Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance (7 page)

There’s no traffic, so I get home in about fifteen minutes. I go inside and change out of my work clothes, putting on my too-short yoga pants and a t-shirt. And new panties, because yes, my thong is no longer wearable. Downstairs, I pour myself a glass of wine and sit down on the couch. My heart rate returned to normal on the drive home, but I still have an uncomfortable pressure between my legs. I take a sip of the Cabernet. Hopefully the wine will help me calm down.

I grab my phone and bring up Kylie’s number. I really need to talk to her.

“What’s up?” she says when she answers.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Uh oh,” she says. “Do you need me to come over?”

“You don’t have to,” I say. “But do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says. “What’s going on? Did something happen with Aidan?”

I hear my brother say something in the background, and I hope I didn’t interrupt them. I know they’re still newlyweds and everything, but
ew
.

“No, it’s not about Aidan. Not really.” I take a deep breath. “You know how I told you my company has a new owner and things are weird at work?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there’s something else I didn’t tell you. My new boss is a guy named Ronan Maddox. I worked with him about five years ago, but he moved to San Francisco.”

“Okay…”

I put my hand on my forehead. “So I kind of slept with him on his last night here, before he moved.”

“Wait,” Kylie says. “You hooked up with this Ronan guy five years ago, and now he owns your company?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Selene, that’s awkward,” she says. “Is it weird?”

“Kind of?” I say. “He fluctuates between being completely professional, and hard-core hitting on me.”

“Your boss is hitting on you?” she asks. “That’s not good.”

I sink back against the couch cushions. “I know.”

“Selene,” she says, her voice serious. “You aren’t actually thinking about letting something happen with him, are you?”

“No, I…” I let out a breath. Damn it, that’s exactly what I’m thinking. I called Kylie because I know she’ll talk me out of it, but now I’m not so sure I want her to. “I’ve been very clear with him that there is no way. I even set out ground rules and he agreed to them.”

“Good for you,” she says. “You have to set boundaries with this guy, especially if he’s asshole enough to hit on you at work.”

“I know,” I say. That is bad, isn’t it? “Ky, the man literally told me he wants to fuck me on top of his desk. Can you imagine?”

“Holy shit,” she says with a laugh. “You need to steer clear of him, do you hear me? A man like that is everything you do not need in your life. You need a good guy, not another bad boy, remember?”

“You’re right.” I take another deep breath. “And besides, I’m seeing Aidan on Friday at his place. He’s going to cook me dinner.”

“See? There you go,” Kylie says. “Aidan to the rescue.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Stop it, Selene,” she says.

“Stop what? What am I doing?”

“You’re trying to find a reason that something might work with Ronan,” she says. “I can hear it in your voice.”

I hear Braxton in the background. “Tell her to stay the fuck away from him, and if he messes with her I’ll break his face.”

I laugh. If you look up the word
overprotective
in the dictionary, there’s a picture of my brother.

“I’m not trying to find a reason,” I say.
Keep telling yourself that, Selene, and maybe it will start to be true.
“He’s just throwing me off.”

Kylie lowers her voice, like she doesn’t want Braxton to hear. “He was that good, huh?”

“God, Ky, the sex was off the charts,” I say. “There’s a reason I remember it so well.”

“What happened after you slept with him?”

I wince. “He blew me off.”

“Fuck him, then,” Kylie says, emphatic. “No, not literally. Don’t fuck him. God, Selene—you’re dating someone else, and Ronan is your boss. Those are two very good reasons to get him out of your head. Add in the fact that you’ve been there, done that, got the shitty t-shirt. I don’t care how magical his cock is. That is not what you need.”

“I know,” I say. “You’re right. You’re completely right.”

“Is your vibrator broken or something?” she asks. “It sounds like you need to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you, Miss Squeamish about getting herself off,” I say with a laugh.

“Don’t mess with me, babe, or I’ll start telling you why I haven’t needed a vibrator since … oh I don’t know, since your brother started fucking me last year.”

Braxton laughs in the background.

