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“The better-looking brother.”

“Yeah right.”

“Hey, maybe Alexandra will want me over you.”

I glared at him, but he was laughing, ruining the effect.

“You’re so easy.”

I hoped no one else saw through me as easily as Ian did. Not that it mattered, because no way was I giving in to anything with Alexandra.

8

Alexandra

Erik hadn’t come home before I fell asleep. I stayed on the couch for a while hoping to see him, until I eventually went to the bedroom, but I’d lain awake past midnight.

His date must have been a good one.

Seeing him interact with his friends and hearing them talk about him painted him in a different light. One that had me lowering my guard. I didn’t even think about laying in front of the door this time. I’d sunk into the luxurious bed, letting the down comforter keep me warm. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt that kind of comfort.

When we’d left the office I’d been excited about getting to know him, hoping to understand the connection between the man who pinned me to the wall and laid out a terrifying future I could have to the one who smiled at his secretary and made jokes with his friends.

I wanted to get to know the latter man more.

Then he’d dropped me off at the apartment with terse instructions and left. My heart had sunk to my stomach and I’d felt foolish—naive. So, I’d gone up, changed back into the clothes he’d given me the night before and ordered a pizza, relishing every bite of the salty, greasy, heaven. Then I’d watched TV—actual cable TV. I’d lived my night like a queen. Or maybe just a girl who wasn’t poor and starving.

I hesitated to get up the next morning, wondering if I’d find him still gone. But the aroma of coffee seeped its way under my door, beckoning me to get up.

He had to be there. Unless he had a fancy machine that he could schedule. But it wasn’t a regular coffeepot. It was one of those that made it by the cup.

I yanked the covers back and ran to the bathroom, taking time to finger comb my hair into submission. I didn’t have a valid reason to have my heart racing, pumping adrenaline through my limbs, urging me to get to him faster. No reason at all.

But this time felt limited and I wanted to enjoy every moment. One day at a time could mean that today was the last day. It could all be pulled out from under me and I’d be dropped off at the trailer like this had all been a dream.

And I wanted to see him. I could be honest about that.

I’d watched him move about the office, taking in his easy movements, shocking for a man his size. His long fingers had flown across the keyboard between running through his short hair. Sometimes he’d even take a moment to lean back in his chair and drag a finger across his full bottom lip.

Each movement had drawn my attention to the strength under his suit. Each movement stoked the flame of attraction burning through me.

I had a crush. How could I not after all he’d done for me? It was normal, I rationalized.

Taking a deep breath, I began my descent downstairs and loved the shot of happiness tingling through my limbs when I saw him sitting at the island with a cup of coffee and the newspaper.

His back muscles strained under his t-shirt and my mouth watered as I imagined touching him. I needed to get myself together. It was one thing to have a crush and another to fall headfirst into a pool of lust because I’d put the man on a pedestal.

“Good morning,” I greeted in my most calm voice.

He didn’t look up. “Good morning. Sleep okay?”

“Yes. It’s kind of impossible not to in such a comfy bed.”

I turned my back on him to look over the coffee machine. My hands hovered over the buttons trying to decide which ones to push, but hesitating because I didn’t want to break it. I gasped when a strong arm reached past me and grabbed a mug, placing it under the spout. I stayed still, forcing myself not to step back into his heat as he grabbed a little white cup, put it in a slot in the machine, and pushed a few buttons to bring it to life.

“Thank you,” I breathed when he stepped back.

“No problem. You’ll probably want to figure out how to use it.”

I turned to face him, mirroring his stance of leaning a hip on the counter. “You’ll have to show me how you made the cup from yesterday. It was delicious.”

“Just two creams and a sugar. Nothing fancy.”

“How do you make yours?”

“I just have it black and a stronger brew. Keeps the hairs on my chest,” he joked with a smile.