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Self-consciously, I touched the edge of my thick frames. “Sometimes I don’t feel like putting in contacts.”
“They look cute,” he said with another sweet smile, this one cautiously flirtatious. “I remember thinking that last time I saw them.”
He was nervous. It was utterly disarming. I tried to ignore the flutter in my belly and fixed a blank look on my face, praying I wouldn’t blush.
“How did you get in?” I asked.
Brandon shrugged, but his shoulders remained tense. “It wasn’t that hard to follow someone in and pretend I was a student. I heard the music and came down to see if it was you. I wish you had better security in this building, Red. Especially since you’re hanging out in empty basements by yourself at night.”
I raised an eyebrow. Controlling much?
“I, um, brought you this.”
Brandon pulled a robin’s-egg blue box tied with a white ribbon from the pocket of his jacket and held it out to me. Tiffany, by the look of it. It was slightly too big to contain what usually made girls in movies go crazy, but it obviously held some expensive trinket. A bracelet, maybe. Or a small necklace. It was exactly the box Patrick would have given me when he screwed up too.
Just like that, the flutter was gone.
I glared at the box with a frown but refused to take it, forcing Brandon to set it on the coffee table in front of him. When I looked back up, his eyes were wide, guileless, waiting hesitantly.
I sighed. “What are you doing here, Brandon?”
He pressed his lips into a crooked line, confused. “Well, I was listening to some gorgeous piano playing. Damn, Red. I think you might have chosen the wrong profession.”
I crossed my arms and sat on the closed top of the piano. “Don’t change the subject.”
Brandon sighed and leaned forward onto his knees, using one hand to brush away the hair across his forehead.
“I take back what I said about your potential as a litigator,” he said dryly. “I suspect you’d make any witness on the stand sweat bullets with that glare.”
I didn’t blink. “Just answer the question.”
“Can’t be distracted either.”
He sighed again. His innocent expression had morphed into a curious mix of desire and sorrow. I found myself gripping the edge of the piano to prevent myself from sitting next to him. Or straddling him.
Visions of what he had done to me in my apartment flashed through my mind, and I crossed my legs tightly. His eyes zeroed in on the slight movement, and an impish half smile spread slowly across his face. Yeah, he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on women.
“Something on your mind, Red?” he purred.
“Brandon,” I snapped, ignoring the heat building at my core. “Answer the fucking question, or I’m leaving.”
He huffed petulantly and sat back again. “Fine. I’m here to see you. Obviously.”
“Okay. I’ll be more specific. Why are you stalking me in my dormitory in the middle of the night? I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a week, plus I explicitly said not to contact me again. And now you sneak in bearing gifts? It’s creepy.”
Brandon nodded as if in agreement. “Yeah. Well. I wasn’t even going to call you again after that shit you pulled at the airport. I’ve never been treated like that by anyone, especially not by people I take to Paris.”
“So youhavedone it before!” I triumphed with a finger pointed at him. “I knew that was your game!”
“No, shit! That’s not what I meant!” He exploded forward. “A, I told you: I’m shit at dating. I’m sorry I got it wrong. I’m sorry Ikeepgetting it wrong. But B, you deserve the best I can offer. Paris for the evening or a weekend away in Barbados. Why shouldn’t you take it? It’s not like you get these kinds of things tossed your way.”
“And how would you know that?” I snarled.
Was he really pissed just because I wouldn’t take his stupid, moneyed bait? Because I wasn’t willing to drop my panties at the sight of an outrageously expensive jet or a Tiffany box? I ignored the fact that I had already done so without gifts.
“Is it the same way you found out what kind of tea I like?” I demanded. “Or where I grew up? You’ve managed to learn all these things about me before I even tell you, but since you don’t talk directlytome, all you do is make these crazy assumptions! I suppose I should be oh-so-grateful to receive such generosity, right?”
I punctuated the last comment with a sarcastically mimed kowtow, but Brandon’s only response was a raised blond brow that only infuriated me more.
