Mila (Heartbreaker #3) (3 page)

Yeah, I totally blew it. Again, why does this bother me? My brother moves to stand in front of me. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I promise.” I move around him and call over my shoulder. “I’ve never been better.”

I find Nicola and baby Gabe playing on the floor. Jill is standing next to them, smiling. The kids are adorable. I sit down next to Nicola and kiss the top of her head. Gabe toddles over to me and sticks his pacifier in my face. I smile down at the handsome boy as Nicola gets up and sits on my lap. I wrap my arms around her, hugging her tight.

I rest my cheek on the top of her head and close my eyes. That pain that always lingers in my chest flares up and causes my eyes to burn. I take a deep breath, open my eyes, and find Brian watching me from across the room. I lift my head and look down at Nicola before looking back up at Brian. I move Nicola off of my lap, stand up, and weave my way through the crowd to go to the bathroom.

I close and lock the door behind me. I clench my eyes shut and lean against the door. I know he caught the moment of weakness where I let the mask slip. Of course he saw it. I feel humiliated. I walk to the sink and stare at myself in the mirror, controlling my features until even I believe I’m okay.

“You’re fine,” I whisper over and over.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my black skinny jeans and straighten my red dress shirt, which hangs down to my hips. I open the door and let out a little yelp when I find Brian standing on the other side.

Neither of us says anything as we both continue to stare. My whole body tingles as I stare up at him. He cups my cheek. I should pull away. I should let him be because I’m just going to hurt him, and I don’t want to do that.

Without thinking, I move closer until our fronts are touching. I grab his wrist and lean into his hand. A sense of peace washes through me. I let him tip my head back, and I hold my breath as he moves even closer. His lips are getting closer to mine.

I push up on my tiptoes and press my lips against his. It’s a chaste kiss, no tongue, and I grab onto his side with my free hand, holding on to him. Brian is the first one to pull away. We’re both breathing heavily as we stare at one another.

I open my mouth to speak, but he places his fingers over my lips. “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.”

The post-kiss fog fades and I watch his retreating back as he heads down the hall, back to the party. I bring my fingers to my lips and commit the feel of his lips to memory. I look where he disappeared and find Jill looking at me. “Mila, are you okay?”

“
Si
, I just had a thought about a piece for my show.” I walk toward her with my big fake smile plastered on my face. “It’s time for cake.”

I lead her back into the dining room and smile as she goes straight to my brother and wraps her arms around his waist. He looks at her with so much love it makes me envious. They traveled a long road to get to where they are now, but Jill always says she’d do it all over again.

I gather everyone, and once they all start heading into the dining room, I go into the laundry room and grab the cake. With the candles lit, I carry the cake into the dining room and we all begin to sing.

The cake has been passed out and eaten. Now people are starting to head out. Gabriel Jr. is asleep in my arms. He’s such a sweet boy, but he’s getting heavy. I rock him slowly back and forth, smiling down at his sweet little cherub face.

“Here, let me take him.” Big Gabe plucks the sleeping boy out of my arms and smiles at me before disappearing down the hall.

I make my way back to the kitchen to grab a bag to start cleaning up. I find my brother and Jill locked in an embrace. Nicola is asleep on his shoulder. I am so glad that Jill was able to forgive my brother for his horrid treatment of her. My brother was so messed up after the stuff with our dad went down, and it took a long time before my brother was back to the way he used to be.

On silent feet, I grab the garbage bag and back quietly out of the kitchen.

I hit the family room and say bye to a few people as I throw away cups and plates and straighten furniture. I make my way down the hall and find Jasmine and Brian talking in the foyer by the front door. They don’t see me right away, so I continue to watch him like a big weirdo. He’s so attentive while he talks to her. He’s a very beautiful man. I can tell it’s an inner beauty as well as outer.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been casually asking Jill about him. I haven’t asked too many questions just because I don’t want her suspecting anything. From what Jill told me, he’s dedicated to his job. He loves working with kids, especially when he’s able to find them permanent homes. I imagine some of the stuff he sees is heartbreaking, but I bet he handles it all in stride.

I blink to refocus on Brian, only to see him walking out the door. Not even thinking, I move past Jasmine, hearing her call my name as I run outside.

“Brian!” I call out. He freezes and turns to face me.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

Chapter Three

Brian

I walk into Starbucks two hours before Mila is supposed to meet me here for coffee. As I stand in line, waiting for my order, I think about last night.

I was surprised when Mila ran after me. She asked me out for coffee and then she hit me with the friend zone line. “I’m just not relationship material, but I’d like to be friends.”

