Page 55 of Second-Rate Superstar

Leading us to a workstation where we’d be peeling potatoes, she handed us both aprons before pointing out the sink to wash our hands. When we returned to the stainless steel table, a giant bowl of potatoes was waiting, with empty bowls to put the peeled ones that other volunteers would take to be boiled before mashing.

Donning the apron, Braxton rolled up the sleeves of his sweater before getting right to work. I got caught up in watching how he moved with practiced ease, gliding the peeler in even strokes along the potato before dropping it into an empty bowl.

Sensing my eyes on him, he turned, flashing me a smile. “Enjoying the show? I thought you came here to help.”

Blushing, I avoided his gaze, instead fumbling with my apron strings. Setting about peeling my first potato, I remarked, “This isn’t your first time, is it?”

I caught the shake of his head from the corner of my eye as he answered, “No. I’ve been coming since I arrived in Hartford. This is my fifth Thanksgiving.”

Turning to face him, my potato forgotten, I asked, “Do you know how much these meals mean to those who need them?”

Braxton tilted his head. “I have some idea. Most are quiet, but a few are overly expressive in their gratitude.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t feel like enough. I can tell many of them are homeless, and I wish I could do more.”

The breath froze in my lungs at his words. He wasn’t doing this for publicity. He genuinely cared.

Quietly, I said, “To them, this meal iseverything.”

“Yeah?” One of his dark eyebrows rose.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. Taking a deep breath, I offered a piece of myself—one I’d only shared with Bristol. “My mom, she was too proud to take the help of others.” Braxton’s amber eyes held mine, imploring me to continue, so I did. “Things were rough after my dad . . .” I couldn’t finish that sentence, and God bless him, Braxton didn’t press me to. “Anyway, we scraped by but went without a lot of luxuries. A big Thanksgiving dinner was never in the cards. Maybe that’s why I like the meal I brought to Natalie so much. It was close enough to the real deal that I didn’t miss it. So, if you ever think this isn’t enough, just know it is and more.”

Wiping his hands on a towel, he reached up to cup my cheek, and I let him. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

He had no idea that my walls were crumbling. Or maybe he did, and that’s why he was so gentle with me now.

I couldn’t help but wonder if my mom was watching on. Or if, perhaps, she’d placed me directly into Braxton’s path, knowing he would be the oneto defy expectations, the one who would patiently wait to make it past my prickly exterior.

I barely knew him, but something told me that what we shared—even limited as it was—wasn’t typical. Bristol had brought plenty of guys home over the years before shacking up with Nix, and most of them had been after one thing and one thing only—sex. Braxton was genuine, taking his time getting to know me, even as I pushed him away. Sure, he had those flashes of flirtation, but they were always light-hearted. I never felt pressured to give him something more, something I wasn’t ready for.

Braxton Slate might very well be the real deal. And God, if that didn’t scare the living daylights out of me.

Arriving at the Slate residence, Braxton parked at the end of a long line of luxury cars lining the driveway. Nervously, I wiped my palms against the dark denim of my jeans as he rounded the hood and opened the door for me. Taking my hand, he helped me out of the vehicle before searching my eyes.

It must have been evident that I was apprehensive walking into a gathering where I was the outsider, so he gave a reassuring squeeze, reaching up with his free hand to tuck the curls framing my face behind my ear.

He smiled at me as his soothing voice offered comfort. “It’s just friends, remember? And if at any point you become uncomfortable, say the word, and we’ll leave. I mean it.”

Dropping my gaze, I gave a slight nod, releasing his hand to reach into the backseat to grab the small cooler with my offering for the meal.

My anxiety shot through the roof when Braxton gestured toward the double front doors of the massive home. Taking a tentative step forward, I was wound so tightly that when he placed a hand at the small of my back, I jumped, mumbling a quick, “Sorry” when his brows drew down in concern.

Braxton rapped his knuckles against the giant doors but didn’t wait for a response before turning the knob and ushering me inside.

I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the palpable warmth audible from the entryway. Laughter and love hung in the air, settling over me like a weighted blanket, easing any fears of my presence being an intrusion on this friend group.

“Come on.” Braxton latched the door behind us, guiding me closer to where the voices sounded, several conversations layering over each other.

Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I calmed my racing heart as the family room, filled with smiling faces, came into view.

Hannah spied our arrival first, calling out, “My naughty new bestie is here!”

All heads turned in our direction, and the heat creeping onto my cheeks blazed like an inferno. I only recognized a few faces, and Hannah ensured I made a hell of a first impression.

She ran over to hug me, her blond giant of a man trailing. Pulling back, she smirked at Braxton, remarking, “Well done.”

Shuffling his feet beside me, I couldn’t spare him more than a glance before Hannah took my hand, tugging me toward her man. “Dakota, meet Cal.”

Smiling lovingly at Hannah, he offered his hand to shake. “It’s nice to formally meet you, Dakota. Allow me to apologize again for her behavior at the spa. She gets a little unruly from time to time.”

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