21. Bradley
Bradley
M alcolm is so damn sweet. He’s the perfect cinnamon roll, and I do love a sweet treat. But he’s not mine, and I’m here to strictly do a job. I don’t know his ex, but I sure as hell hope he gives him a second chance.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and my fingers itch to pull it out.
The attorney had messaged me earlier and wanted to know how it was coming with the money owed.
I was getting close, but I still wasn’t there yet and I only had but maybe a week to go.
He wasn’t sure if they would give me another extension even if I had the majority of the money.
I quickly checked out my calendar and opened more time, sending a message to the Foxy’s to let them know.
We walk along the sidewalk, taking a moment to stop and look in the window of an antique shop. It's closed now, but it’ll be open tomorrow.
“We should come back here in the morning,” I state when I catch Malcolm’s gaze locked on an old radio player.
“They do have some nice things. Who knows, we may find a treasure or two.” He laughs, and it makes my heart soar that he’s finally letting go of some of that tension.
I turn to face him, knowing it’s now or never and that this is either going to go really well, piss him off, or set him back in his progress.
I’m a semi gambling man, so I’m willing to see where my odds land.
Letting go of his hand, I reach up and let my fingers run through his hair before taking hold of his head and pressing our lips together.
He resists at first, his body tense, before giving in, slipping his arm around my waist, pulling me into him.
Time seems to pass in slow motion. Our kiss is full of passion and when we break apart, we’re both breathing heavily.
“See, the world isn’t ending. No one’s staring and if they are, they're thinking how hot we looked and wondering how they can join us.”
I let go of him and can see him scanning around the area. A heaviness lifts from his face when he sees I’m telling him the truth.
“Nothing bad happened. You can do this, Malcolm. All you need to do is take the next step and tell your family, your friends and get your man.”
“Let’s go,” he says. “I’m hungry.”
When he takes my hand this time, I want to do a fist pump. Malcolm initiated the contact and we’re in public. This is huge. I want to tell him that I’m proud of him, but I don’t want to draw attention to it.
We walk the rest of the way in silence and when we get to the door of the restaurant, he stops and turns to face me. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m glad I can help you. There’s nothing I want more than to see you happy.”
He grabs the handle of the door, and we step inside. I love that he chose this place. It’s more of a sports bar than a restaurant. There are televisions on the wall, all playing sports, and I get a little bit excited when I see a Savannah Bananas game playing.
“Is this okay?” he leans in and whispers, his hot breath dancing along my skin.
“More than okay. This is amazing.”
We step up to the hostess, and Malcolm flashes her a smile.
“Table for two, booth preferably.” He glances over at me. “One that has a good view of the game.”
She smiles, picking up a couple of menus. “Of course, sir. Follow me.”
We fall in step behind her, weaving through the tables as she leads us to the one we will be sitting at.
I sit down in the booth and Malcolm slides in across from me, as the hostess places the menus down in front of us. “Your server will be with you shortly. Can I get you started with a drink?”
“Can I get the Rock Hard Red on tap?” I ask, not missing the slight curve of her brow.
Malcolm chuckles under his breath. “Make that two.”
She nods her head and rushes away, leaving us alone again. Well, as much as we can be in a restaurant.
“Should we start with an appetizer?” I ask.
“Cheese fries. They’re my guilty pleasure. But if you want something else, then get it.”
Cute. He’s really fucking cute. I take a minute to really look at him.
Thick dark hair and eyelashes that would have any woman jealous.
Chiseled jawline with a five o’clock shadow that tickled my skin when we kissed.
Lips that look like they’d do dangerous things in a dark room and suddenly I’m praying for a blackout.
Malcolm Knight is a god. One that I could only ever dream of having.
“So, plans for talking to your family. Are you telling your parents and children at the same time or doing more of a divide and conquer method?”
“Not sure. In a way, I’d rather get it over with. That way I can cut down on some of my stress, but I’m still not sure.” His voice hitches, but I pretend that I don’t notice.
Before I can say anything else, the server shows up with our beers, ready to take our order. Appetizers and main course taken, she scurries away, stopping at a nearby table, no doubt to check on them.
“Is your ex going to be with you?”
“No, I don’t think having him there will make it easier, especially with my parents.”
I snort, shaking my head as I lift the glass and take a swallow of my beer. “No. Your ex-wife?”