I kept my face blank. I didn’t want her to see the hurt I always feel when the “friend card” is thrown at me. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have said yes to coffee, but I like Mila. I don’t know why. I guess there’s just something that draws me to her. I guess a friendship with her would be better than nothing. At least I’ll get the chance to get to know her better.

I said good-bye to her after we agreed on a time. When I got back to my house, I went into my dojo and used my nunchucks for a while until any thoughts of Mila were banished from my mind.

“Sir, your coffee.”

The sound of the barista’s voice jolts me back to the present. I grab my coffee. With my computer bag over my shoulder, I head to the corner nook and sit on the sofa. I figure I can get some work done in the quiet of this coffee shop instead of the chaotic noise of the office.

I set my laptop on my lap and start typing up a report for a family that’s going to take part in the foster-to-adopt program. They’re a couple in their mid-thirties that couldn’t conceive. After researching their options, they felt like this was a good fit for them.

Most of the time, the adoption happens, but sometimes the child will go back to their biological family. The possibility of a child returning to their family is the toughest part, but the adoptees know what they’re getting into when they sign up.

“
Ciao,
Brian.”

Startled, I look up and find Mila, who’s standing in front of me. I close my laptop and stand up, not really knowing what to do. She grabs my hand and pulls me toward her to kiss both of my cheeks.

“Hi. Here, have a seat, and I’ll get you a drink.”

She tells me what she wants. I go to the counter and order her tea.

When it’s ready, I take it back to our seat and sit down on the opposite end of the sofa. I hand Mila her cup and watch her take a sip. It’s really fucked up how sexy she looks while she sips her tea. She closes her eyes and lets out a small moan in the back of her throat that makes me want to kiss the shit out of her.

I turn toward the window so she doesn’t catch me gawking at her. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to get myself under control.

I turn back to her. “How is your day going?” Fuck, I’m lame.

“It’s very good. I finished a painting I’ve been working on this morning.” She grabs her purse and sets it in her lap, sifting through it. She pulls out an envelope. “Here. I would like it very much if you came to my first American show.”

I take the envelope and open it. Sure enough, inside is an invite to her show in a couple of weeks. “Thank you. I’ll be there. Have you always been an artist?”

“
Si.
My
mamma
says I’ve been one since I picked up my first crayon when I was three. She would take me to different art galleries back home and said that I would study each piece I looked at. I do some sculpting as well, but painting is my passion. It’s my reason for being.”

She talks with her hands a lot. She’s definitely passionate about her art, and I’m pleasantly surprised she has invited me to come. Of course, it’s just as friends, but I can certainly handle going to an art show to support a friend even if I would like for there to be more. Oh well, I’m not going to dwell on it. To be honest, it’ll take a lot of the pressure off.

“Tell me how you became a social worker. What made you want to do it?” She turns in her spot on the sofa so she’s facing me fully. I like that she’s giving me her undivided attention.

“Well, I guess the reason why I do what I do is because I was raised in foster care after my parents and sister died. I was shuffled around a lot until I found the couple that became my parents. Maggie and Jack are wonderful people, and I guess I just wanted to help kids find their own Maggie and Jack. My guidance counselor in high school helped me decide on social work and then helped me get into the University of Missouri.” Great, I’m babbling.

“I’m sorry about your family.” She reaches out and places her hand on my knee.

“It’s okay.” I place my hand over hers. “It was a long time ago. I honestly don’t remember a lot about them anymore, but I know they loved me.”

“My father passed away over a year ago. We hadn’t seen him in sixteen years.”

“Why is that?” I ask. I watch her stare blindly out the big window in front of us.

“He was having an affair and was starting a new family.” She looks at me. “He was sleeping with Nico’s wife, Ava. The worst part was she let Nico believe the baby she was carrying was his. He caught them in bed together. My father left after that and never came back. It was when Nico was trying to win back Jill’s love when Ava came to tell us our father had a heart attack. We have a half-brother and half-sister, but we don’t really know them. Sorry, I’m babbling.”

Her cheeks turn pink and she stares down at her hand, which is still resting on my knee.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you and your family. That’s shitty.” I can’t imagine what a betrayal like that must feel like.

After we both share a little of our pasts, we keep our conversation light. I wish she wasn’t so easy to talk to, but she is. Conversation flows smoothly between us and I lose all track of time, so when I pull out my cell phone I realize I need to leave.

“I’m sorry. I hate to leave, but I have a class I need to teach in about an hour.”

“What kind of class?”

