What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) (14 page)

“Do you need
anything?”

“Yes, Bryant.”

Cruz frowns, it’s a
cute frown, but I don't think he meant for it to be.

“What can he do, that
I can't?”

I look away because my
best friend is just that, my best friend. At the end of the day, he's
what I need. I can't believe he left me.

“Hey,” he says in a
softer tone. “What is it that you need from Bryant?”

“Him, just him,” I
barely speak. “I need…”

“What? What do you
need, Bria?”

I turn my head away
from Cruz as I continue to speak.

“I just need Bryant
to lie with me tonight.”

I take a quick glance
in Cruz’s direction; he's wincing with his eyes closed.

“I'll call him for
you when I get to my car.”

“Okay,” I say.

I have a feeling I'm
not quite sure what it is. Maybe, it’s because I was hoping Cruz
wasn't an actual ass. I was hoping he would be the one to comfort me
tonight. Bryant will do though; he's my comfort zone. However,
tonight, I saw a side of Cruz I thought wasn’t possible for such an
arrogant asshole. He had compassion. I'm not sure if it was the fact
it was me, or because I'm a woman. Surely, not because I'm helpless.
Anyone who knows me will laugh with the words helpless and Bria in
the same sentence. I don't know; he struck something in me. Maybe he
can be a decent man when you get past the intimidating arrogance.
I'll keep my distance, but I'll observe.

The pain medication is
beginning to work; sleep is overtaking me.

I'm not going to work
this morning; the decision was made when my alarm screamed into my
ear at seven. Last night’s events came to mind. The arguments, the
injury, and the inappropriate way Cruz touched me. Oh hell, this ache
between my thighs needs to be rectified. Bryant isn't here to rectify
it; why didn't he come back? I force myself up to go to the bathroom.
I grab a crutch because the slight pinch of pain I felt when my foot
hit the floor, tells me that assistance is needed. When I get into
the bathroom, I notice my bedroom door is open. I seriously have to
go, so I don't even bother to hobble over to close it. No one is here
but me. Before the thought leaves my mind, I hear movement and I look
up to see Mr. Pool Guy. Cruz is standing in my bathroom staring. No,
scratch that, gawking at me while I'm on the toilet.

“Oh, my God! Get
out!” I grab the nearest thing, which happens to be a roll of
toilet paper, and launch it at him. He catches it and laughs.

“Nice arm, honey.”

“Get out, Cruz!”

“Okay, but are you
good to get up?”

“I got down here! Get
out!”

He turns his back,
while he's laughing. I'm sitting there pulling at the T-shirt I have
on, which catches my attention. How did I get out of my clothes last
night?

He peeks his head
around the corner again.

“Hey, are you working
from home this morning?”

“Yes! Please, can I
have some privacy?”

“Do you mind if I
make breakfast? You really need to eat. You didn't eat much last
night and the medicine you're taking requires food.”

“Go ahead, Cruz. I
don't really care. Just give me some privacy.” I’m irritated,
he's not looking in at me, but I know he's still here.

“Cruz!”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you still
standing there?” He pops his head back in and stares at me.

“I don’t think I
can find you sexier than right now.”

“Ugh, get out!”

He laughs; it’s kind
of an infectious one. I cover my face with my palms, as I let out a
giggle. “Ass,” I say quietly.

I hobble back to my
bedroom to grab the other crutch. I make my way to the kitchen area.
“Can I help with anything?”

Cruz looks me up and
down, and then shakes his head.

“Are you sure? I can
crack eggs or something.”

“Yes, or something,
stay off that foot,” he says in a low tone. I hobble to the island
where Bryant forced his mouth on me a few nights ago. The thought of
that moment is doing nothing for me right now. Usually, I get a
little warm thinking of Bryant and my sex-sessions. Wow, the brain
usually stimulates the body to react to such a thing. Psychology 101.

“Shit!” I yelp.
Cruz turns quickly to assess what I'm doing. He walks over, takes one
of the crutches to help me sit on the stool. Something so simple has
rendered me… Oh no. There it is; I'm helpless. The thought quickly
diminishes when I feel how gentle his touch is. I hold on to his arm,
so I don't take a dive again. This man is large; he's standing at six
feet looking down on me with an irritated, but concerned look in his
eye.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I'm fine now,
thanks.” Cruz’s arms look well sculpted up close; he's a
well-built man. Remembering him in the pool melts me into one. I
still hold on to him as he stares at me with those devious eyes.

