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“Do you want to keep seeing me?”
“I thought that was clear.”
“Obviously, we have chemistry too.” We did, because the way he touched me—it was the best sex I’d ever had.
“If we’re being honest, we all had chemistry together.”
My eyes widened as his implication became clear.
“Shocked? You shouldn’t be. You make jokes about it all the time.”
“Only because it’s a dirty fantasy.” I pursed my lips, trying to hold back whatever else my mouth could say without my brain’s permission.
“It doesn’t have to be. Kieran and I have shared women before. You want him. I still want you.” His tone was matter of fact. “And if I’m not mistaken, you want us both.”
I didn’t think my whole body could blush, but I had to be because I was hot everywhere. I’d never thought of myself as a prude, but maybe I was. The woman I wanted to be would’ve grabbed this opportunity by the balls and shook them like maracas.
Except the woman I was? Not so much.
I laughed. It was an awkward, tinny sound. “If I’m embarrassed to be naked in front of one man, what would I do with two?”
“Come so hard you see stars. Now tell me what he did to piss you off.”
This wasn’t happening. It just wasn’t. Synapses refused to connect and fire. He’d basically told me that I could have everything I wanted. I could live a fantasy. “But I don’t want the guys who work at The Rooster. I want you, Brant. The real you. The one I connect with. I don’t want Finn McCool. I want Kieran. Your bodies are gorgeous, that’s not in question. But I want more than that.”
“You’ve got it. At least from me.”
“I don’t have it from Kieran. I did, until things got weird. Now, he’s Finn.” I slumped. “Shit, I sound like a total psycho.”
“No, he does. Switching back and forth between personalities? We call that multiple personality disorder.” Brant grinned.
I just love you was on the tip of my tongue. He made me laugh, he made feel safe, he seemed to know how to make everything right. What wasn’t to love? But I wasn’t in love with him. I said I love you to Kieran all the time, to Rosa, to Hollie, to April.
But Brant was different. He wouldn’t hear it the same way.
I was glad my tongue obeyed me with that little tidbit. Instead, I said, “Thanks.”
“For what? Offering to bang you and your crush?”
I giggled. “For being you. For making being me okay.”
Surprise bloomed on his face. “Why would it not be okay?”
“You’re always so sure of yourself.”
“Usually, but if you held out on me any longer before you said yes, you might have changed all that,” he teased me. “Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”
“You just stuffed your face with April’s picnic.”
“That sounded way dirtier than it was.”
I laughed and nudged his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
“I only had one sandwich and some strawberries. I need some protein if I’m going to work out later.”
“You work out before you dance?”
“Yeah. Makes everything harder.”
“Everything?”
“Everything. Wanna see?” he teased me.
“Maybe I just do.” I reached over and grabbed his biceps. He flexed for me and that made me giggle too. It was silly, but it was nice to have this freedom to touch and be touched.
I guess it was more than a freedom, it was a kind of intimacy. An intimacy that would most likely be ruined if I took him up on his offer.
Even though I knew some things were better left as fantasy, now that the idea had taken root in my brain, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Remembering what it was like being pressed between them at the shoot earlier—he’d said I could have that again. I could have everything. I tried to push it out of my head.
He took my hand from his arm and pulled it down over his chest slowly. Down to his abs, down further to the waist of his jeans. I recognized the move from the club. All the guys did that when they were giving dances.
I hated that I knew that and I hated that it bothered me.
How many times did I need him to prove I was special to him? My brain knew that I was, but my heart was afraid to believe it.
But I didn’t stop touching him. I should have. For a million reasons. Because I wasn’t in the right place to have a relationship, I had feelings for Kieran, and I didn’t know what I wanted from Brant. I was officially an asshole.
Yet, Brant didn’t seem to mind.
“What if I did… this?” I drew my hand down further over and played with the pull on his zipper.
