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Just looking at the list of foods makes me nauseous. Getting the medicine is definitely the top priority.

Fortunately, Braxton must sense this as well, because he tugs the prescription from my fingertips, wraps his hand around my bicep and tugs me out the door. “Let’s go. We’ll get you something to drink and the medicine on our way to my place.”

Chapter 4

Braxton

The urge to pull Cara into my arms and reassure her everything will be okay pulses beneath my skin, but I fight it back.

Every damn time she starts to become vulnerable, she throws our night in my face. How am I supposed to care about someone when she makes it so damn apparent she despises the time we spent together?

Shame, because while she regrets fucking me, besides her sudden change in opinion on that Sunday morning, Cara had been the best I could ever remember having. It wasn’t just physical, although that definitely surpassed any expectations I had when she first suggested we head to my room. Our connection went beyond physical. Beyond mental. Something happened when she was so close to me and even with my hand on her back, trying to comfort her, I still feel it.

Which makes me the fool. If Cara showed one hint of wanting another go at me, I’d probably trip over my shoes in my hurry to kick them off and get us naked, even knowing she’d regret it afterward.

The car ride to my building is relatively quiet other than the jazz music playing from my playlist and the infrequent protests Cara made early on.

I shut her down with a firm scolding. “It’s my kid too and you might not be okay with this, but I take care of my responsibilities. You’re staying at my place and I’m not discussing it further.”

Her pale blue eyes had gone wide and she’d turned her head away, meekly replying, “Okay.”

It’s the last word she spoke.

Now, pulling into my spot at the John Ross building where I’ve recently bought a penthouse level condo, Cara makes a squeaking sound from the passenger seat.

“You live here?” And her tone isn’t kind or surprised, more shocked mixed with disbelief.

In all the things Jenna and Dan told me about Cara Thompson, neither mentioned her being judgmental. Mostly it was all good things, her artistic abilities and desire to make a living creating art. Her bubbly personality. All of it was so damn spectacular in person, I must have missed something.

Disappointing.

“Yep.” I’m snippier than I should be, but I’m losing the ability to care. A lot of people see a man covered in tattoos and thinkthug.Cara never showed me this side of her and the surprise in her voice reeks of judgment.

Perhaps I’ve had her pegged all wrong from the beginning. Or she fooled the hell out of me at the wedding.

“Business must be doing well.”

With my jaw clenched, I keep my mouth shut and grab the prescription we picked up on our way and open my door. I slam it harsher than I intend, the sound echoing in the underground garage. I’m at her door, opening it just as she does the same.

I grip her elbow, holding her steady, and guide her to the elevator where I enter my keycard.

She must notice my irritation because she brushes her dark brown hair off her shoulder and tugs her elbow out of my grip. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she rubs her arms as if she needs to keep warm.

For once, I don’t bother trying to help her.

“Did I say something wrong?”

You know, this morning, I was a guy, slightly hungover, more slightly regretting the pretty little redhead I took home from a bar last night. She’d been a gymnast. She hadn’t disappointed me in the least with her flexibility or her strength.

I woke up, gave her a kiss, and tapped her backside as I escorted her out the door to her waiting Uber, knowing I’d never see her again. Then I went to work thinking it was going to be another completely boring Friday.

The last thing I expected was this girl in front of me, so innocent and spectacularly sexy in my memories, to show up, proclaim I’d gotten her pregnant, puke all over my office, and faint in my arms only to spend six hours taking care of her. All so she can continue apologizing and acting like her life is over because some asshole who owns tattoo parlors ruined her one brief night of sexual irresponsibility.

Fuck this.

The door opens and I step in, leaving Cara behind me. It goes against every instinct I have, but screw her.

When I turn around, she’s still outside the lift, eyes wide. “Coming?”