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My words hit him hard as any fist.
“What’s wrong, Claire?” April asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. I didn’t want everyone to know I was having a fucking meltdown because things got a little heated. “Thanks for doing the shoot, Kieran. I appreciate it.”
His mask was in place again. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
Yeah, that wasn’t Kieran. That was Finn.
And that hurt, because anyone could have Finn. Anyone could buy him. Kieran was supposed to be mine.
There was my problem in a nutshell. He wasn’t mine, and I’d started to think of him like he was. Even if we were together, he still wasn’t mine, you can’t own another person—and who would want to?
I sighed.
“Thanks, everyone. I’ve got to drop off our intrepid photographer, so I’m going to head out.”
Brant met me at the car. Ryan didn’t wait for me to say anything, he just got in and closed the door, giving us a modicum of privacy.
“What was that about?”
“I can’t even.” I shook my head. How was I supposed to tell him even if I were so inclined?
He hugged me. “I’ll meet you at your house and we’ll go grab dinner like we planned.”
His arms were warm, safe, and the comfort I found there had nothing to do with height, muscle or anything but the man who embraced me.
“I’ll change.”
“I kind of like your pin up couture.”
“Okay then. I’ll wear it. Even these eyelashes.”
He released me and opened the door for me. I slid into the seat and started the car.
“It’s none of my business, but that’s not the guy I expected you to be dating.” Ryan said.
“We’re not really dating.” We hadn’t put a label on what we were doing and I liked it that way.
“You and that other guy, I thought my camera was going to explode. You’re on fire together.”
“Are we?” I asked, curious now how everyone else saw our interaction.
“You were great models. The chemistry was explosive. It’s like that other girl said. If you use these pictures, every woman will wish she was you.”
I could tell that he genuinely meant what he said, but I didn’t see it. It was unimaginable.
Just as I put the car into gear, April put her arms around Kieran. He returned the embrace, but watched me over the top of her head.
I drove as fast as my little Chevy would carry us away from Kieran and everything he stirred in me.
9
Brant was sitting with his back against his car door waiting for me when I got to the house—Kieran’s car was nowhere to be found.
So much for staying in tonight alone. I knew he had to work, but that’s why I expected him home. He napped after we watched American Horror Story. Although, to be fair, I’d made plans with Brant.
My brain wouldn’t stop picturing him doing…things. But now instead of him by himself, thinking about me, my stupid imagination had painted April into the scene. He was touching her, tasting her—she was making those damn sounds like she had the night of her birthday.
Maybe I should just fuck him for my birthday present too. After all, it was just Finn McCool. He’d do it.
Even having the thought broke my heart.
“What’s wrong? And don’t try to bullshit me and say there’s nothing wrong. What did Kieran do?” Brant said when he saw my expression.
I searched Brant’s face for some ulterior motive. There was only concern. “He’s just being a douche.” I slid down to sit next to him.
“He’s jealous.”
“What?”
“You’re spending all of your time with me or Chubbalicious, and that’s new. You’ve always been his.”
“But he set us up. That makes no sense to me.” Who was I trying to convince? Him or me?
“He’ll get over it. Or not. And you’ll stop seeing me to be with him.”
I turned my head sharply.
“If you think no one saw the burn between you two, you’re sadly mistaken. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But don’t lie and say it’s not there.”
The part of me that was a selfish bitch wanted to tell him everything, because now with this rift with April, Brant was quickly becoming my best friend. I could feel the pieces clicking into place. I wanted to tell him things, wanted his thoughts and his advice.
Most of all, I didn’t want to hurt him.
“No,” I said slowly. “I won’t deny it. I guess there is no denying it.” I took a deep breath. “How do you feel about that?”
“I guess it depends on what you want to do. If you want me to be your friend, I can be your friend, Claire. That’s why I wanted to wait before we had sex. I want you, there’s no refuting that. But what am I going to say here? That it’s fine? It’s not. It’ll hurt like a motherfucker.” His laugh was self-deprecating. “Will I respect what you want? Of course.”
