Page 42 of One Night Forsaken

No romance. Just fun.

“A movie would be fun,” I say. His eyes widen with surprise. “But it’s not a good idea.” His shoulders cave forward. “Sorry.”

He takes a step and Ifeelhis retreat more than see it. And damn, it is a knife to the heart.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have.” Another step back. “Talk to you later.”

Before I get another word out, he all but runs across the dining room, sits at the farthest table, and aims his back toward me. I stare after him. Watch as he futzes around on his phone. Mentally berate myself for allowing things to get this far.

I should have left it where it was—one night. I should have sucked it up and stuck to my guns while he was in town. Instead, I kissed him outside of Trixie’s. I initiated this whole fiasco. And it will be me who cuts it off. It will be me who hurts him.

CHAPTER15

BRAYDON

Icut the engine and glance up the stairwell that leads to Alessandra’s front door.

“WhatamI doing?” I mutter.

Yesterday, Alessandra put me back in my place. Reminded me of who we are. What we are. Where we stand. Yes, we’ve had mind-blowing sex the last five nights. But we will never be more than two people using each other. A fact I need to carve into my brain and remember.

Tonight and tomorrow night. Then you won’t see her again.

I scoop up the bag from the passenger seat and second-guess if buying us dinner was a good idea. Whether or not she eats it, that is up to her.

Exiting the car, I lock it and make my trek up the stairs. The memory of last night, of me taking these stairs, flashes in my mind’s eye. How it took me an additional few minutes to make the small journey. How I questioned whether or not seeing her again at all was a good idea. Hell, tonight I still question if I am making the right choice.

Probably not, but I don’t want to turn back.

At the top of the stairs, I lift a hand and rap my knuckles on the grain. Quiet surrounds me for two breaths before I hear the security chain scrape and dead bolt disengage. The door swings open and a smiley Alessandra stands an arm’s length away.

“Hey.” She glances down to the bag. “Food?”

“Yeah. Didn’t have time to eat before heading over.”

Partial truth. We never agreed for me to come over at a certain time. But if I wanted any time with her, I had to arrive before the sun sank beneath the horizon.

She steps aside. “Come in. Smells like you brought tostadas.”

I wave the bag as I step inside and toe off my shoes. “Indeed. Hope you’re hungry.”

We move to the small table between the kitchen and living room. I remove the food from the bag while she goes to the kitchen and fills two glasses with ice water. She sets the glasses on the table and takes a seat. Silence stretches between us as we open the boxes and take the first bites of our dinner.

The moment feels so normal. Easy. Domesticated. Comfortable. I love how effortless it is to sit in her company. How painless it is to exist alongside her.

“How much do I owe you for dinner?”

And just like that, my thoughts from seconds ago fade away. Because no matter how easy things are between us, Alessandra will never be more than a borderline friend with benefits.

I lift the bottle to my lips and down half the contents. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dinner passes in awkward silence and shoptalk as we eat. It feels static, clinical, cold. We clear the table and toss the recyclables in the bin. As we exit the kitchen, I open my mouth to say I should go back to my room at the bed-and-breakfast.

But as the words form on my tongue, her fingers dance down my spine. I stop moving, stop breathing, stop thinking. All I do is feel. Not just the warmth from her touch but also the buzz under my skin.

I should go. I should walk out the door now and not come back. But, of course, I choose to stay.

Like every other night I’ve walked up those stairs and stepped in her home, I let her lead me to the bedroom. Let her give me another dose of her addictive high. Let her take control—of not just my body but also my heart.

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