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But I can’t cross that line, not this soon, even if I’m starting to think that’s the only word to describe this amazing thing between us.
Chapter Fifteen
Bria
“This seems like a lot of fuss,” I murmur, as Maximillia adjusts the golden fabric across my chest, draping it over my shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Maximillia makes a tsk noise. “Stop shifting around, dear girl. An artist can’t work under these sort of conditions.”
I repress a giggle at her stuffy manner, which hasn’t gotten old even after so much time working together.
Granted, it’s only been close to a week, but it feels so much longer because we’ve been cramped up together.
Heck, it’s the same with Braden.
It’s only been a little while, and yet in that short time, a whole universe of possibilities has opened up inside of me, making me believe that maybe Hollywood romance isn’t a bunch of nonsense after all.
“And even if I wasn’t being paid – which I am, by the way, so quit your complaining – I would want you to look beautiful for your big date. I knew it was the right decision, to talk to him. You shall no longer call me Maximillia, dear girl. I am now called Cupid.”
Now I can’t hold back my giggle, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
I glance at the digital clock which came with the apartment, an old Goodwill thing. The numbers are acid green and tell me that it’s almost ten PM.
I worry about the late night date, the thought of work in the morning, with my buses and everything.
“And you know,” Maximillia says, shooting me a sly look out of the corner of her eye. “If one of my interns happened to be delayed tomorrow until about – say – midday… well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
She must’ve caught me looking at the clock.
“Are you serious?” I gasp.
“Yes, I want you to enjoy yourself. I can see how enamored you are with this man, and it’s like I said before… I have never seen, nor have I heard about Braden Braxten behaving in this way. With anyone.”
I clutch her words tightly, holding them inside of me, as I think about the car ride home, all the heartache and closeness we shared.
It’s that time-expanding thing again, as though one car ride with Braden can become a whole week’s worth of intimacy.
Before, I would’ve called myself insane for thinking it had anything to do with me, anything to do with this sizzling need I feel for him to put a baby inside of me. But now I can’t deny the feeling, the warmth, and the fire pulsing inside of me.
Our bodies are screaming at our minds to do it now, to forge our future now.
And yet every time I think about being the woman Braden needs in the bedroom, my whole body goes rigid, nerves pricking at me so the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
He might’ve told me he doesn’t need me to be anything, but that doesn’t stop my insecurities from surging around my head like debris around a maelstrom, threatening to consume me.
I push those pesky thoughts away when Maximillia steps back, waving her hand with a flourish.
“Ta da,” she sings, darting across the room and grabbing the full length mirror.
It’s the mirror she brought with her, lightweight so she can move it around. But of course, since it belongs to Maximillia Jeffries, it’s ultra-stylish. There’s gold fringe all around the edges.
I gaze at myself in the gold colored dress, the fabric draped over my shoulder, cutting across my breasts. It’s something between a gown and a regular dress, showing a little of my legs.
Enough to get him drooling, Maximillia said when she first showed it to me.
For a long moment, it’s difficult to believe the woman in the mirror is me. I’ve never worn something so expensive, so glamorous.
Slowly, a smile peels across my face, getting wider and wider until my cheeks start to ache with the overwhelming emotion. Tears gather in my eyes, silly childish tears, and yet I find I can’t push them away.
“You’ve made me look beautiful,” I whisper.
Maximillia frowns at me over the mirror. “No, my dear. I’ve merely brought out your natural beauty. Now let me get out of your way so your man can get a good look at you.”
She bustles from the room before I have a chance to give her a proper thank you.
“Is she ready?” Braden asks.
He doesn’t raise his voice, but I can detect the carnal growl in his tone even from here, as though his body is sending savage signals through the half-open door. I’m done second-guessing thoughts like that, even if they should be insane.
The whole situation is insane, so picking out individual things is hardly productive.
