Keeping Her Close: A Slow Burn Standalone

by Casey Diam

  Something softened inside of him.

  “Max, sweetie, we’re going to pause your game for a second while we eat. We don’t want to get food on the remote, okay?” Jordan switched the channel to cartoons. “And just for the record, I don’t care what you say, Brandon. The next time we go out, I’m paying.” She took a bite out of a slice.

  Damn, she’s cute even when she’s eating.

  “When did we start going out?” he teased.

  Jordan smiled. “Touché.”

  They settled in to watch and eat in silence for a while.

  “Did you see that?” Max pointed at the screen in excitement. “The robot giant was running. It tripped over the building and crashed it to pieces, and then the bad guys are still running.”

  “Yes. That was so cool!” Jordan said.

  He smiled and shook his head because her attention had not been on the television. It had been on him.

  “Well, there goes my awesome workout and possibly my abs,” he said, biting into the last slice.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten a whole large pizza by yourself.” Jordan grinned. “And you almost finished a whole bottle of wine.”

  “What! No, I didn’t.” He picked up the bottle from the coffee table. “You drank this much,” he noted, pointing just above where the wine was currently in the bottle.

  “I did not!”

  Sometime after finishing her food, Jordan changed into pajama pants and a tank. He wished he could stay and cuddle with her. Cuddle? Jeez. Damian would crucify him. Something was wrong with him.

  He looked down to find Max asleep between them. “Can I take him to your bed?”

  Jordan nodded as Brandon stood, carefully lifting Max so as not to wake him.

  She smiled when he returned from placing her nephew in her room. “Thank you.”

  “He’s a fun kid. I like him,” Brandon said. “I haven’t interacted with kids in a while.”

  “I guess you’re a natural then.”

  A pang of sadness rippled in his chest. I had to be for little Rosie. Bending, he started to grab the pizza boxes.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Jordan reached out, touching his arm.

  Her touch produced goosebumps, and he looked up to find desire conspicuous in her eyes. “I got it,” he managed, his lengthening dick a little too hard to ignore. Keeping his groin out of sight, he followed her to the kitchen.

  “You know, you could always come to my house if you like,” he told her. “It gets lonely in that house by myself. I have five bedrooms, so you could even sleep over, and . . . it would only take you ten minutes to get to work instead of thirty.” Damn, don’t sound too desperate.

  She pulled out the hair tie holding her locks, and soft golden ringlets flowed over her shoulders. He found his hand lifting to touch them but caught himself in time.

  “I like your hair like that.”

  “Really? Doesn’t it look messy?” she asked, turning to him. “I always style it before I leave the house.”

  He laughed. “Messy is not the word I would use to describe it. Sexy . . . captivating, maybe.”

  “Really? My ex hated it. He always said ‘You need to do something with your hair. It’s everywhere!’” Jordan imitated.

  This was the first time she’d brought up her ex. She usually changed the subject whenever he tried to pry.

  “He’s an idiot.” Brandon could think of more than a few fulfilling ways to get her hair everywhere—like it tickling his balls as she wrapped her lips around him or swinging about her shoulders as she rode him.

  “You are actually a decent man. Guess I misjudged you.”

  If only she could hear his thoughts. “Is it because I called your ex an idiot?”

  “Yes. No. You are, though. You’re not the jerk I met about, what? Two weeks ago? Oh my gosh. Has it only been two weeks? That’s crazy. Anyway, I don’t know why you try to be that guy when you’re better at being a gentleman.”

  “Thank you.” Their eyes held. “Should I tuck you in, too, before I leave?”

  “Hey,” Jordan said, folding her arms across her chest. “What did I say about you being a decent man?”

  “But it would be the decent thing to do.” Brandon chuckled. “Unless I crossed the line by asking, of course.”

  “No.” She smiled. “I almost want to take you up on your offer.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “You find my offer tempting?”

  “I was joking. Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

  There was always an awkwardness when they said their goodbyes—like they didn’t know what was appropriate. So, he would give her a hug. But after their hug this time, he stopped the door with his foot before she closed it, because she was ready for him—at least, he hoped.

  “Actually, I need to ask you something.” She let him back inside. “Remember the first night I took you to dinner?”

  She pressed her thumb and index finger to her temple. “Oh no! What did I do? I knew I had too much to drink.”

  “That call you made to Adrianna—when I spoke to her, she told me you never drink that much, and you were probably just nervous because you liked me. Was that true?” He ignored the vibrating phone in his pocket.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” Jordan asked.

  “No. Are you trying to avoid my question? Like you always do when it has something to do with your feelings?”

  “Not like you’re all out and open with your feelings. I can’t believe she told you that.” Jordan chewed on her lip. “I assume she was trying to get us to sleep together, in accordance with her earlier advice to me regarding you.”

  “Since you’ve tried to ditch my question twice, I’m forced to assume you do like me, or just want to sleep with me. So which is it, Jordan?”

  Her cheeks flushed, and then she sighed. “I wouldn’t allow you to come here if I didn’t like you, but as a friend. As I said, you’re actually a cool person.”

