My stomach was having none of my scheme. Despite its gurgling, I forced a token of appreciation from my lips.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said with a mouthful of carbs while glancing at the clock. “But can I eat this at the airport? Wouldn’t want to miss the flight.”

Mom frowned and shook her head. “Hold on. There’s something I need to ask you first.” She stuffed her hands into the front pockets of her heather gray cashmere cardigan, looking all innocent and the concerned mother, but deep down, I knew there was a simmering devil about to unleash on my ass. “You’ve been secretive over this trip. I am a little disappointed because the holiday orders are starting to come in. But aside from the poor timing of taking a getaway now, can you please tell me who you’re going with?”

“None of your business.” I packed the bag of pastries and tossed them onto the table with no intention of taking them now that the interrogation had commenced.

“I’m your mother. Anything having to do with you is my business.” Mom pressed her manicured nails to her chest, clutching her heart.

I stared at Mom’s bright saucers and understood I had two choices. I could set the tone for this new endeavor with Julia bathed with upfront honesty, or I could dance around the truth with Mom until it morphed into a permanent band of tension. “Julia and I are going away for a weekend.”

Mom’s eyes bulged, and her jaw dropped to the floor. “Is that the woman from the market?”

“She’s incredible.” Just to say it aloud to Mom created a newfound sense of freedom I wanted to grab onto.

“She’s older.”

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