“You don’t want me to judge you,” he finishes my sentence, doing it more perfectly than I could’ve ever done.
He’s right—I don’t want him to judge me just because I got inside a car within a few minutes of getting to know him. Between you and me, this is the first time I’ve ever done anything like this. What this is, I’m still not sure.
“Look,” he continues, reaching for me and gently placing one hand under my chin. He makes me turn to the side, and my gaze meets his. “I’m not going to judge you for anything…and if someone ever judges you, that’s because they’re fucking losers. You’re the most beautiful woman that has ever stepped foot inside my bar. You’re a successful surgeon, and the rest….well, it’s just fucking peanuts. So, hold your head high, yeah?”
“Thank you,” I manage to say, not exactly knowing what to respond.
Yeah, he’s absolutely right about it…but I can’t say I’m used to having a handsome man like him trying to boost my self-confidence. But, hey, he sure as hell seems to have a talent for it, because the next words that leave my mouth are so out-of-character that I can’t even recognize myself.
“Do you know where The Bradford is? I live there, and it’s just right around the corner.”
Yup—I crossed that imaginary line, the one separating the old Sam from the brave and fearless one—the Sam that can already imagine herself waking up in bed with a stranger by her side.
Well, as long as that stranger is Brad, that’s fine with me. I mean, have you looked at him? Tall, built like a Greek marble statue, and with the most delicious grin I’ve ever seen.
Not to mention that he has his manliness perfectly counterbalanced by a deep-seated kindness—a perfect gentleman, if there has ever been one. I just hope he’s not a gentleman inside the bedroom.
Oh my god, did I actually think that? I sooo need to get laid.
We arrive at The Bradford five minutes later, and he parks the car right in front of the entrance. By the time we get there, it’s started raining heavily, the rain pattering down on the pavement hard, the sound of it a constant drumming.
I’m about to leave the car, my hand already on the door’s handle, when I notice two people standing right in front of the building’s entrance. Narrowing my eyes to see past the rain, I immediately recognize Emilia and Evan.
These two have been dating—at least it sure as hell seems like it, judging by the way they look at each other whenever they’re in the same room. But it doesn’t look like they’re being romantic toward each other right now. In fact, it looks exactly like the opposite.
“...after everything, Emilia? How can you even say that?” Evan says, his voice coming at me loud and clear despite the sound of the rain.
Yeah, these two are having an argument—and not a nice one, judging by the look on Emilia’s face. Even though the rain has plastered her hair to her face, I swear she’s crying.
“You don’t understand. It’s not as easy as that, Evan. You just can’t wish for things to be exactly like you want them to be!” she shouts, her voice a blend of anger and sadness. Jesus, what t
he hell is going on?
“So, that’s it, huh?” Evan asks her, and Emilia simply nods sadly.
“That’s it.”
With that, Evan turns on his heels and storms off, walking down the street like a man hell-bent on punching everything and everyone. Getting back inside the building, Emilia ambles through the reception hall like a woman whose soul has just departed her body.
“Friends of yours?” Brad asks me, looking at me curiously.
“My neighbors.”
“Well, seems like your neighbors have just broken up,” he whispers.
“Seems like it,” I mutter, wondering what the hell has just happened.
These two had such chemistry…wasn’t that enough? Are they giving up on their chance at love just because they can’t see eye-to-eye? I know I’ve done that in the past—and god knows how many times I’ve allowed happiness to pass me by just because I was too blind, too focused on work and whatnot.
But tonight…tonight’s going to be different.
Tonight, I’m going to be a better Sam.
“Care to see my bedroom?” I ask Brad, my heart throwing a fit inside my chest.
Sweet mercy, I’m so dizzy I think I’m about to pass out. What if he says no? What if he’s having second thoughts? After all, I’m not that interesting and—
“Lead the way.”