“Are you sure you're
okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” I snap
out of whatever it was I was in. “I don't take medicine often.”

“Yeah, why?” He
walks back into the kitchen to whatever he's cooking.

“It alters your
habits and thinking.”

“You read that
somewhere?” He turns and asks holding the spatula in his hand. All
I can think about is the Naked Cook. OH MY GOD, why am I thinking
about this man naked? I've already seen parts of him, which stick out
in my mind...
Figuratively
speaking.

“I did.”

“Do you believe it?”
He turns and flips something in the pan.

“I do,” I respond
with his back turned to me.

“So do I. I just
wanted to know what you thought. I never want to take a drug to alter
my natural ability to do things.”

I side-eye him. I can
see that he's paused. He turns to me, as I give him a “really, is
that so” look.

“What?”

“I didn't say
anything.”

“I know what you're
thinking?”

“No, you don't,” I
goad him.

“I do, but I have my
reasons for giving Morgan that pill.”

“Why? I need to know
what possessed you to do that to him.”

“You,” Cruz simply
says.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you possessed
me. Morgan doesn't deserve you.”

“What? That's crazy.”

“Maybe, but he takes
your friendship for granted.”

“No, he doesn’t,
Cruz.”

“He does,” he says
as he hands me a plate with an omelet, toast, and potatoes on it. I
look at the food and back up to him.

“What? I didn't do
anything to your food, Bria.”

“I didn't insinuate
that you did, Cruz.”

“You did, with a
questioning eye.”

“Here, look.” He
stabs the omelet with a fork, and chews it vigorously. He repeats the
same thing with the potatoes.

“That doesn't prove
anything.” I laugh at his actions.

He laughs back. “You
are something else.”

He replaces a fork with
another. I don’t mind if we use the same fork. I’m guilty with
wanting to know what it tastes like. That’s when I remember his
kiss and I stare at him curiously. He sits next to me after he grabs
his breakfast. I take the fork he replaced and start to eat. I can't
believe I let this man in my house, and his omelet is great. I lose
my train of thought as I hum in acceptance.

“Good, huh?”

“Yes, it is.”

He nods in agreement.

“What happened to
Bryant last night?”

“I don't know. I
texted and called him. He didn't respond until about four this
morning. I was already here, so—”

“You stayed?”

“Yeah, was that a
problem?”

“No. Well, now it's
not.”

“What do you mean
now?” he chuckles.

“I mean my clothes
are changed, and you were in my house all night.”

“No, not true. I went
to my car to leave after you fell asleep to wait for Mr. Loverboy to
call back. When he never did, I came back in. When he did finally
decide to call… I undressed you after I knew he wasn't coming
back.”

“Wait, how did you
get back in? And you removed my clothes?”

“Never locked the
door. I was going to sit outside until Morgan showed, and yes.”
Cruz smiles devilishly.

“You, fucking perv!”
I push him from the seat and fall over in the process. He catches me.

“Honey, I'm going to
see you naked anyway. I just figured it would be less awkward when I
do lay hands on you,” he chuckles. I smack his chest as he's still
holding on to me.

“Let go!”

“Why?” Cruz
questions.

I do not say anything;
I look away from him, because looking at this person makes me feel
naked and lightheaded.

He leans over and
whispers in my ear.

“Honey, your body is
telling me things your mouth can't handle. You may as well give in to
the truth.”

I pull away, and
struggle to sit back on the barstool.

“Cruz, why did you
tell Bryant you were going to fuck me?”

He almost spits out his
orange juice and looks over at me.

“He told you that?
Wow, that guy's got it bad.”

“Yeah, the night you
gave him the pill.”

He laughs and shakes
his head. “I did say that; we were both drunk out of our asses. You
think he believed me?”

“I don't know; he
hasn't mentioned it anymore.”

The look on Cruz’s
face is one I cannot describe.

“You really did fuck
him that night, didn't you?”

My head is down. I'm
not sure why. I'm not embarrassed for sleeping with Bryant. It's how
Cruz makes me feel about the situation.

“Your non answer
tells me enough.”

I’m still silent as
he grabs his empty plate and gets up from the breakfast bar.

