by Emma Louise
“Thanks.” I want to say something more, anything that would start a conversation so he’ll stay and talk for a while longer. After a beat of silence, he turns to leave, stopping in the doorway and turning back to me.
“Thanks for watching Abel tonight. It was a weight off my mind knowing he was here with you. You’re great with him.” He doesn’t give me the chance to respond before he leaves the room, closing the door as he goes.
Trying to sleep is a waste of time.
I've been tossing and turning for the last two hours. Trying to sleep with TJ’s scent all over this shirt of his I'm wearing is like torture. Throwing the heavy blankets off my legs, I pull my socks on so I can go downstairs to make a warm drink. Hopefully this will help me finally get some sleep.
Pulling the door open, I quietly make my way downstairs. Once I’m in the kitchen, I warm some milk to make cocoa. Taking the throw off the back of the sofa, I curl up in the chair next to the large French doors at the back of the kitchen. It’s too dark to see much of anything out there, the view of the lake that I caught earlier swallowed up by the dark. Right now, I can only see the stars in the inky sky. Opening the Kindle app on my phone, I try my best to get lost in the story on the screen.
It’s no use, my mind is stuck on thoughts of TJ. He’s in this house, so close to where I’m sitting. My mind won’t stop conjuring images of him in bed, how he looks while he sleeps. I’m so lost in these thoughts I don’t notice TJ has walked into the room until he’s right next to me.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” His voice cuts through the quiet night, making me jump in my seat.
“TJ! You scared the crap out of me!” My voice comes out an octave higher than normal.
“I spoke to you when I came in here, but you must have been so lost in thought that you didn’t hear me. I thought you might have been sleeping.” He chuckles. I move my eyes back to the doors, as if he might somehow be able to work out just what, or who, my thoughts have been on.
“Why are you up?” I ask but don’t get a response.
“Stuff on my mind, I guess.” He sighs eventually, obviously not wanting to talk about it.
“I bet you get great views here in the summer,” I say, attempting to distract him from whatever is on his mind.
“I think so, we only moved in a few months ago.” Turning to face him, I see his gaze trained out the window. “I was in an apartment before Abel came along, but I wanted him to have a yard to eventually run around in.”
It's on the tip of my tongue to ask questions, but I know it’s not my place. Instead, I keep quiet. TJ runs hot and cold with me, and I never know which version of him I'll be getting. The last thing I want is to ask him something that will have him shutting down on me again. No, it’s safer to keep my questions to myself.
“It couldn’t have been much fun, moving with a tiny baby.”
“I’m lucky to have my family. I’d be lost trying to do this parenting stuff on my own.” He chuckles.
“What happened to her? Abel’s mom?” So much for keeping my questions to myself. Luckily, TJ doesn’t seem offended by my asking.
“You mean you haven’t heard the gossip at work?” he says on a laugh, one that’s devoid of any humor.
“Gossip isn’t my thing,” I tell him honestly. “You don’t have to tell me. I know it’s none of my business.” I assume the conversation is over when he doesn’t answer for a few minutes. He's still staring out of the glass doors, seemingly lost in his thoughts, so I take full advantage and let my gaze rest on his face for a while. Even in profile, in the dark, he’s easily the most handsome man I've ever seen.
“She died.” It’s a whisper, but the weight of it fills the room. Even though I assumed that something like this had happened, it still stings to see the sadness on his face.
“I’m sorry.” I know that he’s probably heard it a million times, but what else can I say? I’d pretty much come to this conclusion on my own anyway, but it still fills me with a sadness to know that Abel will never get to grow up with his mom. I know how that feels all too well.
Reaching over I squeeze his hand. He looks at me, and I'm taken aback by the sadness on his face. Offering me a small smile, he flips his hand over and threads his fingers through mine. The action causes my breath to catch. He’s lost in thought, and I'm sure he doesn’t even notice he’s done it. I want to revel in how right his hand feels entwined with mine, but instead he speaks again.
“Thank you. Actually, we weren’t together. Abel is the result of a bottle of Jack and some poor decisions.” I get the feeling he struggles with talking about anything related to Abel’s mom.
“I’m still sorry. For both of you,” I tell him. “Both my parents died when I was a child, so I can relate a little.” TJ’s hand convulses in mine.
“That must have been rough. How old were you?”
“I wasn’t even a year old when my dad passed. He had a massive heart attack while at work one day. I have no memories of him, but my mom used to say my eldest brother was dad born again so I have an idea of what he was like at least,” I chuckle. “She loved him until she died, and she made sure we all grew up knowing how much he loved us.”
“And your mom?” he asks quietly, and now it’s my turn to keep my gaze trained on the night pressing in against the glass we’re still sat in front of.
“She was amazing. She was diagnosed with cancer the when I was around five-years-old. She fought so hard, and she won that first time. The second time it was rampant through her whole body before she even suspected. She died when I was nine. My sister came home from college and took over raising us younger kids.”
“You’re amazing.” Meeting his eyes, I let the compliment wash over me. “You’ve been through all that, and you’re still one of the brightest people I’ve ever met.”
