Wild Thing

10. Ten

Ten

DYLAN

W ell, the chemistry meeting certainly lived up to its name.

“That went great,” Steven said, as we walked down the cascading stairs and onto the footpath out the front of Omega. The mid-morning sunshine was brilliant, immediately spurring me to rummage around my handbag for my sunglasses.

Thankfully, Steven's phone rang, meaning I didn’t have to answer any pointed questions about Brax.

“Hello? Yeah… No, that’s not the right file,” Steven braced his hand over his phone. “Dyl, I gotta take this. Can you order a car?”

I nodded as Steven stalked off in a huff down the footpath to continue his call.

Chemistry meeting.

It was almost laughable considering what had transpired.

Not only was the chemistry between Brax and I obvious, but Greg and his team had loved everything about my vision for Studio Pase. They loved me. There hadn’t been one question I couldn’t answer, and Brax even had my back when I suggested we stretch out the deadline to meet supply chain issues.

I unlocked my phone, my black fingernails shining in the bright sunlight.

Smiling at the memory of digging my fingernails into Brax’s back when I gave him a goodbye hug, I considered texting him. I figured I’d needed to let him know I was pissed he hadn’t told me that he was Omega’s builder. I hoped my nails had left little half-moon shapes on his skin. The same way his stare had left invisible burn marks all over mine.

His eyes had swept over my body multiple times while I was presenting. I’d noticed it all, from the way his throat moved when he stole a glance at my bare legs, to how his eyes flickered with pure heat when I caught his stare.

A voice sliced through the air. “Hey!”

Brax hurried down the stairs towards me. Slightly out of breath, he caught up to me. I met him with a death stare.

“What are you up to now?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Excuse me? Don’t you have some explaining to do?”

“About what?”

“You blindsided me in there!”

There was that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth grin again. But I would. I wanted to melt all over his mouth…

I must have had an undiagnosed disorder because I couldn’t focus on anything when he was around. I was annoyed, yet turned on at the same time, which was a very confusing frame of mind to be in.

“I’m sorry.”

“And?!”

“And?” My tone shifted to anger. I needed more than a simple apology. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d still have dinner with me if I told you I was Omega’s builder.”

Of course I would have. But I wasn’t telling him that. “When did you figure it out?”

“That first afternoon,” Brax reached over and patted me on the shoulder. “You name dropped Omega.”

I rolled my eyes, cursing myself for my oversharing. “Shit.”

For someone who hated oversharing, I seemed to do it a lot.

“You killed it today though.”

“I know I did,” I said, crossing my arms. “You still should have told me. Being blindsided sucks.”

“I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

I looked up at him, my sunglasses slipping to the tip of my nose.

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?”

He bit his bottom lip.

“I’ve got some ideas.”

Fuck, I was losing my mind.

I cleared my throat and pushed my sunglasses back onto the bridge of my nose.

“So, I’ll ask again," Brax shoved his hands in his pockets, turning his head towards Steven, who was yelling into the phone in frustration. "What are you up to now?”

“I'm heading back to the hotel to do some work, before heading into the conference this afternoon.”

“How about you scope out some materials for Studio Pase with me? Shouldn’t the interior designer and the builder start off on the right foot?”

This sounded like an excuse to hang out, disguised as work and I wasn’t mad about it. In fact, I was rather excited by the prospect of spending some more time with Brax.

That didn’t mean I didn’t want to see him squirm, maybe even beg, just a little more though.

“I already know what materials and finishes are best suited for this project,” I replied sassily. “Besides, you’re on my shit list.”

He braced both his hands on my shoulders. He gave me his signature apologetic, puppy-eyed look. The same one he used to give me when I'd have to pick him up from the sports bar at midnight. “I’m sorry times a million.”

I glanced over at Steven, who was still on the phone, but looking over towards us, curious about what Brax and I were discussing.

“C’mon. You can’t come all this way and not check out some of the stores here. You, of all people, should know how different materials and finishes are in person compared to online. I’ll have you back at the conference for the afternoon.”

