Emma Chase (14 page)

*****

Braden gets in his car. He’s turning the key in the ignition when his phone rings.

He pulls out his phone, seeing, ‘Les Calling.’

He smiles down at it and swipes the screen.
  “Yo!”

“Hey, brother!
  We’ll be in Charlotte for a gig this weekend.  Was thinkin’ we’d come to Holts and have a few beers with you.”

“Yeah, come on down.
  Y’all perform a few of your hits and it’s free drinks on me for the night.”

“We’ll do even better that that if you’ll get up and sing with us.”

Braden smiles.  “I can do that.”

Chapter Thirteen

Emma

It is Thursday night and I just got home from another workout with Tristan.
 

Since our first self-defense class, I’ve been back three times.
  He offers a kickboxing class that really does kick my ass. 

I am still in my
workout gear—a yellow camisole over white sports bra and black stretchy, clingy Capri pants.   It’s the beginning of November and I wasn’t cold in this outfit—that’s how kickass the workout that Tristan offers is.

 
I am sitting on a barstool, rummaging through our mail, trying to decide if dinner or a shower is in order.  I am sweaty, so I am seriously considering that shower. 

I go to the fridge and get a bottle of water, twisting the cap off and draining it dry.

It’s been six days since my date with Braden.  I can’t help but worry about how he’s handling how I reacted the other night in my bed.  I was so humiliated that, for the past six days, I’ve avoided him like the plague. 

He had to work a double shift on Tuesday because Holts was short staffed.
  Scheduling conflict.  Yesterday I dodged him by telling him I wasn’t feeling well.  I lied, told him I didn’t want to get him sick, so it was best for him to stay away. 

He told me he would bring me lunch today.
  I lied again.  Told him I was meeting with Holly on her lunch break since we haven’t spent much time together now that I am back to work.  Since I felt bad about lying to him, I made it real by surprising her with lunch.  Sandwiches from Main Street Deli around the corner from her office.  

I know he was scheduled to work tonight and I needed the break.
  My head was so screwed up after we woke that morning.  All day, thoughts ran through my head about how Braden may be handling what happened.  Did I finally scare him away with that little episode?  Never mind the fact that he’s been trying to see me every day since. 

I really am a nut.

Obviously I don’t want my head to be all screwy, but lately I haven’t been able to help it.  Things in me have changed.

Good things and bad things.
  The good is that I am starting to live my life again.  My friendship with Olivia has been mended, and I have to admit that it’s great having her back in my life. We also work really well together. 

Holly and Olivia are around a lot.
  The two of them have become good friends as well, which is a big bonus.  I like having them both around.

The bad is that I am having nightmares, which are keeping me from a good night’s sleep, which is making me feel like a zombie.
  The only good night’s sleep I’ve had in months was the other night in Braden’s arms, and that scares the shit out of me.

I am about to get up and head for the shower when there is a knock at the door.
  My eyebrows pull together as I stare at the door.  I look over to my purse before pulling my phone out and checking it.  No messages or missed calls saying anyone was stopping by.

I step down from the stool, put my phone on the counter, and move to the door.
  I see that the deadbolt is locked, something I made a conscience effort to do immediately after entering the apartment.

I peer through the peephole, which gives me a view of the hallway and a view of his profile.
  His eyes are focusing on the wall next to the front door.

I unlock the door and open it to see Braden in his sexy-as-hell dark jeans, his sexy-as-hell long-sleeved chocolate-colored tee, his sexy-as-hell boots, and his sexy-as-hell black Under Armour baseball cap pulled down just to give a hint of his sexy-as-hell dark brown eyes.

He is carrying a six-pack of beer, a bottle of chardonnay, and a bag from El Chili Rojo. 

“Dinner,” he smiles, pushing past me into the apartment.
 

I turn and watch him as he sets the food and the beer on the coffee table.  He walks in the kitchen, digs around in the drawers, finds the corkscrew, and opens some cabinets, locating a wine glass and bringing everything to the coffee table.

He sits on the couch, pops the cork, pours a glass of wine, twists the cap off of a beer, and rummages through the El Chili Rojo bag.

I shut the door, lock the deadbolt, and watch him as he unloads the contents from the bag.

“Dinner?” I repeat.

His eyes lift to me and he winks.
  “One carne adovada and a chicken taquito.” 

I walk to the living room, round the coffee table, and plop on the couch next to him. I look down at the food spread on the table.  “I thought you had to work tonight,” I say tearing open my carne adovada.

He studies me for a second, takes a pull of his beer, and shakes his head. “Juice needed the shift.
  He rambled on and on about his new money pit of a car, so I gave it up to him.” 

“Oh.
  So that means I get dinner?”

Braden nods.
  “That means you get dinner and some company.”

“Braden…“ I start, turning my head away.
  “We have to talk.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We need to talk,” he says reaching out, his thumb stroking my cheek, and my body tenses.
 

I knew it was coming.
  The disappointment from trying to get involved with me again now that so much has happened.  Now that I’m this mess that he obviously saw the other night.  I couldn’t dodge him forever. He is reconsidering his feelings for me.   He saw how screwed up I actually am now and he’s ready to hightail it out before shit gets too deep.  Who could blame him really?

 
“Let’s talk.” I stand up. To go where, I have no clue.

I think I make it all of two steps before he clips me around the waist and drags me back to his body.
  I slam into the wall of his chest and immediately there is a warmth  emitting from his body.

I look back and up to meet his eyes and open my mouth to speak but he beats me to it.

“We need to discuss where we are in this relationship,” he says close to my ear.

