I’m not mad though, because she’s only sticking up for herself, showing me that she cares about me. She wants me to know she denied going on a date with him and there aren’t even words to describe how elated I am to hear that.
“I know. It’s not that. I’m hungry, tired and could use some time with you, is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” She stands and starts to gather her stuff up. Looping her purse over her shoulder, we walk to the elevator together. We ride down to the first floor where I find my assistant at her desk.
“Barbara, cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day, please,” I tell her as I head for the glass doors.
“Of course, Mr. Westbrook,” she replies, no questions asked, and I make a mental note to give her a raise.
We get into my car minutes later. The sound of the engine barely audible as I pull out of the parking lot. I clench my jaw and grip the steering wheel like it’s Jake’s throat. Damn him. If he hadn’t gone and asked her out, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Ha, yeah, we would, because one taste, one stroke deep inside her, was never going to be enough for me. I knew better when I took her that first night, but I told myself I could handle taking one nibble, one little morsel.
Her sweet scent tickles my nostrils, pulling me from my mundane thoughts. The silence inside the car is deafening. I know I have to tell her what I told Jake, but I’m worried. Is she going to freak out? Tell me she hates me? End us before we even have a chance to start? Before I can stop myself, my mouth is open and the words flicking off my tongue.
“I told Jake that we are together, and I do mean boyfriend and girlfriend.” I don’t even realize that I’m holding my breath until she finally answers and the air in my lungs bursts from my mouth.
“You did?” She sounds surprised, but not in a bad way. Her soft voice carries into my ears and there’s a tinge of joy mixed in too as if she is happy about my admission. Is this what she wants? I had always assumed she wanted a no-strings relationship, but from the way it sounds, she wants more, and I can’t blame her, because I do too.
“Yes, I didn’t like him hitting on you and yes, I know I’m a hypocrite. I’m sorry about talking to you about jealousy when I have no room to talk at all. I get it, so you don’t have to rub it in my face. But I’m not playing nice. I can’t stand to see you with anyone else, and if I’m not going to let you go, then I’m going to keep you.”
“But we had an agreement… you said you didn’t want to hurt me, that you couldn’t do a relationship.”
I did say all those things, but that was before. Before I realized someone as dumb as Jake could come along and rip her out from underneath me. She doesn’t belong with a douche like that, she belongs with me, her best friend, a man that knows her inside and out.
“Fuck what I said. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll make it work, but I’ll be damned if I watch you be with someone else, and especially not someone like Jake.”
“What’s wrong with Jake?” I can hear the playfulness in her voice.
“Well, for starters, he’s not me.” I glance across the car at her. “And he’s not good enough for you. In my eyes, no one will ever be good enough.”
Pausing, I turn my attention back to the road.
“And you are? Good enough for me?” It’s a genuine question, not a statement.
“No, probably not. But I’ll try to be. I can’t promise you that I’ll ever change my mind on kids and marriage. But I can promise you that I will try. There isn’t a bone inside me that isn’t on board with giving you the best version of myself. I’m sure I’m going to fuck up along the way, but when I do, I’ll do whatever I can to make it right.”
Bailey grows quiet beside me, fuck, maybe I should’ve just kept my stupid mouth shut. Our arrangement wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was better than the alternative: losing her altogether. I’m seconds away from apologizing and telling her that I take back whatever I said when she finally starts to talk again.
“I want to be with you, in whatever way we can be together right now, but I can’t promise you that one day I won’t want more.”
“I know… and you have every right to want more and I won’t ever hold you back from attaining the things that you want.” I pause, wondering if this is what I’m doing right now. Am I holding her back? Am I so selfish that I rather keep her at arm’s length than seeing her happy with someone else? No, I’ll make her happy, no matter the cost.
Shaking that thought away, I continue. “You deserve to get everything out of life that you can. You above everyone else deserve to be happy and I swear I’ll do everything in my power to do that for you, in whatever ways I can.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as she unbuckles her seatbelt. Pressing up onto the center console, she leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. Even this simple, innocent gesture has my heart pounding against my ribcage. When she pulls away and returns to her sitting position, refastening her seatbelt, my skin burns like she’s left a permanent imprint behind.
“And I’ll try to make you happy too,” she whispers, and I have this sudden urge to shake her, but instead I squeeze the steering wheel once more. Doesn’t she know she’s been doing that our entire lives. Sometimes I think she is the only person who can make me happy. When I’m with her, I’m me. Not Mr. Westbrook, not the man women lust after. I’m just Elijah, her best friend, the boy who used to throw worms in her hair, and hold her in my arms when the loss of her mother got to be too much.
We pull up to my apartment and all the tiredness I felt an hour ago vanishes with the thought of having her as mine. Instead of sleeping, I have so many other things I want to do.
“Let’s go and relax for the rest of the day. How about a bath for starters?”
Bailey snorts, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. “As long as we don’t fall asleep in the tub and flood the place, I’m on board.”
“Oh, there won’t be any sleeping, Sunflower…” I smirk, shutting the car off.
* * *
After taking a long bath that ends with sex, we decide to make some dinner instead of eating out like we usually do. Neither one of us is great in the kitchen, Bailey having burnt her fair share of shit, and me never actually having enough time to cook meals.
Like a starved man, I can’t stop myself from devouring the image before me. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts, the hem coming to rest against her knees, making the thing look more like a dress than a shirt. Her still wet hair sticks to the fabric, and I swear she’s never looked more beautiful. She’s also never looked more fuckable. I don’t really understand the appeal of seeing a woman in man’s clothing, I just know that I love seeing her in mine.
We settle on a simple pasta and tomato sauce dish. The meal might not be five stars, but I don’t want to share my Sunflower with anyone else, at least not for the rest of today.
As we eat, Bailey slurps a noodle into her mouth. “I didn’t know you had it in you to cook.”
I cock a brow. “Do you really want to go there? You are notorious for burning shit.”