“I learned that life is short, TJ. My mom would always make me promise that I’d live it to the fullest, every single day. She fought her battle for years; I figured the least I could do to honor her was live how she wanted me to.” I shrug.
“That’s a beautiful way to look at it.” The smile he sends my way is devastating. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid, like lean over and kiss him. I start to pull my hand from his so I can stand up, but he squeezes my fingers, causing me to stop and look at him.
“Thanks again. For tonight.” I get the feeling he doesn’t mean just watching his son.
“Anytime. Now come on, bedtime. We'll both be useless tomorrow if we don’t get some sleep.” I pull him up so he’s standing in front of me. My hand drops from his, and I feel the loss immediately.
Once we’re standing in the hallway outside the room I'm sleeping in, I expect TJ to keep walking, but he stops right behind me, close enough for me to feel the heat of his breath on my neck. Turning around to face him, I expect him to take a step back, but he stays locked in place. He’s so tall compared to me that I’m looking at his throat when I feel his fingers gently stroke under my chin, tilting my head back so he can look me in the eye.
“Breeze.” He breathes my name, and I don’t just hear it—I feel it. My name has never been said like that before, by anyone. Like it hurts him to say it, but in the best possible way.
My mouth dries with nerves because I'm certain he’s about to kiss me. I’m half thrilled at the thought of it, half terrified. The fingers that were just under my chin shift to cup my jaw, before he cups the back of my head oh so gently.
I’m a split second away from begging him to kiss me.
The air around us seems to be on pause. It’s a timeless vacuum that could be mere seconds or hours or days.
But I don’t have to beg because he leans in the last inch needed for our lips to meet. His mouth strokes over mine softly, like he’s learning the dip of my lips.
The kiss is slow and soft and so right.
It's also over way too quickly.
“Goodnight, beautiful Bree,” he whispers against my mouth and before I know it, I’m standing alo
ne in the hallway, fingers pressed to my lips, wondering what the hell just happened.
I knew that it would be a mistake to kiss her, but it was pointless fighting the inevitable.
It was just a matter of time before it happened. Especially after seeing her sitting in my house, wearing my shirt, looking like she was meant to be right there. I’m not sure I've ever felt so comfortable with a woman before, comfortable enough to almost tell her the truth about Willow and all the mistakes I’ve made. The only reason I stopped short of spilling the whole sorry tale was the fact that I was sure she’d be disgusted with me if she knew the truth.
No. I’ll keep that to myself if there’s even the slightest chance that Breeze will look at me differently.
I’ve quickly become addicted to being around her.
Now I have to work out what the fuck to do about it.
After spending the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, I finally gave up trying to sleep around the time the sun came up. The only bright spot in this fucked up situation is I’d gotten a ton of work done already.
I’m in the kitchen waiting for Abel to wake for the day when she walks in; thank fuck she’s changed out of my shirt. Although, the workout clothes she’s wearing aren’t much better. Tight in all the right places.
“Morning,” we both say at the same time.
“There’s fresh coffee in the pot, and I left a mug out for you.”
“I’m going to need more than a mug to get me through today,” she mutters.
“You didn’t sleep either?”
“Well, let’s see.” She fills a mug before turning toward me. “This guy that I know keeps confusing me. One minute he’s acting like I'm an irritation, the next he’s holding my hand and getting me to talk about my dead parents. Then to top it off, he kisses me stupid, right before leaving me standing there alone like an idiot.” My chest tightens at the confusion marring her pretty face.
“Bree ... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you.” She’s shocked me with how direct she is, and I’m lost for words right now.
“What are we doing here, TJ?” she asks uncertainly.
I’m saved from answering by a crying Abel. Shit.
I was so distracted with thoughts of Breeze that it slipped my mind that Abel was still sleeping. This is why I can’t let this attraction get out of hand. I don’t have room in my life for a woman. Not a woman like Breeze who could easily consume me.
“Can we talk about this later? I have to get to him.”
“Of course. Go,” she says softly.
“Make yourself some breakfast. I’ll get him ready and we can head into work.”
She doesn’t answer, just smiles a smile that looks nothing like her normal smiles do. I make my way up the stairs, a conflicted mess of thoughts and feelings.
By the time I get back downstairs, she’s gone, leaving behind a note that simply says:
‘Something came up. See you at work. -B’
Watching the clock, I’m counting down the minutes until I get to see her again. This morning has been a bust, and it’s a miracle I got anything done. My head is full of Breeze. Thoughts of kissing her. Thoughts of exploring not just her body, but what makes her tick mentally too.
Thoughts of exploring what we could be, what I want us to be.
She’s due down here any minute to take Abel, and I have no idea what I’m going to say to her. I’ve talked myself in circles all day, and I’m no closer to knowing what it is I want.
My phone rings on the desk in front of me and for a second, I’m scared it’s Breeze calling to cancel. I snatch it up, but when I see it’s my brother, I decline the call. I don’t have the headspace to deal with him right now.
The phone starts ringing again. There must be something wrong for Keir to call back immediately like that. Swiping the screen, I answer.
“Brother—” I don’t get the chance to say anything more when he interrupts me.