“Somehow, I’m going to make you pay for that remark,” I say. “Hanging up now.”

I hit
End
and toss my phone on the couch next to me, then take another big drink of wine. I need the rest of the bottle to get the image of Kylie and my brother out of my head.

***

On the drive to Aidan’s house Friday after work, I’m so tense my neck hurts. I shouldn’t be this nervous for a date, especially since it’s a guy I’ve been seeing for a while. It’s not the good kind of nervous, either—the kind where you’re so excited to see him, you have butterflies. My stomach is in knots, and I’m filled with a sense of dread.

Ronan was all business today, as if nothing happened last night. Although, technically, nothing did happen. Other than he made me question every boundary I’ve ever set at work. I was relieved that he didn’t try to touch me or get in my personal space again. As stressed as I am about this date with Aidan, I don’t think I could have handled it.

I park outside Aidan’s building and he buzzes me in. His condo is on the fourth floor in a nice, modern building a bit north of downtown. He meets me at the door and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“It’s good to see you,” he says. “I feel like I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear. I changed out of my work clothes, but decided not to dress up or dress sexy. I put on a light blue sweater and jeans, with wedge-heel sandals. Aidan is dressed casually—for him, anyway. He could have gone to work in the shirt and slacks he’s wearing.

He goes back into the kitchen and pours me a glass of wine.

“Thanks,” I say when he hands it to me.

“Dinner will be a few more minutes,” he says. “I can get out some cheese if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.” I hold up my glass. “I’m good with wine for now.”

He smiles as he stirs something on the stove. “Great. Make yourself at home.”

I wander out to his living room. He has music playing in the background—some sort of soft jazz that sounds like elevator music. He doesn’t have any personal photos displayed, just a few pieces of art on the walls. Landscapes. Boring ones.

God, Selene, quit judging him.

I take a seat on his dark gray couch and set my purse next to me.

“How are things at work?” he asks.

“Fine,” I say. “Just busy, mostly.”

“Is everyone adjusting to the new boss?”

I think about Ronan and my heart skips a little. “Yeah, everyone seems to be.”

“That’s good,” he says. “Any luck on the job search?”

I take a sip of wine. When I heard the company had been sold, my first thought was to get my resume out there. But I haven’t even updated it yet. “Not really. I haven’t been looking that hard.”

“You should, don’t you think?” he asks. “At least see what opportunities are out there.”

His comment shouldn’t irk me. I’m the one who said I was going to look for a new job. But I find myself biting back a sharp reply.

“Yeah, I will. I’ve just been busy.” I take another drink.

A timer dings.

“I think everything is just about ready,” he says. “Go ahead and have a seat at the table and I’ll bring it out.”

I sit at the round glass table, and he brings out two plates of chicken Parmesan. It does smell good. He sits down and offers me more wine, but I decline. My glass is still partially full, and I don’t want to drink much tonight.

We chat while we eat. He tells me a little about his day. He always talks about work. I wonder if he has any actual hobbies. There’s nothing in his condo that would indicate he does anything other than go to work and take me out to eat once in a while. No photos on the wall, or coffee table books that might show his interests. He has a thing for bad music, I know that much. At least he can cook, I suppose.

“Thank you,” I say when I finish. “This was really good. You’re a great cook.”

He smiles. “Thanks. I don’t do enough of it, to be honest.” He picks up his wine and takes a sip, his eyes never leaving mine.

He wants to have sex. I can see it. He’s looking at me differently. His posture is relaxed, one elbow resting on the table, but there’s tension in his face. He’s thinking about it right now, wondering how he’s going to bring it up. I see confidence in his eyes. He’s sure I’m going to say yes.

I sip my wine, and look down at my plate. I don’t want to sleep with him. For so long, I’ve been telling myself that I need to give Aidan a chance, that maybe if we take our relationship up a notch or three physically, I’ll feel more of a connection to him. But sitting here with him now, I know I won’t. I’ve tried to give Aidan a fair shot—he’s supposed to be the nice guy I need—but this relationship isn’t going anywhere.