“Are you done?” he
asks.

I am. My appetite has
left me again.

“Can I ask you a
question?” Cruz turns to look at me so we are facing each other.

“Go ahead, Bria, try
to pick my brain. What do you want to know?”

“Nothing, really. I
just want to know why you care so much whether I fuck Bryant or not?”

He shrugs. “I just
do,” he replies.

“You said before you
didn’t care about this.” I point to my lap. “What’s the
difference now?”

“I never said I
didn’t care about your pussy. What I said was I didn’t care that
Mr. Lover was in the next room, and he wouldn’t be able to carry
out the task properly.”

“Hmmph, I guess you
were wrong.”

“I was, and it won’t
happen again,” Cruz retorts.

“You’re an ass,
Cruz King; what makes you think you can stop Bryant and me from
sleeping together?” He shakes his head in disgust.

“You don’t get it,
Bria, and you don’t need to get it right now.”

“What the fuck is
that supposed to mean?”

“You know for a
female, you have a foul mouth.”

“Has it ever occurred
to you that you’re the reason for my foul mouth?”

“Yeah, actually, it
did occur to me; but how filthy does it really get?” he laughs.
“You have anger issues.” Cruz laughs again.

“Get out!”

“This how you treat
guests when they take care of you? I cooked, cleaned, and undressed
you.” He smiles as he says that last comment. “Fine, I’m
leaving, but only because I have a few things to get done. I’ll
come check on you later. Okay, honey?”

“No, and stop calling
me that!”

“Why, it’s so
fitting.” He picks me up from the stool as if I’m a rag doll.

“Put me down, Cruz!”

“Sure I will, when
you tell me where. Bedroom or sitting room? Your call. I’m thinking
the bedroom. It’s closer to the bathroom. I can set up your laptop
for you, if you like.”

“Yes, just hurry and
put me down,” I interrupt.

“All right,” he
chuckles as he sets me down on my bed gently.

As he’s leaving my
bedroom, I hear the front door slam shut.

“Bryant?” I yell.

“Yeah, Bree, where
are you?” he says as he enters my room at the same time as Cruz is
coming back through my bathroom.

“Nice of you to
finally show, lover boy.”

“Fuck you, Cruz;
you're the one who didn't want me to take her to the ER.” Bryant’s
mad. I can hear it in his voice.

“Well, a man's gotta
do, what a man's gotta do,” Cruz retorts.

“Piss off, Cruz. I'm
not in the mood.”

“Oh, and I am?”
Cruz fires back.

“Guys!” I yell as
they stare at each other. Bryant is clearly in a piss-poor mood
because Cruz is here. And Cruz's piss-poor mood is caused by Bryant's
lack of sympathy for the situation.

“Bryant, I'm fine
now. Cruz helped me out a lot.” Bryant folds his muscular arms
across his chest, and I give an inner sigh to myself just looking at
him in the stance he's in.

“So, you two are
friends all of a sudden?” Bryant asks.

Cruz folds his even
more muscular arms across his chest and I am in awe.

“Define friends,
Morgan?” Cruz cocks his head to the side.

“You’re pushing it,
King.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, let
me push it a little further. While you were busy diving into your ex,
your best friend was waiting on you to comfort her last night. But
don't you worry your pretty boy head; I took care of that for you.”

“You, fucking perv!”
Bryant rushes Cruz; and did I mention that Cruz is a fucking wall? He
catches Bryant in a headlock, but Bryant isn't backing down. He lifts
Cruz from his feet. I sit on my bed, yelling for the two of them to
stop. But it’s too late. They both come crashing down on my bed. My
laptop is in my lap and the entire bed collapses.

“BRIA!” both of
them yell.

They both rush to try
to help me up. I'm on my side. My laptop is cracked in two. All I can
do is yell for the two of them to get out... “Now!”

They both wince and
leave the room. I muscle up enough strength to get up. I'm not hurt;
well, maybe my ego, but physically, I'm fine. “Fucking idiots!” I
yell. However, I hear my front door slam shut, so I know neither of
them heard me. One month ago, hell, one week ago, Bria Watts was not
a thought on any man’s mind. Now she is and worthy of defending?
What the hell? I look at the mess that my bed is in. My laptop is a
lost cause. I need to get to work. My computer at work doesn't have
all my files, but I can get a little accomplished today.