His chest rumbles under my touch, and my belly dips and swirls.
“Why didn’t you like her?” I prod.
“She was fake, and I don’t like fake people,” Damian answers without hesitation. I feel his steady heart beating, the rise and fall of his breaths. “She was beautiful, a great homemaker, a great cook. He brought in the money, and she took care of the home, which seemed to work for both of them. My father never learned how to clean the house or make anything more difficult than toast, letting Cynthia handle all of it, day after day.
“The problem was that Cynthia wasn’t looking to be a homemaker. She wanted to be a trophy wife, a widow, or a divorcee with a large settlement. I honestly think she would have been fine with any of them. Like I said, my father was head over heels for her. He never strayed, never cheated. He thought he was in this beautiful marriage; meanwhile, Cynthia was out there having affair after affair.”
“That had to hurt.”
“Yeah. When my father found out about her and Burke, he spun into a dark place. Not only did he lose what he thought was the love of his life, but she also took him to the cleaners financially. They had been married for ten years at that point, and even though my father was successful and wealthy before he met her, he never had her sign a prenup. She was entitled to half of everything, which she gleefully took.
“He cut ties with Burke, obviously, but because he was so wrapped up in trying to get through his divorce, he wasn’t at a place where he could take his clients and rebuild. Walter ended up with most of them, and by the time the dust had settled, I was already starting CreativEdge. My father shifted his focus from his own ambitions to helping me with mine.”
I continue to rub circles on his chest as he talks. “That was really nice of him. He must be so proud of you.”
Damian squeezes me closer to him, his arm tightening around my waist. “I think he is. He still tells me every time we talk to be careful of… getting attached.”
A light bulb goes off in my mind. Suddenly, it makes so much sense. “Is that the reason you don’t do relationships? Because of what happened with your dad’s business?”
The couch dips under our weight as Damian shifts. “It was, yeah.”
“But not anymore?”
He places his hand on top of mine, threading our fingers together, while his other hand drags along my back. A quiet breath expels from his lungs. We’re silent for so long, I don’t think he’s going to respond.
“I don’t know. I’m starting to think it may be worth the risk.”
My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t know what to say. A relationship has never been on the table.
Boss/employee.
Friends with benefits.
Just friends.
Now he thinks he might want something more. But what if I can’t give him more? I still need to think about my future, and having the reputation as someone who sleeps with her boss, whether accurate or not, is not great for my prospects.
Seconds tick by, the air heavy in my lungs.
“Damian,” I start with nowhere to go.
He lowers his head and smirks at me. “It’s okay. I should get out of here and let you rest.”
My chest deflates. “Oh, okay,” I move off him and follow him to the door. My emotions are a jumbled mess. I want nothing more than to press my lips to his, lead him into my bedroom, and see if we can recreate the spark we felt that night. It’s all I think about. All I dream about. But I’m trying to be smarter than my basest desires. When he looks at me like that, I’m not sure why I bother caring about my future at all. Not when the present feels so enticing. “Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”
“Anytime. But let’s keep you away from the stove for a while.” He smiles. I realize how much quicker his smiles are than when I first met him. How much brighter, too. He seems happier, and I hope that I have something to do with it.
“I tried to get you out of it. Anything that happened after that is on you,” I joke.
He leans in, his closeness making my mouth go dry. He places a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “So damn sassy,” he whispers.
I watch him walk down the stairs before closing the door.
“Bri, you are so screwed.” I turn around to see Holly in her bedroom doorway. “Are you guys an item now?” she asks.
“No. We’re just friends,” I tell her. “I already told you, I can’t get involved with my boss, not after what happened last time.”
She looks at the door like she’s trying to see through it, her eyes bouncing back to me. “I think that ship has sailed, boo. Besides, last time, you didn’t get involved with your boss, and rumors still swirled. If you’re going to get blamed for it anyway, you might as well get the enjoyment out of it.” She shrugs.