  “As a friend,” he repeated dryly, knowing she had deliberately thrown that phrase in. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Nothing. Just, I’m not ready for . . . more.”

  He leaned against the door and studied her. Did she mean that, or was it just a defense mechanism?

  “I have two tickets to the Video Music Awards—great seats, by the way.”

  Her face lit up. “Really, how did you get those?”

  “Not important. What is important is that I’m asking you to go with me, but as more than a friend. Will you be my date?”

  He couldn’t read her face. She was either that good at hiding her emotions, or she sincerely wasn’t ready for more. In the latter case, it would make him an asshole for pushing.

  “Okay, but it’s going to be weird.”

  Brandon frowned. “What, me being your boyfriend?”

  “No, that’s even weirder.”

  Brandon shook his head and laughed. The last time he’d had a girlfriend, he was nineteen. “You’re right. That is weird.” Since when had a girlfriend even been an option?

  “Yeah, who says I’m going to want a second date?”

  “Let’s see . . . I’m handsome, charming, dependable, decent. You don’t know this yet, but I look good naked. I know how to make you smile, even as I frustrate you—kind of like you’re doing right now.”

  He moved closer and used a finger to sweep strands of hair away from her face. “Seriously, why wouldn’t you want a second date with me?”

  The strands were as silky as he’d imagined as he tucked them behind her ear. Jordan jerked back, and he smiled, enjoying the proof that he had the same effect on her as she had on him.

  “You have nothing to worry about. We’ll take it as slow as you like, I promise,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as his whole body tried to contest his declaration.

  “When is it?” she asked with a single swipe of her tongue along her lips.

  He was on edge. Something had shifted in the air, making him want to fuck
the daylights out of her. He had to get out of here and fast. When was the last time he’d even had sex? It must have been weeks, no wonder he was horny as fuck. And he just promised her he’d take it slow.

  You won’t last. Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove? You’re just going to hurt her. Better yet, she could hurt you. Remember Hailey? Kelly? They’re all the same. Don’t be stupid, his thoughts pressured, forcing his armor back into its rightful place.

  “I’ll text you,” he mumbled, retreating through the door.

  Jordan gave herself a onceover in the full-length mirror against the wall in her bedroom. The satin, mid-thigh, black dress she’d picked out for the event hugged her body. She turned around and peeked at the open-back silhouette and the multiple straps crisscrossing down to her lower back. Classy in front and sexy from behind. And if she decided it was too edgy later in the night, she could let her updo fall over her back to hide the revealing dress.

  As nerves crept up her spine, she found herself in the kitchen pouring a glass of wine. Brandon had been strange for the past week, only having met her once for lunch since he’d asked her out. It made her wonder what else he could be doing since he’d been spending so much time with her before that.

  After swallowing all the red wine in the glass, she strapped on black stilettos with gold heels and applied her red lipstick, then sprayed a warm, fruity perfume on her clothing, wrist, and neck to finish playing up her mood.

  A knock came from the door and the knot in her stomach took form again—and for a good reason:

  The fetching Brandon Kuvat.

  When she opened the door, his hair was styled away from his face, leaving his gorgeous features exposed for everyone to behold. He wore a three-piece, black suit, creatively mixing leather and fabric, and again no tie. He must hate wearing ties, as she’d never seen him in one. She stood only a couple inches shorter than him with her heels on, and as he moved closer, her body became aware of his closeness.

  His hand slid around her waist to the small of her back and his lips brushed across her cheek, “God, you’re gorgeous. How am I supposed to behave when you look this good and smell like something I could eat?”

  A simple touch, a simple compliment, and she was ready to submit.

  He stepped back but left his hand on her lower back. “Turn around.”

  She did as instructed.

  “Damn, I was wondering why I felt skin, and to think I was trying to keep a low profile tonight.” He moved closer to her from behind until the heat from his body scorched her. She shivered at the feel of him and he passed her a single red rose. She warmed from the inside out. Shrugging off his blazer, he placed it over her shoulders. “There’s a bit of a chill outside.”

  She had to be dreaming. Brandon was more than a gentleman. He was charming beyond words.

  “Thank you,” she said, turning to face him as her insides did backflips and jumping jacks. He had on a short-sleeved, black shirt that looked like it was tailored to fit his sculpted body, especially his biceps. “You look nice. I would hate to ruin your look. I could grab one of my own jackets if—”

  “No. You’re part of my look. Keep it on. We go together.”

  Jordan’s cheeks heated at his words. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

  “Are you ready to dominate a bottle of champagne with me before the show?” he asked as she locked her apartment door.

  “Um . . . I sort of just had a glass of wine. And you already know what a lightweight I am.”

  “What! How dare you pregame without me?” Brandon led her down the last stair and to the open door of a limousine.

  “You got us a limo!”

  “Of course! Jordan Artesian going on a date with me is kind of a major event.”

  Inside the limousine, blue lights accented the top and bottom shelves of the wet bar on one side of the vehicle. The other side had an L-shaped seat that stretched all the way down to the front, where it cornered up against the privacy glass separating them from the driver. Brandon slid in next to her and popped the champagne as the limo started out of the parking lot.

