Page 13 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

Dave pulls out of the small parking lot, but Blanks stops him. “Find a place to park, Dave.” The older man nods, and we pull back off the road a minute later, parking in a shaded, empty lot.

I pass a container and drink forward to Dave, and he quickly vacates the vehicle for privacy. Not that we need it. In fact, I wish he’d stay.

Not waiting for Blanks, I open my box of tacos and dig in. After all, all I’ve had to eat today was a croissant and a latte, if you can even consider a latte as food.

“He’s never gonna fall in love with you.” His voice, at first raspy, then harsh, makes my cheeks burn. I want to spit my food out. Instead, I choke, trying to swallow it down, coughing as I do. He reaches a meaty hand over to pat my back, making me shudder.

“Excuse me?” I ask, holding a napkin to my mouth in a sort of horrified manner.

“I said he’s never gonna fall in love with you.” Blanks leans back nonchalantly, his Coke bottle dangling leisurely from his fingers.Lord, what must it be like to be a man like him?

“Yeah, I know that’s what you said. But what was thepointin saying it?” I ask coldly.

“Just trying to prevent you from getting hurt,” he cracks back.

“And you know…from experience?” I arch an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?” His cheeks turn pink, and he doesn’t answer.Suspect. “I’m not expecting love from this situation, okay? If you have any sort of ill will, harsh judgment, or rude advice, honestly, it’s a pass for me.” I go back to eating because, like hell, am I giving up my last Taco World taco for this.

He chuckles. “Well, fuck, Mrs. Palomino. Maybe I was wrong about you.” There’s something about the way he keeps sayingMrs. Palomino…I want him to stop.

“Maybe you aren’t, but I’m not your wife, you’re not my husband, and under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t be caught dead, alone, in a car with you.” I draw a line in the sand, my tone cutting. Whatever this is, I don’t need it, and I certainly don’t want it fromhim.

“She bites,” he hisses, throwing the bottle of Coke back with a laugh.

“Listen,” I take a calming breath, “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m hangry, and maybe you’re just looking out for a friend. I know he’s not…okay. Okay?” Some of the casualness melts off his face at my comment. “But it’s interesting you assume I’m the one who’ll end up hurt…”

He shrugs, “If I were you, I would just keep my expectations low. Real. Fucking. Low.”Okay…

I polish off my second taco before reengaging because the more I think about it, the more intrigued I become.

“So, how do you two know each other?”Are they bosom buddies? Fuck buddies?“You’ve piqued my interest.”

He doesn’t answer until he’s finished his second taco. “Met in the Army, inseparable ever since. Mostly. Alex…well, he likes to run. Or disappear. Just be ready for that.” Alex. Hmm. “You ever need any company, don’t hesitate to call, though.” He winks at me, and the shiver returns.

“Yeah. Whatever.” I roll my eyes this time, taking a large swig of Coke to try and ease the sting in the back of my throat. “Any other sage or, you know,actuallyhelpful advice?”

“You have an exit strategy?”Always.

“Yes.”

“Then you don’t need any advice at all.” He leans across the seat, slipping a hand into the jacket wrapped around me. His inner wrist grazes across my chest, sending an odd sensation zipping along my spine.

He fucking does it on purpose. My cheeks heat, and when he retracts the intruding appendage, he fucking smirks. I despise men like him. Self-assured, handsome, and pretentious.Men like him take without asking.

Revealing a thick card with a raised emblem on the front and a number on the back, he places it in my waiting hand.

“Call when you need me.”

“Don’t wait up,” I reply, stuffing the card into my clutch because you don’t know what you don’t know, right?

Lying in bed, I push the large diamond back and forth across my finger, twirling the band to the right. Then, back to the left.

The hand in the car, holding me in place.My cheeks flame, and I close my eyes against the wave of nervousness. Without my sight grounding me, the memory from the car morphs into hands holding me down.Thatmemory is like a bucket of ice thrown on me, and the moment is gone.

My eyes fly open as a gentle knock startles me and has me racing towards the door to my suite. I check the peephole in case it’shim, but sigh with relief when it’s just room service.

The server motions me to move aside once the door is open so he can wheel in a dining table with silver-covered plates adorning it. He sets the table up in front of the window, pulling over a chair from the small desk for me. Gesturing for me to sit, I do, and he hands me an envelope before excusing himself and leaving me alone.

Sorry about dinner, just needed some fresh air. Happy wedding night. Wasn’t sure your favorite, so ordered it all.