He turns me so that I am facing him. I slowly blink, trying to process whatever is going on here.
  His eyes roam my face and his hands tighten on my shoulders.

“Okay,” I whisper back.

“I know that you’re scared out of your mind with what’s going on here.  I told you I wasn’t going to be pushed away again.  You told me some crazy shit the other night, how you broke up with me to protect me from the life that your father imposed on you.  I get that, but, Em? Things are going to go differently this time.”

I stare at him with my mouth open.
  What is he talking about?  He should be running in the other direction. 

“This”—he points his finger between the two of us—“is the real deal.
  We’re going to see this through this time.  You think you can walk out of my life like you did months ago?  After what happened between us the other night?  Yeah, that’s not going to happen again.  If you’re thinking of giving me my walking papers already, save your breath.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“The other night—“

“Was amazing and I won’t let that crazy head of yours turn it to shit,” he interrupts.

“But—“

“Don’t mistake me for just some fucking guy,” he gripes.

My stomach drops and I whisper, “But I thought you were going to be done with me once you saw me freak.”

His eyebrows draw together and his face twists. “I can’t believe that you would think that fucking low of me after everything.  After I took care of you and got you the job, and after the other night—what we shared at dinner.  Jesus, Em, get your head out of your ass!”

I quickly pipe up, “No, that’s not it!”

“How is it then?”

“Things were good with us.”

“Yeah.”

“And things got all screwed up.”

“So?”

I drop my head.
  “I don’t know.”

Branden lifts my chin with his finger, tilting my head up to look at him. “I know that the other night we reconnected.
  You and I found our way back to each other.  I know you’re still working this shit out that happened to you.  Your life hasn’t been easy and yet here you are—“
“Shut up, Braden.”  My eyes slide away to look at the wall.

“I can’t do that, baby.
  Look at me.”

My gaze moves back to him. “I know you think you are defeated, but you’re not.
  I saw you at your worst.  Do you wanna know what I see when I look at you?”

Oh God.
 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

I try to turn my head, but he cups my cheek to stop me.

 
“I see a beautiful woman who was dealt a shitty hand, stared down evil, told it to fuck off, and rose from hell.  You
have
to see that.” He brings his mouth to my forehead and whispers, “You have to see that.  Only then will you come out of this hell that you keep reliving over and over.”

My breath hitches.
  I close my eyes and bringing my arms around his neck.

“You feel me, baby?”

All I can do is nod. 

He caresses my back, giving me a moment to take in all he just laid out for me, and cinches his fingers into my hair.

My mind is reeling with so many questions.  How can he possibly see all of this in me when I can’t see it myself?  How can he think I am strong enough to overcome all of this when I’m breaking down on the inside?  Sure, it’s gotten easier over the past few months, but still.

He turns me so that my back is pressed to his front slides me off his lap to the seat next to him. He reaches over the table, bringing the glass of wine to me.
  “Em, drink your wine and eat your carne adovada.”

“Fine,” I sigh.
  “So bossy.”

He shakes his head again and smiles.

I drink a sip of wine before setting it on the table.  I grab my food and a plastic fork and shovel a bite in.

“Tristan tells me you’re taking more classes with him.
  He also tells me that you’re gettin’ pretty good.”

I nod my head and swallow. “I think I’m learning a lot.
  I flipped him over my shoulder earlier today.”

Braden’s eyes shoot up.
  “My baby’s a little badass, huh?”  He leans in and nudges me with his elbow.

A giggle escapes me.
  A freaking giggle.  Oh God! I take another sip of wine.

“So there’s a great band playing Saturday night at Holts.
  I know you don’t have to work, so I was hoping you’d come.  Bring Olivia and Holly.  Make it a ladies’ night kinda thing.”

I haven’t seen a decent band play around here—ever.
  Hell, most of the bands that are any good play in bars in Spartanburg or Greenville, not Tryon.

“Have I heard of them?”

Braden smiles as if he is letting me in on a little secret.  “Crossfade.”

My eyes practically bug out of my head.
  Did he just say Crossfade?  They are only one of my favorite bands.  No freaking way. I put my plate on the table, dropping my fork on my plate.

 
“No freaking way!”

He smiles again.
  “Yes freaking way.  Les the lead—“

“Guitarist!
  I know who Les is!”  My God, I am damn near panting.

“Anyhow, he’s an old buddy of mine.
  They have a concert in Charlotte and planned to stick around for a couple of days.  Back in the day, before they made it big, I was able to hook them up with some gigs at a few venues that I have connections with, so when I asked if they’d play at Holts, they were more than happy to do it.”

Oh my God!
  I think I’m going to hyperventilate.   And that’s exactly what I tell him.

“Oh my God!
  I think I’m going to hyperventilate.”

Braden releases a deep chuckle and squeezes my knee.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that you knew Crossfade?” I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder. “First, it never came up, and second, I don’t know Crossfade.
  I know Les.”

Les is hot.

“Les is hot,” I whisper and smack both of my hands over my mouth and look down to my feet.  I have a serious case of diarrhea of the mouth tonight.

Braden tilts my head back with a finger to my chin so my eyes meet his. “Does that mean you’ll come?”

 “Of course I’ll be there!” I squeal.  Again, I cover my mouth with my hands and nodd my head affirmatively to him.

Braden lets out a low laugh.
  “Good.”

I reach for his food and beer one at a time placing them on the coffee table.
 

He puts his arms around my waist and I climb onto his lap, resting my head against his neck.
 

“I know I’m a little screwy right now,” I whisper into his ear.
  “But give me a little time.  Okay?”