My breath stutters to a slow pace. I can’t tell him. I don’t want him to regard me with pity. So, I tell him half the truth. “Stacy informed me that I went viral for the singing performance I gave at the Community event.” A tired sigh escapes my parted lips.
His confused eyes search mine, “And that’s a bad thing?”
“It wouldn’t have been if it didn’t lead the senior PR team to think that it’d be a great idea to use the attention on me and divert it onto the team projecting it in a good light.” The thought alone infuriates me.
“They’re forcing you?” The lick of anger in his tone brings a little smile to my face.
My fingers reach out, and I smooth his furrowed brows. “Not in so many words, no. But if I disagree, it’ll come across as arrogant and uncooperative, both of which would not aid my career. Especially since I’m a woman in a male-dominated sport.”
“That’s bullshit,” he snaps. “Just say the word, and I’ll talk to the management. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Even though his willingness to stand up for me is like a balm to my aching heart, I stand firmly against the idea. “No. I don’t want you talking on my behalf. I’ve come this far on my own; I can handle a few videos.” I squeeze his shoulders, hoping he’ll believe me.
“But–”
“No.”
With a reluctant sigh, he agrees. “Fine. I won’t. But you know I’m right here. Just one word.”
“I know,” I nod and peck his lips. That seems to settle him a little.
We spent the rest of the night cuddling, which was as bizarre as it was comforting. Though he did run out and get me a tub of ice cream, and some comfort food to munch on while binging a show on the television.
If someone had told me a few months ago that Ezra could be so attentive and gentle, I’d have laughed in their faces. But now, I wonder how I never saw it.
He has me utterly under his influence. And as much as it scares me, not getting to experience this side of him scares me even more.
So, even though the warning bells are blaring in my mind, my heart wins, and I burrow myself in his warm side as the curtains of sleep fall over me.
* * *
“Delivery!”
The next evening, Ezra shows up at my door again with take-out.
“Come in.” With a roll of my eyes, I let him in,a small smile playing on my lips compared to his broad one.
“What were you up to? Looking good by the way,” he asks, giving me a once over and so easily complimenting me as he strolls into my kitchen and takes out the plates with such ease as if he lives here.
I freeze, remembering what I’m wearing. I forgot that I was in a pink hoodie. “I do?” I voice, daring him to make fun of me for wearing pink.
But he again surprises me when he says, “Mhmm. Pink suits you. You should wear it more often.” When I don’t speak a word and stare at him, dumbfounded, he glances up at me again. “Why don’t you, though?” he genuinely asks, rummaging around the kitchen for spoons.
“I–Becau…” I fumble as his question catches me off guard. Getting hold of myself as he patiently waits for me to answer, I reveal. “Because people believe that they have the right to judge my color choices based on how they perceive me.”
His features instantly harden. “Who?” he growls.
“People I have cut contact with. I don’t need people’s judgment in my life.” I shrug.
“Good girl. Now, wear as much pink as possible,you fucking rock in it,” he compliments with a wink, and I fucking melt.
He doesn’t realize how much his words mean to me when all my life, people have tried to bring me down.
So, with a hopeful heart, I sit on the chair at the dining table and power on my laptop again as I reply to the other question he asked when he came in. “I was just creating some content and editing some clips,” I say with a tired sigh.
“You are? Cool.” His head bobs.
I stretch the aching muscles in my neck because of being in front of the screen for so long. “Mhmm.”
