Whatever he expects to get out of me, he isn’t going to. I do my best to ignore his eyes on me as I clean up so I can get ready for the dinner service. Occasionally, I hear the sound of him sipping his coffee, which he must be trying to do as loudly as humanly possible.
Finally breaking, I groan and say, “Can you spit out whatever nonsense you’ve got for me, and then get out of my kitchen so I can work?”
He beams at me like I actually said something nice to him. This man is deranged, I swear. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been smiling to yourself quite a lot lately. And sometimes you look...”
“Look what?” I snap. And at this, Sam wisely exits the kitchen, leaving us alone.
Brenden smiles again. “Distracted.”
Distracted.Yeah, I won’t try to argue that.
After experiencing Riley Rowland waking up in my house and coming downstairs wearing a tiny pair of silk sleep shorts and a white camisole top with no bra, of fucking course I’ve been distracted. Believe me, if I could erase that image from my brain, I would. Probably.
I mean, Ishould, at least. Because I’m not supposed to want her the way I do. But Ido.
“Have I not been handling my job properly?” I ask in an attempt at deflection.
This pain in the ass sees through me, though. “You know I’m not concerned about that. Come on. I’m dying to know what happened with you guys.”
“What the heck do you think happened? Nothing. She’s a gorgeous, famous country star, and I’m—”
“Hot,” Brenden says, cutting me off before I could say that I’m a nobody.
I give him an unamused look. “How would you know?”
He laughs. “Oh, please. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I can’t see when a woman is attractive. And I can also see that she checks you out when you’re not looking.”
Oh.
Well, that’s interesting.
My cheeks heat, and I can only hope they’re not red enough to be noticeable. I’ve picked up on the way Riley looks at me sometimes even when Iamlooking, so it’s not that I don’t believe him. But I can’t have this conversation with him. Not at all, preferably, but especially not here in the kitchen where any of the staff could walk in.
I know that Riley got photographed kissing a woman, but she’s still not officially out or anything even close. And I’m not going to betray her trust by letting Brenden know that she’s in the process of figuring out her bisexuality. So even if I wanted to have this conversation with him—which Idon’t—about the potential for something happening between me and her, I can’t.
“I think you should stay focused on your own relationship and not worry about me,” I say. “Like I’ve told you before, I’m not interested in dating. I’m not interested in getting all stupid over someone like you have, and getting comfortable again, just so they can fuck me over. Love is for suckers. Nobody stays in love with someone forever.”
There’s an extended silence after I finish my little rant. I didn’t exactly mean to go off like that. I only wanted to put an end to his prying. But when I see the hurt look on his face, I’m immediately hit with a wave of guilt.
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. Bringing his mug over to the sink, he pours out the rest of the contents and then rinses it. There wasn’t much left, but if he’s wasting even a drop of coffee, he must really be upset.
“I’ll leave you alone,” he says, turning for the doors. “Didn’t mean to bother you.”
“Wait,” I call out. Hedidmean to bother me, but he didn’t mean to upset me. Not the way I upset him. When he turns back around, I give him an apologetic smile. “Please ignore everything I said. Seriously.”
He shrugs noncommittally, and I sigh so hard it blows a loose strand of hair out of my face.
“Just because my relationship didn’t work out,” I say, “doesn’t mean I think yours won’t. I know it will.”
“You can’t actually know that, though,” he says, with a combined head shake and shrug this time. “But whatever. Travis is the person I want to be with, and I know he wants to be with me. That’s all I can ask for right now.”
I pull my apron over my head and untie it from my waist, setting it aside before I go over to him. He still hasn’t bounced back to his normal overly-smiley self, and that’s my fault.
“That man is fucking obsessively in love with you,” I tell him, grabbing both his forearms and shaking them so he looks at me. “I really didn’t mean what I said. I might be bitter, but you don’t need to be. I’ll try harder not to rub my cynicism all over you.”
That gets a small laugh out of him. “Hey, if I can handle Travis’s grumpiness, I can handle yours.”
