Alex

I throw my head back and laugh, because I’m liking this side of Alex. The one that can joke around even while discussing something serious. “Maybe we should start with Wake County, then we can build outward from there.”

With my eyes still crinkled in amusement, I see he’s staring at me, his head angled to the side a bit. “You know you’re extremely beautiful, but when you laugh you’re just stunning.”

My smile slides from my mouth and my eyes go round, even as my heart starts slamming inside my chest. His words are sweet yet his tone is slightly erotic, and it causes my skin to prickle with awareness.

“Alex—” I begin but he cuts me off.

“I told you I’m painfully honest,” he murmurs, his eyes coloring with dark intensity again.

“We can’t…this is professional. We can’t cross that line,” I say, with absolutely no conviction in my voice. I want him to tell me I’m wrong, and he sort of does.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Maybe, maybe not?” I ask, confused over this philosophical approach he’s taking. “How about ‘not’?”

“Maybe,” he says with a mischievous grin.

“Huh?”

Standing up from the bench abruptly, Alex takes from me the trash I had balled up in my hand and walks over to a nearby garbage can, depositing it all inside. Turning back to me, he says, “Come on. I’ll walk you back so I can get that binder from you and then I have to head home and pack. Are we good for Sunday?”

I just nod at him, not trusting myself to speak. Because I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll spout some sort of nonsense like “We should only meet during office hours.”

Alex flashes me another huge smile, and again, it seeps inside and possesses me completely. I shouldn’t want that feeling, but God help me…there’s a part of me screaming to just roll over and submit to it.

***

And…my second date with Brandon goes a little something like this.

I arrive ten minutes late at the small Italian restaurant we had agreed on because my last counseling appointment of the day ran over. I had sent Brandon a text to let him know I was running behind, to which he responded, I got here ten minutes early so I’m waiting.

Up until that moment, I had forgotten that Brandon was a stickler for punctuality. Not that that was a bad thing, but don’t add your early arrival time to my lateness to measure your discontent over having to wait.

Needless to say, that one text soured my mood, and by the time I follow the hostess back to our table, where Brandon is waiting for me, I’m ready for a fight. Brandon, ever the gentleman, stands when I approach and helps me out of the lightweight jacket I threw on because the air had turned cool.

“You look nice,” he says as he does a quick rake of his eyes over me. Sort of pales in comparison to Alex saying words like beautiful and stunning today.

“Thanks. So do you.”

And he does…with his khaki pants, blue button-down shirt. I think it’s the standard uniform for engineers or something, but he’s just so…tidy and put together. His hair is perfectly combed, he’s freshly shaven, and oh, God—he’s the exact opposite of everything that attracts me about Alex.

I peer hard at Brandon and try to remember what it was that attracted me to him. He was always so kind and considerate, a true gentleman to the core. That was sexy to me, right?

No answer pops out at me, and before the waiter can even arrive to take our drink order, I do something that I wonder if I will regret until the day I die.

I reach across the table and take Brandon’s hand in mine. “Brandon…I’m not really sure what it is we’re doing, but I don’t know that we can have a relationship again.”

Brandon’s eyebrows furrow in and his lips draw downward. “I can’t believe I’m ready to move forward with a relationship and you’re not.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling it. It doesn’t seem right to me,” I tell him honestly.

“Doesn’t seem right? Sutton, we spent almost four years together. We were good together.”

“Were being the key word,” I tell him gently…honestly. “That’s the past and I’m sorry…but you just don’t seem to fit into my future.”

“Is there someone else?”

“No,” I tell him firmly, because there’s not. Secret fantasies about another man don’t count. “I just think I’ve changed a lot since we were together, and I don’t know that you can give me what I need.”

“How do you know until you try? Please give us a shot, Sutton,” he says urgently, his hand gripping mine tightly. “Let me at least have a chance to get you back.”

Oh, God…I must have changed a lot. A year ago, Brandon begging me to let him woo me would have hit all my buttons. Now, the type of wooing I would like might involve a hot hockey player throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me to his bedroom. Which is so unrealistic but certainly a thrilling prospect. Maybe I should get to have my chance to sow my wild oats. I haven’t been trying very hard over the last year to do that, and as I reflect on why that is, it’s certainly not because I’ve been waiting for Brandon. He rarely crossed my mind.

No, I realize that I’ve done no sowing because it just hasn’t been a priority for me. I’m twenty-two, have a new career that I adore and that takes up all of my time, and I’ve had no real desire to fall back into a relationship again. I’ve done some casual dating, but there’s not been anyone that has rocked my world. Not the way that I bet Alex Crossman could.