Something flits across his face, yet it’s so brief I wonder if I saw it at all. “Nope. Just me.”
“I wish it was just me,” I say, staring out of the window at the peach colored sky. I haven’t had a chance to put up curtains. Living on the third floor has its perks.
“That bad, huh?”
“Worse. Being the daughter of Diego Hernandez, as you know.” I point between us, “doesn’t exactly allow me to have a normal life.”
“And you want that?” his steely gaze doesn’t leave mine.
“Doesn’t everyone?” I ask.
“I guess so.” He looks at his hands.
“I should go change.” I stand and stretch. I look over my shoulder at him. He should have a drink, loosen the fuck up.
I sip on my drink when I return, casting sideward glances at him, as he scrolls through his cell phone.
A knock on the door, startles me. Brax on the other hand doesn’t flinch, just rises and opens the door. He tips the delivery person and brings the pizza to the living room. “Plates?”
“Don’t own any yet,” I giggle, opening the box and digging in.
“I should get going,” Braxton tells me as he backs away. “See you tomorrow at seven-thirty?”
“You’re not having any?” I ask around a mouthful of cheesy goodness.
“I’m good, Eliana,” he salutes then turns to leave. I watch as he walks away, and I can’t believe I’m disappointed he didn’t stay.
