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I braced myself for what I was about to tell her. “I’m going to need you to move out of my place.”
“Why? Because the rich prince didn’t get his way?” She laughed, and it pissed me off.
“No. It’s the fact that I have to see you every day, and every day I want to kiss you. And knowing I can’t because you don’t feel the same, it would be better to keep it business-like and only meet at work about work stuff only.
Her face straightened. “You think I don’t think about the kiss we shared? I am attracted to you, Jameson. But I’ve always prided myself on never getting involved with my clients. But you…”
“What Brielle? I what?” My face inched close to hers.
“I hate the fact that you make me feel things I haven’t in a long time.”
“Who cares what people think? We are two consenting adults.”
“We are,” she replied, finally looking at me.
“Hating you couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
She remained silent, and I decided to stand, and offered her my hand. “Let’s get you home before you drink yourself into oblivion.”
“I can hang with the best of them, Jameson.”
I chuckled. “I’m sure you can. Now come on.” I was still holding my hand out to her and she finally took it. Keeping her hand in mine, I led us through the bar, and outside where I could catch us a cab as I threw my arm in the air, flagging one down.
Brielle shivered in the cool air, I took my jacket off, putting it over her shoulders.
“Thanks.” She leaned into me, I put my arm around her shoulders, not understanding what this meant between us.
“What are you doing?” I asked once she lifted her leg so she could straddle me, right in this cab.
“What does it look like? I want you, Jameson.”
“You’re drunk.” Placing my hands on her waist, I moved her to sit next to me.
“I’m not drunk.”
“You’re slurring your words, you are drunk.”
“When has that ever stopped you?”
“That’s the thing, Brielle. I don’t sleep with anyone that isn’t thinking clearly. What kind of man do you think I am?”
When I didn’t get an answer, I looked over, and she was fast asleep. The cab pulled into my apartment building, giving him a hundred-dollar bill, I moved to her side to lift her out and carry her inside.
I managed to get her inside my apartment as I fumbled with my key and the doorknob. Carrying her down the hallway, I turned into the room she stayed in and placed her gently on the bed. I slipped her heels off then pulled a blanket over her. The thought of undressing her came to mind, but I wasn’t sure I could manage without looking at her smooth skin.
Back in the living room, in my pajama pants and no shirt, I sit at the piano and play the few notes I know. Walking to the kitchen, I get the coffee ready, and have Brielle’s green juice ready in the fridge, because she’s going to need it tomorrow to cure the hangover she’s going to have.
Sliding my back door open, the cool breeze wafts over me as I look out into the city, as it glittered with lights from down below from the shops and restaurants that are still open. Inhaling a deep, cool breath, I headed back inside, closing the sliding glass door behind me, then headed to bed.
***
In the morning, a loud bang woke me up. Looking around my room, I scrubbed my hands over my face and weaved them in my hair. I padded to the kitchen.
“How are you feeling?” I asked Brielle, watching her cook breakfast.
“I feel great. I told you I wasn’t drunk last night, and I wasn’t.” She smiled. “Want some juice?”
“Sure.”
