Follow Me Darkly (Follow Me 1)

“I’ve had enough, thanks.”

“You?” He nods to Tessa.

“I’d love another banana daiquiri,” she says coyly.

“Done. I’ll be back.” He heads to the bar.

“Okay, let me have it,” I say to Tessa.

“Have what?”

“The grand inquisition.”

“What’s wrong with you? He’s fabulous. He’s even better-looking in person than in professional photos. You’re one lucky woman, Skye.”

“I can’t believe he showed up here.”

“Maybe he’s just late,” she says.

I shake my head. “He saw my Instagram post.”

Her eyes widen back into circles. “No way. He saw that post and came here because you’re here? That’s great!”

“Is it? It’s not a little… I don’t know. Creepy? Like in a stalkerish way?”

She laughs. “He can stalk me anytime.”

“For God’s sake, I’m serious, Tess.”

“So am I. Until he boils a rabbit in your kitchen, I say go for it.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You know I’m kidding. Besides, he doesn’t strike me as the stalker type. Plus, the tabloids follow his every move. If he had stalker tendencies, we’d know by now.”

Braden pushes through the crowd carrying three drinks and not spilling a drop.

“One banana daiquiri.” He hands the canary-yellow drink to Tessa.

“Thanks so much.” A grin splits her face.

“I took the liberty of getting you Wild Turkey in case you changed your mind.” He hands me a glass.

“I didn’t.”

“Great. Then two for me. Follow me. I’ve got a much better table.”

“I’m sure being Braden Black has its perks,” I say dryly.

Braden lowers his head and softly blows my hair out of the way, his hot breath making me shiver. “Being with Braden Black also has its perks.”

Chapter Eighteen

Tessa takes a long sip of her banana daquiri and then heads back to the dance floor, much to my chagrin. I both do and don’t want to be alone with Braden. This Push Me Pull You game is getting exhausting.

Braden takes a drink and then slides his tongue across his bottom lip. Does he have any idea how sexy that is? How much it makes me want him?

“Did you notice how Peter Reardon made a quick getaway when I showed up?”

“Yeah. I’d have to be blind to have missed it.”

“You said I thought he was hanging around you because of me,” Braden said, “but that’s not what I thought, and that’s not why.”

“Oh?”

“He was pursuing you because you’re sexy as hell, Skye.”

I gulped, warming.

“He made a quick getaway because when he saw me stake my claim—”

I cross my legs slowly. “Excuse me? Stake your claim?”

“You think that was a bad choice of words?”

“I do. I’m not something you can plant your flag on. I’m a person, Braden.”

“A very intriguing person,” he says. “At any rate, when he saw that I was interested—are those words better?”

I nod.

“He put the contract ahead of bedding you. Which is fine by me.”

It’s fine by me as well, but I’m not about to admit that to Braden. I have no interest in Peter Reardon. He seems nice enough and he’s attractive, but only one man holds my interest at the moment—the man sitting next to me.

“I see,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Sure you don’t want a drink?” He nods to the second Wild Turkey sitting on the table.

“I’m good. Thanks.” Though another drink would relax me. I long for relaxation, but I long just as much for control.

Control wins.

This time.

Tessa comes back to the table and sits down. Though she still looks great, perspiration is emerging at her brow line. “This band is fantastic, but I need a break. Care to accompany me to the little girls’ room, Skye?”

“Yeah. Sure.” I stand and grab the silver clutch. “Excuse me for a minute,” I say to Braden.

“I’ll be here.” His lips quiver slightly, as if he wants to smile but is holding back. I’m not sure what that means. I’m not sure about anything pertaining to Braden Black, most of all my ambivalent feelings.

Several guests clamor up to him as Tessa and I turn to leave the ballroom. Everyone wants to shake his hand, it seems.

When we get to the restroom, Tessa grabs a few paper towels and blots her forehead. Then she freshens her makeup. “How are things going?” she asks.

“I have no idea.”

“He’s obviously into you.”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose?” She laughs. “You are something, Skye.”

I rub soap on my hands and stick them under the faucet. The warm water coats them. “What does it all mean, though? For some reason, something about me appeals to him and he wants to have sex with me.” I reach past Tessa for a paper towel.

“And that’s a problem because…?” She throws her lipstick into her purse.

“He kicked me out of his place, Tess. He left to take a call, and then his driver took me home. It was humiliating.” I gaze at my reflection. My Susanne lip stain is holding up nicely.

“So tell him not to do that to you again.”