He’s never said no before. In fact, I think he likes being there for me, even if it’s only like an older brother. This better not be the time he starts saying no.
“I don’t know, Dawson…” he begins, but I cut him off again. I let my hand fall from his arm and place it into the back pocket of my ripped, faded high-waisted mom jeans.
“Listen, Rawls. It’ll be six days on the road there with some pretty fun activities. We will be participating in wedding festivities for two days, then traveling home for two. That’s ten days total. You’ll still have time to rest or do whatever it is you want to do before going back offshore.” I know,I know.I’m asking so much from him. He typically uses his month off to decompress and work on the home he has been building for himself. But I’m too desperate to let this go without a well-given fight on my end. If Mama taught me one thing, it was how to use my feminine charm on a man. I don’t like to be manipulative, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Besides, flirting with Braxton is nothing new to me. Teasing him is my favorite pastime.
I tilt my head to the side, pouting my bottom lip ever so slightly. I let my eyes grow a little wider, blinking a few more times. Dilated eyes are apparently one of the most attractive qualities in a person. It shows affection and interest.
He thinks for a moment longer, his dark green eyes searching mine. They dilate as he continues to study me. What’s going on in that big brain of his?
“I need you, Braxton.” I play my damsel in distress card, hoping it triggers that savior complex of his. But he only continues to stare with mild amusement. “Fight for it?” I suggest, resorting to my last-ditch effort.
His lips tug upward for a brief moment and he nods. We take our stances.
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” we yell in unison. I pull scissors, as I always do on my first round. He pulls rock, which is to be expected.
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”
He shocks me by pulling paper, whereas he typically pulls rock. He covers my hand, still sitting in the rock position, with his hand—calloused, working hands on top of smooth, porcelain skin. My shoulders sink, and I feel my cheeks redden a bit.He must really not want to go with me to win out in the second round.It’d be pointless to deny that we know each other’s moves by heart in this little game we play.
“Fine, I’ll go.” He suppresses a smile, but I see it trying to break through. My heart swells at this kind, albeit testing, man. “But you owe me a gazillion coffees, some of that lemon hand soap from your store, and several homemade delicious meals you conjure up.”
“Your wish is my command,” I say, bowing my head and rubbing my hands together to give full-on genie vibes. Thank goodness he said yes.
“Such a weirdo.” He shakes his head and laughs. That carefree sound sends me to Cloud Nine. In fact, Braxton is the sole pilot that can get me there these days.
“You sure we can’t just fly?” he asks. “Then we could just spend a week touring historical sights in Virginia.”
“Not a chance, Rawls. I planned an epic trip.” I grab his hand again, intertwining his calloused fingers between my dainty ones. “And if you rub me the right way on the road trip you may get more wishes and favors.”
I watch his face turn shade after shade of red. I expect him to push away and change the subject like he typically does when I try a little flirting out on him. But instead, he grasps my hand tighter, leans down so that our faces are mere inches from each other, and whispers, “You’re on.”
I’m a girl who doesn’t blush. So I’m positive the heat flooding my face is in no way manifesting itself as a color.
I think.
That’s not the typical “older brother” type of action I’ve come to expect from him. What alien took over my best friend’s mind to makehimsay something likethattome?
Chapter Four
Braxton
Thedesignatedfriend.That’sall I’ve ever been to Hadley, and now I have to figure out how to change that label. It has to happen smoothly and in increments so I don’t push her away.
When she asked me yesterday to accompany her on the road trip to a wedding in Virginia, a million red flags shot up.Abort, Abort, my mind screamed, much like my older sister Brandi sounded when I told her on the phone what my plan was. I needed to make sure Dad was looked after while I was away. Much like my month-on, month-off job, Brandi and I take turns checking on Dad.
But I’ve been at my breaking point lately when it comes to Hadley, and I’ve almost told her how much I love her on more than one occasion. I don’t know when I realized I loved her. Maybe it was the moment I watched her invite a girl who was eating lunch by herself to sit with us in the cafeteria in high school? Or maybe it was after all the times I consoled her when she broke down under the stress of caring for her alcohol and drug-addicted mother. Heck, it was probably all the times she’s given me her cheeky smile…her true smile. Not the fake one she puts on for the rest of society. There are too many moments to note that could have been the turning point from mere friend to romantic interest.
After my mom’s death, it felt extra important to hold Hadley close, which meant spending even more time with her and falling deeper in love with the woman who would seemingly never be mine in the way I so desperately craved.
All while she dated man after man, ending with that douche, Daniel.
I clench and unclench my fist, my knuckles still feeling a little sore from that one punch. Daniel didn’t see it coming last night. I knocked on his door, he opened it, and I put the entirety of my muscle mass and size behind one blazing punch of glory. He fell down, I might have spit on him (not too proud, but maybe just a little), and told him he never deserved a woman like Hadley.
She doesn't know any of this, and I plan to keep it that way. She said she handled him herself, and I believe it from what she told me last night while we watched the movie. But I couldn’tnotstep in.
She’s my best friend. The woman I’m in love with.
