Page 45 of Wild Thing
I opened my eyes, our lips were so close to touching.
Please, please, please, just fucking kiss me.
Our intimate moment was interrupted by a shrill ringing.
Brax’s phone.
The moment shattered into a thousand pieces.
He dropped his hand from my face and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. He stared at it, unblinking, as if he was considering whether he should answer it or not.
I could tell by the way he hesitated that it was her.
His girlfriend.
“What’s her name?”
“Ally,” he answered. “I better take it.”
Brax turned away and stalked down the aisle to answer the call out of earshot. I remained where I was, struggling to contain the jealousy I felt towards the woman on the other end of the phone.
***
Stuck in traffic on the way to the convention center, I flicked through the paint samples and brochures of flooring options. It was futile though as my thoughts were dominated by Brax’s girlfriend.
Did she miss him? Were they arguing? What’s their relationship like? He said he was unhappy, but was he really?
I knew absolutely nothing about their relationship, but Brax somehow seemed to know everything about mine. It was a weak position to be in.
“What are you thinking?” Brax asked.
I blew out a long breath before answering. “If polished concrete or hardwood floors are more suitable for the downstairs area.”
He scoffed, as if that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
“What?" I dropped my eyes back to the brochures, skimming them again. “You don’t think either of those options will work? Why, what are you thinking?”
He clicked his jaw and dragged his hands down both sides of the steering wheel. “You’ve gotta stop asking me what I’m thinking.”
Shooting him an incredulous look, I shoved the brochures back inside my handbag, stationed between my feet on the floor. “Excuse me for valuing your opinion.”
“It’s not that, Dyl.”
“What is it then?”
“It’s you,” Brax snapped. “I can’t stop thinking about you. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about how I can see you. And then when I’m with you, it’s fucking torture because I can’t touch you.”
I blinked, startled. My mouth went completely dry as my heart raced with his brash admission.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly replied. “That was… I honestly don’t know what’s happening to me.”
He ran his hand through his hair, before dropping it into his lap. He frowned. At what, I wasn't sure. His vulnerability perhaps. I watched him for a moment, because honestly?
I didn’t know what was happening either.
This time, it was me reaching for his hand in his lap.
His gaze dropped to where my fingers were delicately wrapping around his. The invisible, but very much real, energy that charged between us was undeniable. There was something unseen that had complete control over us. Drawing us together.