  He handed her a glass and clicked his to hers. “To happiness and beautiful people.”

  “And official first dates,” she added.

  When she finished her glass before him, he poured her another.

  “Is there a drinking contest I don’t know about?” he asked.

  “No. I need it. I just remembered where we’re going, and I need to relax.” She frowned as she remembered her dates with Todd. They were always awkward. She was always the outsider with his smart lawyer friends, and tonight would be the same with Brandon. She wouldn’t know anyone. This was Brandon’s lifestyle and friends, and she was just an accessory.

  “You shouldn’t be nervous. You’re with me,” he soothed, taking her free hand in his. His touch warmed her body. “It’ll be fun. I promise.” He kissed the back of her hand, causing her lower abdomen to flutter at the softness of his lips.

  No, don’t do that, a small voice in her head squeaked. Tension spread out from his hand still connected with hers.

  She swallowed champagne until a nice buzz settled over her. To letting go and starting over, she mentally toasted. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed into her seat and closed her eyes. “I feel it now. You need to get on my level.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, really? And which level are you on?”

  “Mmm, about level three and a half. Maybe four.”

  He laughed. “I’ll be there with you in a few.” He released her hand, picked up the bottle of champagne, and started to chug it. But then he stopped. “On second thought, I shouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t be tipsy and alone with you in that dress in here. I’m already too tempted as it is.”

  His words made her wonder what it would be like if she gave in to what her body wanted. What she knew he wanted. How good it would feel to be pressed up against him—or if she could work up the confidence to graze her fingers over his lap, just to feel whether he was as tempted as he said. Her underwear dampened. She hadn’t touched a man that way in four years.

  The limo pulled up to the red carpet, and her fear returned as she saw the flashing lights. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears as the chauffeur came around to let them out.

  “I think I hoped it would be a little less dramatic. How do I look? How’s my lipstick?”

  “You look amazing. And you look like you’re mine. You’ll be fine. Hold on to me if you need to. We are nobodies. Trust me, they don’t care about us.”

  She wrapped her arm around his elbow as cameras captured their walk down the carpet. Brandon’s name was shouted a few times—either that or she was going crazy. Maybe she’d already had a little too much to drink. He must think she was an alcoholic by now, but he made her so nervous. Although, as he laced his fingers through hers, the craziness dissipated.

  Looking down at her, he asked, “You okay?”

  She nodded and smiled. He made it easy to be okay.

  Their seats were in the first couple of rows right before the stage, and it was then that something dawned on her. There was more to Brandon—something she was missing. How did he know so many people—celebrities, even? What wasn’t he telling her about his life?

  Select artists gave their live performances at the beginning and throughout the show. When she got cold, he gave her his blazer again and kept checking on her to make sure she was doing fine. He was great at keeping her in the loop, as she should have remembered from their weekend trip in Miami.

  Enjoying the scent of him surrounding her, she pulled his blazer tighter around her shoulders. “I like this jacket. I may have to keep it.”

  “As long as I get to keep you.”

  “Oh my gosh.” She looked away, embarrassed.

  He always knew what to say, and she was starting to like that a little too much.

  “Damn, I think my phone fell out in the car seat, and I wanted to take a picture
with you. My mom would love it.”

  She smiled. “You mean the millions of cameras taking pictures outside wasn’t enough?”

  Brandon grinned. “No. Besides, we may never see those.”

  She handed him her phone. “You can use mine.”

  As they took a selfie, they were photobombed by the people sitting behind them.

  “Nice, you should upload this one,” Brandon said. “Oh, that’s right, you’re not on Facebook, are you?”

  “Nope, and I don’t need it.” The last thing she wanted to see was her ex or any of their mutual friends posting pictures of how happily in love Todd had been since she broke up with him.

  “It’s no problem. I’ll log into my account and upload it,” he said, seeming surprisingly at ease with her offline status.

  That was new. Everyone else forced it down her throat.

  “Just don’t put anything about a date on there. I haven’t told anyone. My friends would crucify me, though they really will after they see where I’ve been tonight,” Jordan said.

  After the show, while they waited for the limo, Brandon interacted with more prominent people. She didn’t know how he knew all of them, but she found herself jealous of the famous singers and models approaching him, especially when he introduced her as his friend. It had to be a sign that she was ready to date, because there was nothing she wanted more than for him to claim her as his.

  “Brandon! Dude, what’s up? How have you been?” a tall gentleman asked, knocking fists with Brandon and moving in for a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you in a while, but now I know why,” the man said, passing a glance at Jordan, an easy smile on his face.

  “I’ve just been so busy with work and school—you know, the boring stuff. But this is Jordan. Jordan, my buddy, Jeremy,” Brandon introduced.

  “Nice to meet you, Jeremy.” Jordan smiled, extending her hand.

  “Jordan. Beautiful smile, and by far the most gorgeous girl I’ve seen all night. Brandon, you’re a lucky bastard.”

  Jordan blushed. “Thank you.”

  “So, what are you two planning tonight? Are you heading to the after party?” Jeremy asked.

  Brandon glanced at Jordan. “I’m not sure. Do you have the same number?”