Page 28 of The Swiping Game
10
DEAN
“Looking good today,Mr. Braxton. You didn’t dress up just for me, did you?”
I turn on my smile as I walk into the Fury offices, Betty already in rare form.
“How’s my favorite girl doing?” I ask, leaning over to hand her the coffee I picked up for her when I got one for Tara. And of course, I brought donuts. Today is definitely a donut day.
“I’ll let you know when I see her.”
“Excuse me?”
Betty takes the coffee from me while simultaneously looking at me like I’m an idiot. “Don’t play dumb with me. You might use those lines on me, but I know they’re really meant for Tara. You got a thing for her, and you do a piss-poor job of hiding it.”
I give my head a shake, because frankly, I didn’t think it was that obvious. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, dear boy. You don’t even see it, do you?” Betty says between sips of coffee. “The way you two fight? It’s like me and my second husband. We fought until we tore each other’s clothes off. It’s how both of my kids were made.”
I blink my eyes a few times. Betty is one hundred percent right. I might not have realized it before the dating app, but we’ve always been on a course bound where it was going to either end with us fucking or fighting.
And I sure know which one I’d rather do.
Now I’m even more confident with my decision that today’s the day I’m going to tell her that I’m James. That I’m the one she’s been talking to for the past week.
How it’s going to happen? I have no idea. I thought about asking her out for a drink after her day was done, but that would require her saying yes to me as Dean, and based on our history, she’d rather go for a drink with literally anyone else than me.
I thought about writing her a letter and handing it to her with her coffee. Then I was afraid that she’d light it on fire and throw it on me.
I even considered asking her out as James, but that felt even worse than lying to her this past week. No. The next time we talk, it’s not going to be as James.
I don’t know how this is going to happen. I just know I can’t go another day without her knowing who I am. After last night, I have to tell her. I can still hear her moans in my ear. I can still picture her body coming undone, and I wasn’t even there to see it.
All I could think that entire time was that I want this. For real. I want to fucking kill her douchebag of an ex-husband. You bet your ass the first thing I’m doing once she knows who I am is tracking his ass down and making him pay for every fucking thing he’s put her through. I want to take away every worry she has. I want to take her to that cabin in the mountains and spend days getting lost in her. I want to bring her coffee and donuts every morning to see the smile on her face.
But will she want me when she finds out the truth? Or more specifically, how much is she going to hate me? Because I have a feeling this isn’t going to end well, even though I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen.
Betty slaps my hand, bringing me back from my thoughts. “What are you still doing standing here and gazing off like a schoolboy? Go up there, do your thing, and don’t come back until you got a date with that girl this weekend.”
I smile and give a little knock on her desk. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.”
As soon as I step on the elevator on my way up to the third floor, I feel a nervous ache in the pit of my stomach. At least that’s what I think it is. I’ve never felt this way before. Not when I went to law school. Not the day I took the bar exam. Not even when I negotiated a contract on my own for the first time.
But something about telling the woman I’m falling for that I’ve been lying to her is enough to make me a ball of nerves.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I hurry and grab it to see that it’s Tara.
Tara: Woke up with a smile on my face. Thank you for last night. Have a good day!
I quickly look and see that the elevator is just about to stop on the third floor, so I hurry and type a quick reply, making sure it’s sent before I exit. Yes, I could be on my phone when I exit the elevator. That wouldn’t be unusual. But typing my response in front of her while knowing I have to come clean about everything just doesn’t sit right with me.
As soon as the doors open, all I see is Tara. She’s sitting at her desk, reading the message I just sent with the biggest smile on her face. I want to freeze this moment in time, knowing thatImade her smile that way.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” I ask, knowing I need to keep the normal Dean-Tara dynamic going, at least for now.
She snaps her gaze up to me as I approach her desk. “How do you know I’m talking to a guy?”