“Pop’s water broke. She’s in labor.” Instead of sounding excited, he sounds terrified. I had a feeling this would happen. He’s been pretending to be okay, but secretly stressing himself out.
“What do you need from me?” I ask, jumping to my feet, ready to get to him if he needs me.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out. What if she’s not okay? What if—”
“I’m on my way. Stay calm. Text me the details,” I tell him before hanging up the phone.
I’m almost done strapping Abel into his seat when Breeze walks into the room.
“Hey. What’s going on? Where are you going?”
“Keir called. Poppy went into labor, and he needs me there. He’s freaking out.”
“What will you do with Abel?”
“I guess I can drop him to my mom. She’ll have Chase with her anyway.”
“Let me keep him,” she says immediately.
“What?”
“He was supposed to be with me this afternoon anyway. Drop us off at your place then go to the hospital.”
“You’d do that?”
“Of course,” she says, an incredulous look on her face, like I’m stupid for not asking her before she had the chance to offer.
There are so many things I want to say to her right now. I want to go to her, wrap my arms around her, and hold on tight. Instead, I exhale the breath I always seem to be holding onto when I'm near her.
“Thank you.” The soft smile she gives me is almost enough to knock me on my ass.
When I walked away from her this morning, I was glad of the distraction. Happy to have a few minutes to collect my thoughts, except all I was able to think about was the feel of her lips on mine. Seeing her again, standing right in front of me, is just making that craving stronger.
“We still need to talk,” I tell her. She pauses slightly where she’s made herself busy getting the rest of Abel’s stuff together, but she doesn’t look my way.
“It’s fine,” she says, trying to brush me off. “I thought about it, and you were right”—she finally looks at me before continuing—“but you were also wrong,” she adds, confusing me.
“About what?”
She stares at me before answering, the conflict of whether to continue this conversation plays out right there on her face. I guess she decides to commit to it when she clears her throat and squares her shoulders before she speaks again.
“You said you shouldn’t have kissed me. You’re right. You shouldn’t have. But you’re not the only one to blame. I shouldn’t have let you.”
“Bree, I—”
“It’s fine, TJ. It was a mistake. Let’s not make it into something it doesn’t need to be.” Turning back to what she was doing, she effectively dismisses me.
I should be grateful. This is what I should want. She’s giving me a ‘get out of jail free’ card. I can walk away now, before this situation can get anymore fucked up.
Except, I’m not so sure that’s what I want anymore.
Oh shit.
“What’s wrong?” Fleur asks, concern in her voice. I must have said that out loud.
“He’s wearing sweatpants,” I whisper into the phone that’s tucked between my shoulder and my ear. I have no idea why when he’s over the other side of the room and can’t hear me.
“And?” Fleur prompts.
I haven’t taken my eyes off TJ since I walked into the gym and saw him like this. My hungry gaze travels over every inch of him as he pulls himself up on the metal bar. Every muscle flexes and dances under his smooth skin. I’m aware that I'm staring at his ass like it’s a piece of meat, but I just can’t seem to drag my eyes off him.
Forcing down a whimper that’s desperate to escape, I finally answer my friend, “They’re gray sweatpants.”
“Holy. Shit,” she whispers back.
“Yep.”
“Front or back view?” she asks.
“Back,” I reply, silently thanking the Lord that it’s just the back. I'd be likely to faint if I had to see him front on.
“Take a picture.”
“Fleur!” I splutter a laugh. “No way, that’s so inappropriate.”
“I’ll pay you,” she offers. As much as I’m tempted to take a picture for my own needs, there’s no way I’m chancing it. I’d die if I ever got caught with it.
“Not happening, Fleur. But he works out this time every day, didn’t you say you have to stop by tomorrow to drop that thing off?”
“I like your way of thinking.” She sounds as if she’s actually considering turning up here tomorrow just to ogle TJ.
Saying goodbye to my friend, I quickly make my way around the edge of the room, hoping to avoid him. It’s been almost a week since Poppy had the baby, and thankfully I’ve managed to avoid the conversation TJ thought we needed to have.
With Keir being at home with Poppy and their new baby, TJ has been slammed here at the gym. It’s been easy to keep out of his way while he’s been distracted. Judging by the text he sent me early this morning, my time might be running out.
We still need to talk.
I don’t need to hear him say that kissing me was a mistake. Not again. The first time hurt enough. I’d rather just forget it ever happened.
Later that evening, I’m sitting in Poppy’s kitchen holding her brand new baby boy. When I started working for Keir, I didn’t expect to become friends with his wife, but after coming to some of my classes, Poppy pretty much demanded my number and strong armed me into being her friend. Not that I’m complaining, she’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.
“He’s adorable,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off the little boy wrapped in a white blanket she’d dropped in my arms as soon as I walked in the door. “No name yet?” I ask.
“No. We can’t seem to agree.” She rolls her eyes as she speaks, “Keir has terrible taste in names.”
“I do not,” Keir says as he walks into the kitchen where we’re sitting around the table.
“Naming our son after a football player equals terrible taste in my opinion. And the poor thing will get bullied in school.”