“It’s called Little Kick’s. It’s a karate class for four to five year olds. We teach them a little self-defense, how to deal with bullies, and discipline.” I have always loved teaching. The kids are always so eager to learn, and it gives me a sense of pride that I’m helping bring out their enthusiasm for martial arts.

“Oh wow! Well, I won’t keep you.” We both move to stand up. “Brian, I had a wonderful time today.”

“I did too.” I lean down and kiss both of her cheeks. Her light floral scent wraps around me and I have to will myself not to bury my nose in her neck. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

With a hand on the small of her back, I lead her outside and to the parking lot. We reach her little red sedan and I open the door for her. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks at your show.”

A small smile tips up the corners of her mouth. “Okay, Brian. I’ll see you soon,” she says as she shuts her door. I watch her back out of her spot and give her a wave as she pulls out of the parking lot.

I walk toward my car and finally, after all of these years, accept the fact that I’m just never going to be anything more than a friend to any woman I’m interested in. I know it sounds like I’m giving up, but fuck, I’m only human and I can’t keep waiting for someone to realize I could be a good partner, that I want to be a good partner. I’m not a dick; I want a family and I want to make a good home for any future children I have. I sound like a fucking girl, but I don’t care. Life is too short, and I’m not going to settle for anything less than that.

Maybe I just need to stop trying so hard, and if I meet someone, I meet someone. I’m going to just go with the flow and let the chips fall where they may.

I head home to grab my
karategi
and my gym bag. I need to focus on stuff that I do have control over.

***

I pull into my parents’ driveway. After teaching my two classes today, my mom texted me, demanding I come to dinner. Of course, there isn’t much that I wouldn’t do for my mother.

I stare at the craftsman home, with its open porch, shingle siding, and stone details, that I grew up in. I always feel a sense of nostalgia when I visit. I remember the day that my social worker, Karen, brought me here. She’d told me that if things went well, the Burns’ were looking to adopt. I wasn’t going to get my hopes up, though. I was eleven when I moved in, and within six months they started the process to officially adopt me.

They told me that they didn’t expect me to call them Mom or Dad, but if I wanted to they’d love it. It seemed only natural after they adopted me that I started calling them that.

As I walk toward the front door, my dad opens the door and stands in the doorway. “Hey, son. Your mama was starting to worry. You’re late.” He pulls me into a bear hug, slapping my back. The man is still huge and has the larger than life personality to match.

When I first came to live with them, people would stare because both of my parents are African American, and I have blond hair and am clearly white, but we never saw color. They were just my parents, and I was just their son.

They had one son when they were younger, but he’d gotten sick and passed away when he was only five. They’ve never made me feel like I was a replacement for the boy they lost. Instead they’ve loved me and have given me advantages I might never have had. I went to great schools, a good college, and Dad enrolled me in karate.

As we walk further into the house, I can smell something good coming from the kitchen. “Hey, Mom,” I call as I step through the doorway. She comes toward me with a huge smile on her face.

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’m making your favorite, so go wash up and then you and your dad can set the table.” I bend down and kiss her cheek.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say. Immediately, I do what my mother asked of me.

When the table’s set and food is on the table, I watch my dad pull out my mom’s chair, kissing her as she sits down. Once they’re both sitting down, my dad says grace and then we dig into my mom’s famous chicken fried steak, gravy, and homemade mashed potatoes. In the beginning, she made food like this to try and put some weight on me. When we learned nothing she cooked was going to put too much weight on me, she kept making her big meals just because I loved the food so much.

We talk about my work and my lack of a social life, and I can tell my mom is itching to ask if I’m dating anyone or interested in somebody, but she doesn’t. Both of my parents are officially retired, but my mom works a couple of mornings a week at a coffee shop nearby. My dad retired from the post office last year and now does some woodwork in their garage. He made my entertainment center, and I swear I could take a hammer to it and it wouldn’t break.

I help my dad clean up after dinner and then join him on the back deck for beer. “Son, you’d tell us if things weren’t okay, wouldn’t you?”

“I would. I promise, things are good.” I tell him about Mila—of course not the fact that we slept together the night we met, but about the connection I feel to her. I tell him that I’ve already gotten the let’s-just-be-friends speech.

“I have no doubt that the right woman is out there waiting for you to find her. When it happens, you’ll know it. You probably don’t want her anyway if she can’t see what a wonderful man you are. When I met your mom, she wanted nothing to do with me, but I was persistent and wouldn’t give up. Forty years later and we’re happy as ever.”

We talk for a little while longer before I take my leave and head home.