I stormed down the hallway and headed to my bedroom.
“Carson.”
I slammed my door and locked it.
Five
Carson
Charlie and I didn’t talk for days.
Which was pretty difficult since we lived together and worked together.
Sometimes I had the urge to talk to him about my article or something that happened that day, but then I remembered we weren’t talking, and then I grew too stubborn to say anything because he needed to apologize.
But I wasn’t sure if he was going to.
I was just about to leave the office when a text message popped up on my phone, from Boy Toy #2.
Want to get a drink?
I hadn’t thought about him much, especially after my fight with Charlie. Our falling-out had consumed me every non-work hour of the day. I didn’t have time to think about anything else. Where?
The place where we met.
I’ll meet you in twenty minutes. I could use a drink right now. And sex would definitely help.
I left the office and arrived at the bar ten minutes later. I wasn’t in a black dress like last time, but rather a tight pencil skirt and a blouse, with heels. Even though we were just at our cubicles all day, it was still important for us to look professional since our articles were so respected by everyone in the country. But if I had it my way, I’d be in jeans and a top.
I found him sitting alone in a booth, drinking a scotch even though it was barely five. He was in jeans and a t-shirt, his muscular arms propped on the table. His beard had grown in, and now he had a beautiful shadow along his jawline. His eyes were the same color as the booze in his glass.
I smiled as I approached the table. The glass of wine was in front of my spot because he remembered what I’d had last time. “I was taught not to accept an open glass from a man.” I grabbed it by the stem and brought it to my lips so I could take a deep drink. “But you can ravish me all you want.”
He smiled slightly, but just the subtle rise of his lips was sexy. “I don’t need drugs for that.”
I smiled before I swirled my glass and took a drink.
“Finished with that article?”
“Not quite. I have a few more interviews this week.”
“In back alleyways or by the docks?” he asked playfully.
“I prefer public places, like bars and restaurants. Best way not to get killed.”
“You’re probably right.” He rested his fingers on the top of his glass, shifting it slightly.
“I like a man who drinks.”
“Really?” He stared down into his glass for a while, his handsome face so cut and chiseled he had the angles to be a movie star. “I’ve been told I drink too much.”
“As long as you aren’t driving or hitting the ER for blood poisoning, what does it matter?” I took another drink, my lipstick smearing against the rim.
“How are you?”
I shrugged. “It’s been a tough week. What about you?”
He brought the glass to his mouth, took a drink, and then licked his lips. “It’s been alright. Why has yours been tough?”
I didn’t want to go into the details, especially when it shone a light on my personal problems. “Charlie and I got into a fight. We haven’t talked in a few days.”
He stared at me, his elbows on the table and his back straight. He looked so much better naked, but he didn’t look half bad in that t-shirt. It hugged his arms just right, molded to his chest perfectly. When he brushed his fingers across his jawline absentmindedly, his sexual magnetism was only heightened. “That must be difficult since you live together.”
“Yeah…a bit.”
“I was surprised to see him there last week.” He didn’t elaborate on that statement, just put it on the table.
“I’ll never be able to afford to live in Manhattan on my own. Thankfully, our salaries are enough to get us a nice place just a few blocks from the office. But I like living with him, he’s a good roommate.” I released the breath I was holding, suddenly missing him. “And a great friend.”
Dax studied me with those observant eyes, shifting back and forth slightly, catching every hint of emotion on my face. “Close friends are hard to find.”
“I know.”
“Whatever your problem is, you should try to work it out.”
The turmoil was slowly increasing in my chest, making me feel pain for the first time…in a long time. The doors were slightly cracked, and just a bit of emotional baggage peeked through. “You know…I should go talk to him right now.” I slid out of the booth and left my glass behind. “I’m sorry to take off on you.”
He got to his feet, towering over me, his hands slipping into his front pockets. “I understand.”
“Want to come over later tonight? Around eight?” I was usually in bed by ten because I had to get to the office early every morning.
He was quiet as he considered it, looking into my face like the question was surprising to him. He pulled his hand out of his pocket before he rubbed his fingers across his stubble. “Sure.”
“Great.” I stepped closer to him and gave him a soft kiss on the mouth. “And thank you for the drink.”
When I got home, Charlie had just gotten out of the shower. With a towel around his waist, he saw me in the hallway on the way to his bedroom then pretended like I didn’t exist. He shut his bedroom door a little harder than necessary.
I took a deep breath before I followed him. “Charlie—”
“Whoa.” He quickly pulled up his sweatpants, covering his junk. “Jesus Christ, knock.”
“I’ve already seen it, so whatever. It’s nice, but I’m not interested, alright?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
He grabbed the towel off the floor and rubbed it over his hair, giving it a quick dry before he tossed it back on the floor.
“You’ve seen me at least twice.”
“Not on purpose.”
“Well, this wasn’t on purpose.”
“You saw me walk into my bedroom in nothing but a towel. What did you think was going to happen?”
“I wasn’t really thinking about that, alright? You’re like a woman to me.”
Both of his eyebrows jumped up on his face.
“You know what I mean. There’s zero attraction here.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless and in his sweatpants. He had a muscular body, a hardness that Kat had described countless times. He had a handsome face, a fit body, and a good job…so he was a very desirable bachelor. “What do you want, Carson?”
“I-I wanted to talk about our conversation.”
He bowed his head and stared at the floor for a while.
“I miss you. I miss my friend.”
He closed his eyes for a second. “I miss you too. I’m sorry I attacked you like that.”
I’d been hoping for an apology, but it wasn’t required for me to forgive him.
“I just worry about you. That’s all.”
“I know you do, and I appreciate it.”
“I’m concerned you’re so afraid of getting hurt that you’ll never have a meaningful relationship again, and you’re gonna keep doing this for years…until it’s too late.”