After he pulls into the motel parking lot, he asks what room I’m in. I point to the one on the end. With it being a weekday, there are only a few cars in the lot, and most are parked at the other end of the motel.
I roll my head on the headrest and look at him. “Thanks for the ride, and for keeping me on my feet.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Robert can shove it up his ass.”
I unbuckle my belt and grab the door handle. I get out of the car slowly because I’m not sure how steady I’ll be. Brady’s already saved me more times than he should have tonight. I can damn well make it to my door without falling on my ass.
The thought barely passes through my mind when the heel on my shoe decides to make a liar out of me by breaking off.
“Shit,” I grumble as I catch myself on the door.
I look over when I hear Brady get out on his side and walk over to me.
“I swear I’m not doing this on purpose,” I feel the need to say.
“Sure, you’re not,” he says with an amused twist of his lips.
My eyes roll heavenward as I grab onto his arm. He takes small steps so my wobbly ass can keep up with him. Once I’m in front of my door, I dig around in my small purse and produce the electronic key card. Brady takes it from me and holds it over the little box above the handle. A green light flashes then he’s pushing open the door.
Expecting him to let me go into my room alone, I’m surprised when he follows me inside and closes the door behind him. He tosses the card on the small, round table and looks around the room.
I throw my useless shoe across the room and do the same to the other. I face the mirror, dropping my purse on the top, and begin working on the many pins holding up my hair.
“Thanks again for tonight. I’m sure you can’t wait to get away from me.”
His chuckle is gravelly. “You weren’t that bad. And besides, you had a damn good excuse.”
I come across a pin that’s holding on for dear life. I struggle and try to untangle my hair from it when Brady’s reflection suddenly appears behind me. He brushes my hands aside and tackles the stupid thing himself. The back of his hand lightly grazes my neck and the touch has goosebumps appearing on my arms. I close my eyes, trying to escape the feelings running rampant through me.
If you couldn’t tell from my earlier statement about having multiple fantasies about Brady when I was younger, I had a major crush on him. A senior while I was a freshman, I knew I never had a chance. Hell, he probably didn’t even know who I was. I take that back. In a town as small as Silver Falls, everyone knew who everyone was. Brady probably just didn’t care about some peon little freshman. I cared though. I cared a heck of a lot. I cared enough that when he married Addison in college, I felt like my heart was split down the middle. Which was stupid because there was never a chance of us being together. I was too young for him, and I felt he was out of my league.
I mentally shake my head from my thoughts and realize Brady hasn’t moved away from me, even though the hairpin he was working on is out. He’s moved onto the other pins. My hair slowly falls free, tickling the back of my neck and arms.
I open my eyes and they immediately get caught by Brady’s in the mirror. One thing I’ve always liked about the man is how tall he is. His chin comes to the top of my head.
My mouth goes dry at the look he’s giving me, and I dart my tongue out to lick my lips. His eyes drop to the movement and the muscle in his jaw bunches. I wonder what he’s thinking. Is it anywhere near my own lustful thoughts?
He’s still standing way too close to be considered appropriate. I should turn around and ask him to leave. It feels like we’re playing too close to the edge of something. One slight movement and we’ll both topple over, and what’s at the bottom is something that will leave us both damaged.
I turn around, my mouth parting to tell him he should go, but then my eyes get caught on the bulge in his slacks. It’s a big bulge, and I’m curious if it’s deceptively big or if he’s actually that big.
“This is wrong, Camila.” His words are spoken roughly, like he’s having a hard time, like I am, remembering the line we shouldn’t cross.
“I know,” I say quietly.
This is wrong. Brady shouldn’t even be in my room right now. He shouldn’t be standing here, looking like he’s ready to devour me. And I shouldn’t be anxiously waiting for his control to snap.
But no matter how much I try, I can’t remember the reasons why.
Or maybe they just don’t matter anymore.