I was about to argue, but his face hardened, and I knew he wouldn't be swayed in this.
He led me out and back to the hallway before we entered another room. This was smaller, clearly a staff room. He had his hand on the small of my back as he led me over to an empty chair and gestured for me to take a seat. And then he went to the small white fridge and grabbed a gel pack out before coming back to me and taking a seat in front of me.
He reached out and curled his big hand around my wrist. It seemed so small in his grip, and I hissed out when he placed the cold pack on my knuckles.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmured but kept the pack on and didn’t let go of me, which was fine by me. My hand might’ve been getting cold, but my body was heating up.
We sat in silence for the longest time, but I felt like there was something on his mind. I was staring at the ice pack he kept pressed to my knuckles, too afraid to say anything and break the quiet.
“Let me take you out, Amelia.”
My breath caught, and I snapped my head up. My heart was racing, slamming against my ribs. Could he hear it? God, it sounded like a war drum in my head. “W-What?” I cleared my throat and sat up straighter.
He gave me a crooked smile that looked way too sexy on his face. “Yeah. Dinner. Or a movie. Anything you want.”
I looked back down at my hand. In my head, I was screaming, Yes, yes! God, yes, Braxton. But my lips refused to say the words. I’d never felt so nervous, not even when I glanced up and realized Braxton was my instructor today.
“Amelia?” His voice was soft but lulling, and I lifted my head to stare into his eyes. Was he… holding his breath, waiting for my answer? “I’d really love it if you let me take you out.”
Could you pass out if you were sitting down?
“Surely…” He paused and looked down, rubbing the back of his head with his hand before looking up at me again. “Surely you’ve seen me watching you every Sunday while you play the piano?”
My throat tightened.
“And the way I couldn’t stop staring at your mouth while we trained.” His voice dropped even lower, sounding like a growl. “And I know,” he said deeper, lower, “I know you felt what I was sporting when you were pressed up against me. I know you saw it.” His voice was a husky purr, and I felt it all over my body.
I was bouncing my leg up and down. Up and down. My hands started shaking. Adrenaline raced through my bloodstream. I felt my cheeks get hot, but I never broke his stare.
“Let me take you out,” he said again and leaned in a little closer, so close I felt his warm, minty breath move along my lips. He dipped his eyes to my mouth, and I almost licked them under the hard onslaught of desire inside me.
“Okay,” I whispered, and he slowly—God, so slowly— brought his eyes up and back to mine. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to make that first move.
But instead, he leaned back, and I exhaled sharply, realizing I'd been holding my breath. If this was how it was with Braxton without any real physical contact, how in the hell would I survive anything more?
7
Braxton
One week later
When Amelia suggested Virgin Street Diner to eat at, I thought she’d been joking, seeing as she worked there. And of course I knew that, not because Cherry Falls was such a small town the gossip was hard to ignore—which was true, but not in this case.
I knew where she worked, because I had made it my business to know everything about her. I supposed that's what obsession did to a man.
That's what being in love does.
I picked her up at her place twenty minutes before, and I tried like hell not to keep looking at her sitting in the passenger seat of my pick-up. Obviously, I was failing miserably, but I wasn’t even mad about it.
I pulled the truck into the parking lot of the diner, found a spot, and shut off the engine. For a moment, we just sat there, the silence heavy and growing even more so by the second.
“I’m surprised you wanted to come here.”
“I know,” she said softly and wore the prettiest smile I’d ever seen. “Seeing as I work here, you’d think I’d want to avoid this place at all cost on my free time, but I love the food and the whole vibe of the diner.” She shrugged and looked out the window, and I couldn’t help but stare at her profile. Her features were so feminine, so delicate. I wanted to stroke my fingers along the bridge of her nose and trace her high cheekbones. I wanted to touch her full, soft-looking lips to see if they felt like silk as they appeared to.
I want to hold her close, tip her head back with my thumb and forefinger on her chin, and lean down to kiss her. I want to kiss her like it’s the first time we’ll ever experience anything so bone-deep, so powerfully electric.
“Unless you don’t want to eat here?” she asked, and I blinked, clearing my thoughts from where they’d been. “I’m really fine with anywhere.”
I shook my head. “Th-This place is good.” I had to clear my throat as it sounded thick and a little unclear from where my thoughts had been going. She went for her door, but I stopped her by saying, “Let me get that for you.” I wanted to do this right, be a gentleman, show her how attentive I was.
I was out of the truck and rounding the front when I glanced at her through the front windshield. She was watching me with this little smile curling the corners of her mouth, and fuck did I like her looking at me like that.
I opened the passenger door and held my hand out for her to take. As soon as she slipped her much smaller palm along mine, a jolt of pleasurable awareness slammed into me. I controlled myself enough that I didn’t suck in a sharp breath at the contact. I did pretty damn well with not groaning in pleasure.
Once she was out of the truck with the door shut behind her, I couldn’t move, could only stare down at her and feel something swirl around me. It had the hairs on my arms standing on end and my body tightening almost painfully.
“Ready?” That lone word was gruff as I forced it past my lips.
She nodded and licked her lips before glancing away, but she wasn’t fast enough that I didn’t catch the color deepening her high cheekbones.
We headed toward the front doors, and I picked up my pace as I reached out to grab the handle and pull the door open for her.
“Thank you,” she murmured and ducked her head again, the long fall of her dark hair becoming this curtain that obscured her face from me. I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and tucked the strands behind her ear, my fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek, then sliding over the shell of her delicate little ear. She snapped her head up, and our gazes clashed, locked. I took a sharp, sudden breath in and forced myself not to fuck this up. Taking liberties with Amelia this early, thinking I had any right to touch her, even if it was putting a lock of her gorgeous hair behind her ear, might be offensive to her and crossing lines.
She walked ahead of me, and I followed her in, the instant sound of ’50s era music filtering overhead through speakers. Virgin Street Diner was like a blast from the past, with a ’50s theme that made you think you’d just been transported back to another time. The booths were outfitted with vinyl gray-and-red seats. The tables were stainless steel, the flooring black-and-white-checkered tile.