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I lifted a hand to wave but didn’t look back, then walked out, closing the door behind me. I hoped we saw very little of each other.
This was not something I had planned on ever happening. Life would carry on as usual, and I would change nothing. There was no reason to.
seven
dean
I gave it two days before I texted Brielle. She hadn’t contacted me or even Maegan. I knew her new mattress had been delivered within an hour of her returning to her apartment the day she came up here with me. I’d ordered it myself. One identical to the mattress I slept on, just a full-size to fit her bedframe, unlike my king-size. She hadn’t texted me or called after receiving it. Maegan had said she’d barely been there yesterday, and I assumed she had been at work.
The most frustrating part of it all was, I shouldn’t have given a fuck. She wasn’t what I was looking for, if I was even looking at all. I still hadn’t made up my mind about that. Relationships were sticky, and I had never managed to do one. It seemed like too much damn work. Until the past couple of years. Part of me wanted what Kiro had had with Emily, his late wife. He’d been so fucking happy for a time. Before her accident. Before the joy of life was completely sucked out of him when he lost her.
Was loving like he had loved worth the pain that could follow? I wasn’t sure I could take the gamble. I’d seen him so completely wrapped up in her, and I envied him that connection to another person. Then, I’d been there when he fell apart from the agony of losing her. I didn’t think I could survive that. Harlow was the one thing that had kept him from going under.
No. What I needed was someone closer to my age. A woman. Someone who had lived life and was mature. Someone who I could respect, appreciate, enjoy being near. If I was going to be in a relationship, it would have to be real. There would have to be depth. It could not be with some flighty, cheating twenty-something with a body that made my dick hard. I needed more than a fucking hard dick.
Brielle was simply a tenant and nothing more. I had to start noticing women my age—or at least within fifteen years of my age. I had grandkids, for God’s sake. My son should not be older than my girlfriend.
My phone dinged with a text message alert, and I looked down to see Brielle’s response.
It’s as if there was never any water damage at all. Thank you for handling it.
That was it. Nothing more. As it should be. I slid my phone back into my pocket and started for the private exit of my place when there was a knock at the other door before it opened.
“Dean?” Maegan’s voice called out.
I turned around and walked back to the living room just as she entered it. Today, her skirt was somehow even shorter than yesterday. Soon, her ass was going to be hanging out of the back. I knew she was trying to get my attention. She’d had her sights set on Kiro, but after a few fucks, he’d gotten bored with her. I’d given her the job to get her out of there. Not to fuck her. I was starting to think she had other ideas.
“Hello, Maegan,” I said, and she flashed me a smile that looked more like an invitation than a business smile.
“Good morning, Dean. Can I get you anything?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No. I was just about to leave. Is there an issue with the building?” I asked. Reminding her what her job was and why she was here.
She shook her head. “Everything is great. The new furniture is being moved back into Mrs. Jo’s apartment today, and the paint looks fantastic. When I spoke to her, she was very excited about seeing it all.”
I was glad Mrs. Jo was pleased, but if I was being honest, I was more concerned about her neighbor, and that was messed up. I had told myself Brielle was out of the question. Off the table. Too damn young.
“I can make you lunch if you’d like,” she said, taking a step in my direction. “I’m at your full disposal.”
I had no doubt she was. I needed to get the hell out of here. “I’m good. Thanks. I’m heading out. Lock up when you leave. Make sure Brielle McGinnis is also happy with her new furniture.” I couldn’t help myself. I had to know.
Maegan frowned. “She didn’t get new furniture.”
“What?” I asked, my voice sounding harsher than necessary.
“She said hers was fine. That it was dry. I told her to choose anything she wanted, within reason, but she wouldn’t.” Maegan sounded slightly panicked.
“How wet was her furniture?” I asked.
Maegan made a face. “It was pretty wet. Kinda soaked, but she put each piece out on the balcony the past two days and said they all dried up fine.”
“She fit a sofa on the balcony?” I asked, not believing this.
Why is Brielle being stubborn?
“Just the cushions.”
“Dammit,” I muttered and turned to head toward the building elevator.
