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“Can I ask you something?”
“Well, I suppose if I get to ask you a bunch of questions, then you can do the same.” I smile, trying to lighten the mood.
“Are you attracted to me?” he bluntly asks.
I nearly choke on the wine I was swallowing down. The answer to this question seems so obvious that I don’t even know that I can dignify it with a response, but I have to say something. Because he’s asking this, does it mean that he feels the same way that I do? And if I tell him the truth, will it make the next couple of weeks even more awkward?
“You’re blushing,” he says with a pleased grin.
“Well…” I say, bringing my hands to my cheeks.
“So you are, then,” he says.
“Tate, I have to be honest with you.”
“I encourage you to be,” he replies, leaning in.
“I don’t think attraction should play into this. There’s money in the mix here, which I don’t feel totally okay with but I know it’s part of the arrangement. And if sex comes into play, then this is a different kind of situation, if you understand my meaning.”
“I do,” Tate replies with warmth and understanding.
“So, attraction aside. I think we have to be careful.”
“I’d never put you in a situation where you feel uncomfortable.” I trust his words more than he even knows.
“Thank you.”
“But you’re still going to need to lock your door tonight.” He throws a wink my way.
I freeze for a moment. Oh God, what have I gotten myself into? Tate breaks the tension with a relaxed smile.
“I was kidding,” he says, pouring me another glass of wine, and we sit there and talk until the food is gone and the bottle of wine is empty.
9
Tate
I have to admit the past two weeks with Brianna staying at my place has been magical. It’s incredible how well we get along, and there’s something wonderfully domestic about it. While Eden lived with me for a bit in Chicago while we were engaged, it was tense, and she was always pissed.
I was too busy with work. I didn’t give her enough attention. She hated how I hung my ties in the closet, how I left my shoes at the edge of the bed, and just being in the same room as her seemed to annoy her.
Being with Brianna is the polar opposite. She’s upbeat all the time, and she doesn’t nitpick the little things I do. She’s easy going, and I feel my walls slowly crumbling when I’m around her.
“How long were you with her?” she asks over breakfast. We’ve been having these breakfasts together for a couple weeks now, and I look forward to them every morning. Brianna makes some waffles and drowns them in syrup. I toast a bagel and put cream cheese on it. We sip coffee and look out the bay windows, enjoying the morning light in the forest.
“Two years.”
“You were engaged for two years and didn’t get married?” She seems shocked, but I can’t stop admiring the way that she looks in the morning light. Her hair is messy, and she wakes up looking gorgeous.
“There were issues. Things didn’t feel right, but I was getting pressure from my family. But then I found out…”
“What’d you find out?” Brianna asks, taking a sip of coffee. She’s intrigued by me, by this story, and truthfully, it’s like a soap opera.
“She was cheating on me.” I can’t remember how many people I’ve actually told that to. Brianna might be the second. It’s something I never share.
“Are you joking?” She sets her fork down on the edge of her plate, and it makes a loud clang.
“Why would I be joking?” I let out a lighthearted laugh.
