Page 17 of I've Got You

“Eating so much cake or the good stuff”—I indicated the pastry—“that it would stop me from having room for more.”

His eyes roamed my chest and traveled lower. I ignored the heat spreading across my chest under his scrutiny. “You must have amazing self-control, or you work out all the time.”

I snorted, relieved there was no salacious undercurrent to his tone. He was simply making an observation. Admittedly, I liked to think he’d eyed me with some appreciation. “The latter. Sort of. Cake is kryptonite.”

He chuckled. “Death by cake would be an interesting way to go, I suppose.”

“It sure would. Okay, what’s next?” I took a couple of sips of my wine, ignoring the sharpness after the sweetness of the pear.

Humor creased Davis’s brow as he gathered the next treat.

We spent the next thirty minutes sampling Davis’s creations, drinking wine, and chatting about nothing that required thought, and specifically nothing personal. While I was all too aware of the safe topics, I appreciated every one and eased into each conversation happily.

“Shit. I think I’ve broken you,” Davis said with a laugh as he eyed me up and down.

I was angling back on the stool, and if it hadn’t had a backrest, I would have fallen on my ass. My stomach was chockful of sugar and wine. “Apparently,” I said, exhaling, “you have. You’re not going to tell me you’re my nemesis, are you? It’s quite nice being on the same team.” I clamped my mouth shut, and heat hit my cheeks. I chose to ignore the look of amusement on Davis’s face and moved on quickly. “Thanks for tonight, and for this.” I paused, meeting his deep brown eyes. “It was… unexpected, so thank you.”

Davis grinned. “My pleasure.”

“Listen, I’d better—”

“What are you—”

We both started speaking at the same time. “Sorry.” I smiled widely. “You first.”

Davis angled back a little, appearing casual and comfortable. I envied his ease. “What are you doing the rest of this week?”

My eyes widened in surprise. Was he asking because he was interested in seeing me, or was he being polite? The idea of the first sent tingles to my skin. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything like it. “Ah…” I cleared my throat. “To be honest, not much.”

He bit his top lip and sucked it in just a little, his brows dipping. “The job thing, right? You’ve still not made up your mind?”

I shook my head. Unlike every other time I thought about my work situation, whether I should return, quit, or even leave the town for good, I didn’t feel the usual pit of dread in my gut. I had nothing and nobody to stay for, but since my life had blown up, there was nowhere else I’d rather be. “Not yet, no. I will, I need to… make up my mind, that is. I just have some shit to figure out first.”

“That makes sense.” A flash of seriousness crossed his face, his tone losing the lightness when he said, “I don’t think you’re ready to talk about what happened between us”—my face caught fire, shouting my answer loud and clear—“and that’s okay. It’s a lot. My own sexuality was a mindfuck, and trying to explain to others I’m bi and shooting down all the stupid-as-shit stereotypes that come with it is exhausting.”

He was bi. While I’d figured that out or had assumed as much, it felt different hearing it for his truth. Relief swept through me. Knowing he had a child had admittedly left my mind reeling when I considered the heat of our kiss at Carter’s housewarming. Having Davis confirm he was into men and what we’d shared wasn’t a mistake—I damn well hoped not, anyway—tore away a heavy weight that had set on my chest. I could breathe a little easier and actually found a real smile curving my lips as he continued.

“What I’m saying is I really do get it, and I do think we need to talk about what happened, but more than that, I’d like to see you again. You look like you could do with a friend.”

I was all in with his plan. I’d have time to overthink and freak out later. He held up his hand, though, as if he thought I’d challenge him in some way. I wondered what exactly he was thinking. “And this isn’t some sympathy shit.” I held back my grin as he continued. “It’s not like I’m drowning in buddies since moving here, and with Tanner… well, you know he and Carter are inseparable, so yeah, next week, stop by here and I’ll take a break and we’ll have coffee.”

I widened my eyes and waited to see if he had more to say. I liked that he’d spoken so much, liked how while he didn’t appear at all nervous, he’d spoken more than necessary. When he laughed and shook his head and gestured for me to continue, I said, “Sounds good.” I stood. “Let me help you with the dishes, and I’ll get out of here.”

“I’ve got it.”

“You sure?” I stacked a few of the plates before he put his warm hand on my wrist, stopping me. Heat zipped up my arm from his touch. My eyes connected with his, and while nerves bubbled in my chest, anxiety wasn’t fighting its way to the surface.

“Honestly, please let me.” I released the plates and nodded, his palm moving away. “I’ll finish up in the morning.”

“Okay.” I backed up a step.

The room remained quiet a few moments, the only sound coming from the hum of the huge refrigerator. While I wasn’t uncomfortable, I had no idea of etiquette, overthinking every move, every gesture. All too aware of how ridiculous I was being didn’t exactly help the situation. It wasn’t even as though I could rationalize by comparing how I’d behaved over the years when I’d found myself in similar situations with women. There had never been a situation like this.

I’d had sex with a couple of women over the years—each time I’d been drunk. It had been sloppy, awkward, and had been the exact opposite of what I’d truly wanted to be doing. Living a lie took its toll, just like it had forced me into situations I hadn’t wanted to be in, and that included behaving like an arrogant prick, and worse, lashing out at Carter, the only openly gay man I’d ever worked with.

It was only right that my life had cracked right open after hurting him so badly.

“I’ve lost you again.” The soft, smooth voice of Davis filtered through me, and I focused on him.

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