I don’t want to think about the fact that this means Ronan was right.

“Dessert?” he asks.

I never have dessert with him. It isn’t that I don’t like dessert. I love sweet things. But by the time we finish dinner, I’m always ready to go. I feel the same way now—like I need an excuse to leave.

I open my mouth to reply, when my phone dings.

“I’m sorry.” My purse is still next to the couch, so I get up. “I thought I turned the sound off. Let me just check my messages really quick.”

“Of course,” he says.

I sit down on the edge of the couch and pull out my phone. I have a text from Ronan.
Need an excuse to get out of your date yet?

I have to stop myself from smiling. I should be annoyed, but fuck if his timing isn’t perfect.

“Sorry, Aidan,” I say. “I just need to answer this really quick.”

My date is going fine, thank you very much. We had a lovely dinner.

“No problem,” Aidan says. “I’ll just clean this up.” He takes our plates to the kitchen and turns on the sink.

Bullshit. You’re a caged animal, trying to find a way to open the locked door.

Just as I start to type, he sends another text.

I have the key.

I stifle a laugh and glance up at Aidan. He’s doing the dishes.

Hardly. I can leave anytime I want.

His response is quick.
Good. Meet me at that wine bar by the office in fifteen minutes.

No dating, Ronan.

Not a date. Same as two colleagues sharing a meal, but it’s wine.

I sigh.
We need to add a no drinking together rule.

Sorry, terms have been set. Should have brought that to the original negotiation.

I decide to fuck with Ronan a little.
Regardless, the terms of our agreement permit my date, including any other activities I choose to engage in with said date. I’ll see you Monday.

I look over at Aidan again. He smiles at me from the sink. I do need to leave, and I need to be honest with Aidan about why. But I’m not meeting Ronan tonight.

I put my phone away and walk into the kitchen. My stomach does another tumble, like it did on the drive over. There’s no easy way to do this, but I need to get it over with.

He turns off the water and raises his eyebrows, his face pleasant.

“Aidan, this dinner was really nice,” I say, “and you’re a very nice guy.”

His smile fades. “But?”

“But, I don’t think this is right for me,” I say. “Honestly, I wish it was. You have so much going for you, and when you meet the right woman I know you’re going to make her very happy.”

“Oh,” he says. “I guess I thought we were really hitting it off.”

“It’s not that you aren’t a nice guy.”

“You said that already,” he says. “I just don’t understand. I’ve been doing everything right, following the list.”

“What list?” I ask.

He glances away. “It’s nothing.”

“You have a list? What does that mean?”

“I follow a very well-respected author, and he provides a variety of helpful tools on his website.”

“Author of what?”

“He’s a self-help guru,” Aidan says. “He writes for a male audience, giving relationship advice.”

“So this whole time, everything you’ve done has been an item on a checklist? Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not kidding,” he says. “It’s a valid technique.”

“Valid technique? For what? What is this, some sort of list of steps to get a woman in bed?”

“Not exactly. Sex is just one part of the overall process.” He shakes his head. “Honestly, I’m baffled. You fit all the criteria from his quiz. I followed the checklist to the letter, and it was working perfectly.”

No wonder everything has felt so forced and clinical. He wasn’t trying to establish a solid base to build a lasting relationship. He was following a fucking checklist.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but it was not working perfectly.” I grab my purse and head for the front door.

“Selene, wait.”

“No,” I say. “Some online quiz is not going to magically produce the woman of your dreams. You can take your self-help moron and creepy checklist, and find someone who will fall for that bullshit. I’m sure she’s out there, but she sure as hell isn’t me.”

He says something else, but I’m out the door too quickly. He better not follow me. A quiz? Is he fucking kidding? Unbelievable.

I hurry out to my car and drive away. I have to circle around the block to get on a street that will take me home, and just the sight of his building sends a chill down my spine. God, to think I was actually trying to talk myself into sleeping with that guy. Is this what happens when you try to date a nice man? You wind up with a guy who can’t think for himself?