Page 34 of The Deadbeat DILF
And he had kissed me back, so gently and tenderly.
But what would happen when he woke up? Would he say it was a mistake?
Carefully, I untangled myself from his arms and slipped out of bed. There was no point dwelling on what-ifs. I had to get ready for work.
I headed into my ensuite bathroom and took a long shower, washing away all the sadness and stress from the previous evening. I’d have to deal with my family eventually, but for now, I wanted to focus on the positive memories. Robert had known exactly what to do and say to make me feel okay again. I couldn’thelp but smile, fuzzy, warm feelings filling my stomach, as I applied my skincare and did my makeup.
When I walked back into the bedroom, though, my smile immediately faded. The bed was empty and neatly made. I wandered around the rest of my apartment, but there was no sign of him. He had already left for work.
Maybe it was for the best. Neither of us had time for an important conversation.
I made myself some coffee, then hurried to Ashcroft, making it there just in time. I threw myself into work, but after a few hours, my mind started to wander.
I hadn’t experienced anything like last night before. It hadn’t been just sexual. Previous boyfriends would make out just to get to the good part, but Robert had kissed me like he’d been craving it. It had been sweet, but also passionate.
When we lay in bed together… it was like we were connected. I felt like he really understood me. That it wasn’t just surface-level attraction, but that he saw into my mind, into my fears and insecurities. Then he had held me and made me feel safe. Like my family’s harsh words couldn’t reach me once I was under his protection.
During lunch, my coworkers made small talk in the shared kitchen. I stabbed at my Caesar salad with a fork, trying not to replay last night’s memories for the fiftieth time.
“Brooke.”
“Huh?” I looked up, blinking.
Ashley gave me a smile. “Lost in thought, huh? I was asking you about your weekend.”
“Oh,” I said. “Same old, same old. I saw my family.”
“That would’ve been nice,” she said, then laughed at my expression. “I get it. They can be annoying as hell, but you gotta love ‘em.”
I forced a chuckle. “Right,” I said.
Everyone complained about their family, but usually it was things like ‘my mom buys me clothes I don’t need’ or ‘my dad doesn’t know how to use apps’ or ‘my aunt keeps on asking when I’m going to get married’.
It was different with my family.
Ashley, sensing I wasn’t very talkative, walked over to a group of associates who were discussing their vacation plans. Some were going skiing in the winter of visiting Europe. I wouldn’t have minded travelling during the holidays, but the prospect wasn’t that exciting when I didn’t have anyone to share it with. Sometimes I’d traveled with Alison and Emilia, but both of them were spending Christmas break with their families.
Soon, lunch ended, and I was back in my office, reading through emails and having phone calls with clients. It came as a shock when I checked the time and saw it was the end of the workday. I packed up and left the office, feeling a surprising amount of anticipation.
Sure, Robert and I had a lot to talk about, but I couldn’t wait to see him. I wanted to hear his voice, see his easy grin.
Once I arrived at the front door of my apartment, my stomach twisted with nervousness. I unlocked the door and heard noise coming from the kitchen.
He was already home.
I found him in the kitchen, and when our gazes met, he seemed to hesitate for a millisecond before smiling. “Hey. I got pizza. I hope that’s okay with you.” He gestured to two large pizza boxes from a local restaurant, stacked on the kitchen counter.
I set down my handbag. “I’d be psychotic if pizza wasn’t okay with me.”
His shoulders relaxed. “I’ll bring it out to the dining table.”
“I’ve got some red wine, if you want it,” I said, pointing to the cupboard where my wine bottles were stored.
I went into my bedroom and changed out of my work clothes into comfortable yoga pants and a sweater. When I returned to the living room, I found Robert sitting at the dining table, the boxes open. The delicious smell of wood-fired oven-baked pizza wafted in the air. He had also poured us both a glass of wine.
“I got Margherita and meat lovers,” he said, gesturing for me to take a slice after I sat down opposite him.
“These are big,” I said, taking a slice of the Margherita, which was made with fresh basil leaves. “Usually, I have a pizza to share.”
