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“Butterfly—”
“Don’t call me that.” I huffed, took his arms from around my waist, and stalked over to my desk. “I don’t know where you get off showing up here unannounced and insinuating yourself into my life ten minutes later. It’s been years since I last saw you, and even then, I wouldn’t call us friends.”
Brand closed the distance I’d put between us. “I wouldn’t call us friends, either. We’ve always been more than that, Penelope. The attraction between us has been undeniable since we first met.”
I raised my chin. “You have a vivid imagination. Maybe that’s what made you such a good, ahem, artist.”
Like the one and only other time he’d kissed me, Brand put his hand on the back of my neck and brushed my lips with his. When his tongue pressed against my mouth, I opened to him, as much as I knew I shouldn’t. The possession, the urgency, the need I remembered so clearly felt stronger than before. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and brought our bodies flush together. His hardness confirmed his desire was equal to mine.
Brand ended the kiss but didn’t release me. “Undeniable,” he repeated. “Which is why I’m not going to let you blow me off or push me away or tell me there’s nothing between us. It’s always been there.”
Arguing with him was pointless. He was right. Our attraction had been instantaneous, and no matter how much time passed between seeing each other, it returned in full force.
“We have a connection, Butterfly,” he said, moving his hand from my neck to my cheek. “I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. That includes my job with K19. Don’t misunderstand me; the chance Doc is giving me is once in a lifetime. I plan to do everything I can to prove to him I’m worthy of it. Worthy of you too, Penelope.”
“It isn’t about being worthy of me. God, Brand, you’re…” Hot as fuck. Every fantasy I’ve ever had of a man come true. The person I judged all other potential suitors by. No one had ever come close to measuring up in terms of how he made me feel.
Brand rested his forehead against mine. “Wanna see if you can transfer whatever you’re thinking so hard about straight into my brain?”
I breathed in to the count of five, then exhaled to the count of five as well. How had we gone from him showing up here to me telling him about my conversation with my dad? It was the kind of stuff I never talked about, even to my closest friends.
I was the strong one of the group, particularly when it came to relationships with our parents. Since the first day of boarding school, I was the one who let things roll off my back, at least outwardly.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s my father I’m angry with. Especially since he wants me to fly to LA to meet Hail. That’s what he called her. Hail.”
“So, go. Get it over with. While we’re there, you can get together with Quinn. Maybe even with Ava and Aine.”
I was grateful Brand already knew my closest friends and our history. There was so much I didn’t have to explain. I shook my head. “Wait. Did you say while we’re there?”
He grinned. “I did.”
“No. Absolutely not. I would not subject you to a showdown with my father. That’s way too much to ask.”
“I know you won’t ask, which is why I’m telling you I’ll go with you. If you want me to sit silently with my hands folded in my lap, I will. But there’s no reason for you to do this alone. Plus, it will give us time to practice being engaged.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
I shook my head. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy about you, Butterfly.”
The truth was, I hated confrontation of any kind, but especially with my father. If the Fire Island property weren’t so important to me, I’d drop it and let him do whatever he wanted with it. But what I said was true. He’d never cared about the place as much as I did. I’d spend my whole summer there while he made an occasional guest appearance, usually around the Fourth of July, when there was a party on every block.
Would it really be so awful to let Brand come with me? I had to admit, just telling him about my conversation had made me feel better. I lowered my head to his chest and rested my cheek against his heart. “Okay.”
He stroked my hair, and I could feel him nod, but he didn’t speak. After a few minutes, I did.
“We have to talk about?—”
“We don’t.”
I stepped back. “You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Doesn’t matter. Any sentence that begins with ‘We have to’ isn’t something we’re going to do right now. Unless it’s ‘we have to talk about dinner.’ That, I’d be up for.”
“That’s exactly what it was,” I said, smiling. “Too bad you don’t want to talk about it.”
“What needs to be done to close up?” he asked.
“Turn off the lights. Set the alarm.”