I shifted on my feet, making him sweat a few moments longer. “I guess I could come for a little while.”

A wide smile appeared across his handsome face. “I’ve got a work car around the back. I’ll drive us. Stay here, I’ll bring it around.”

I shrugged my shoulders and nodded in agreement, because I was totally fucking chill and definitely not freaking out.

Brax dashed up the stairs, two at a time. His back view was just as good as the front.

I texted Steven and waited until Brax pulled up before hitting send, smiling at the thought of inconveniencing Steven.

Something's come up. Get your own car.

Climbing into the passenger’s seat of an Omega branded red Ford Ranger, I gave Steven a wave and yelled out the window, “Check your texts!”

I couldn’t help but giggle as I clicked my seatbelt in, enjoying the thought of leaving Steven there alone. I caught a glimpse of him in the side view mirror, with one arm up in the air, wondering where the hell I was going.

See ya, sucker.

“So, explain.” I demanded, turning in my seat to face Brax. Now that we were alone, I wanted the full story on his involvement with Omega.

Weaving through the mid-morning traffic, Brax seemed relaxed considering my tone was peppered with anger. “Explain what?”

One of his muscular arms was draped over the steering wheel, the other resting in his lap. God, he could be such an asshole. A sexy asshole. I'd decided that his affinity to ooze coolness and be so fucking tasty at the same time was annoying.

“How long have you worked for Omega?”

“I don’t work for Omega. They contract projects to me. Studio Pase is the latest.”

I stared at him as he continued driving. “How?”

“How what?"

“You’re really starting to piss me off, Brax.”

There was no hiding it; I was seething now as he dismissed my questions with his cute, maddening short answers.

He eyed me and flashed me a lazy smile as we stopped at a red light. “I’ve worked with Greg for years. He's kinda like a father-figure," Brax explained.

I smiled softly. Brax’s father had died in a car accident when he was twelve. Having zero father figures in our lives was something we'd bonded over. Losing his Dad at such a young age had sent Brax spiraling. He spent his teenage years in and out of trouble until he found his apprenticeship. Finding his passion for building had likely saved him from a cruel life of crime and punishment.

“Greg was crucial in my takeover of Patch and Sons. He encouraged me to buy it and helped me out. He’s really important to me, I owe him a lot.”

My body language softened as I turned and faced the front.

Sighing, I decided to give up the fight and drop my brat act. “Okay. Just don’t lie to me again.”

“I didn’t lie, I just omitted some information.”

“Well, then, no more surprises, okay?”

“What about the good kind?”

I chuckled as any lingering anger faded away.

“So, where are we going anyway?” I asked, changing the subject.

"You'll see," Brax leaned over and turned up the volume on the stereo. “This song goes out to the one that got away.”

The sound of bass, whispering vocals and synth booms filled the car. The infotainment system displayed the name of the band. Bad Omens.

My throat closed over and my bones turned to liquid for the second time that day. I knew this song. It was about regret and missing a love long left behind. I tried focusing on the road ahead, but my face was burning.

I couldn’t breathe, I needed air.

Immediately.

I fiddled with the A/C vents, needing any sort of cool air on my skin, something to relieve me from this burning.

Fuck, this dress was so tight. I ran my fingers along the inside of the high neck, willing airflow to find my skin.

We'd stopped at another red light. Sunlight bounced off his midnight black hair, while the lyrics penetrated me like little needles to my skin.

I miss the way you say my name /

Brax placed a hand on my leg, and slowly, slowly, slowly dragged a finger up my thigh, stopping just as he got to the hem of my very short dress.

Your makeup running down your face / The way you fuck, the way you taste

I swallowed. Hard.

My entire body responded in goosebumps and I sat there slack-jawed, almost flat-lining because I was not breathing.

I wanted him to pull the car over right fucking now.

I wanted this man right fucking now. I knew this is wrong—so wrong—but fuck it.

I didn’t care.

Because for the first time in a long, long time, I felt excited. Like everything was shiny and new again.