“Paige,” he tells me her name. “Yeah, she said she would be. In fact, she called me earlier to kick my ass into gear.”
“She sounds amazing.” Too bad I’d never meet her. I think we’d get along.
“She is. My daughter reminds me of her, and my son is like my mini me.” He shares a little more about his children with me.
“They’re my pride and joy. When I was younger, I never dreamed of having kids.
I planned to go through life living it to the fullest. But my parents wanted grandchildren, and I felt pressured to do that.
I knew Paige wanted children too and I couldn’t deny her that. ” He sighs.
“And now you love them more than you can imagine and couldn’t imagine a life without them.”
“How did you know that?” he asks.
“My dad said the same thing.”
We both go quiet. I still don’t get how I can go without even breaking a tear about my parents then out of the blue, a memory hits me, and I long for the time with them I’ll never have.
“Bradley,” he starts while reaching for my hand, but I shake my head, not wanting to hear the pity or sadness in his voice. We’re here for him, not for me.
“When are you doing it? I think you should do it sooner than later because the need to keep it a secret is what’s holding you back.”
He presses his lips together and his brows furrow, and I imagine he’s mulling over what I said.
“I don’t know. But let’s get back to you. What are you going to do with your life?”
Isn’t that the million dollar question. What am I going to do?
We spend the rest of dinner talking about lighter topics, making this look more like a date than what it really was. The more I talk to Malcolm and he tells me stories about his childhood, college, and travels, the more I find myself falling for him.
He’s perfect. Everything I wanted in a man. But then, so is Jefferson. It is as if each of them hold aspects I love that draw me in. Jefferson is carefree and fun, and Malcolm, though reserved, can hold a conversation and enlighten me on topics I never imagined wanting to know about.
All I know is that I can’t let myself get attached to Malcolm. He’s in love with someone else, and he’s working to win him back. I can’t compete with a first love. A soul mate.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” our server, Vanessa, asks.
“Just the check.” Malcolm tells her as he places his napkin on his almost empty plate and pushes it away, before picking up his beer, drinking the last of it.
“That was so good I feel like I’m headed for a food coma,” I tell him, leaning back in my chair and placing my hands on the table.
“Still want to go for that walk?”
I think about it. While I’m stuffed, he seems to want to do it and I don’t want to hinder him. “Yes.”
The server steps back up to the table placing the bill at the edge, right in the middle of the two of us. I go to reach for it but Malcolm’s quicker, slapping his hand on top of it and pulling it to him.
“Malcolm, I was planning to pay for it.”
“Tsk tsk,” he jokes, waving his finger back and forth. “I booked this weekend, and the guidelines state all costs are on me.”
“But our time ended like three hours ago or something like that. So, I’m no longer on the clock and there’s nothing stating I can’t pay for it,” I argue in my defense.
It doesn’t work. He slips his credit card into the tiny slot and places it on the table after lifting it to show the server. She doesn’t hesitate, passing by our table, picking it up quickly.
“Well, thank you. But I have breakfast then.” Malcolm laughs in response to my statement, but little does he know I can be sneaky, and I’ll make sure to find a way to pay for it.
The server brings back the receipt and card and he signs, adding on the gratuity.
“I’m going to the restroom real quick. Meet you up front?” I push back my chair and stand, weaving through the tables as I make my way toward the back of the restaurant.
After pissing, I wash my hands and step outside, stopping in the small hallway to check my phone. It vibrated earlier and I don’t want to miss a job.
There’s another message from Jefferson. He’d been sending little messages all day.
Some were just asking me how I was. Others were reminding me how much fun he had with me last night and others were him telling me things about him, then asking me a question.
Sure enough, there was a picture of him lying in bed, shirtless.
I bite down on my lip as I let out a groan. Older men are definitely the way to go.
Me: Hey I’m working. I won’t be able to talk until Monday.
Jefferson: Come over Monday night.
Me: I can’t. I need to work and I’m hoping to have a job booked.
Jefferson: Clear your schedule.
He’s anything but persistent.
Me: As much as I’d like to, I can't. I have to work. Time’s running out and I still don’t have all the money.
He doesn’t respond. There are no bubbles dancing, so I start making my way to the front. I’ve just stepped up beside Malcolm when my phone vibrates.
I look real quick, seeing I have a message from Foxy’s.
Subject: New Booking – URGENT RESPONSE NEEDED
Opening it, I find an urgent message for a booking for Monday night. Eight hours starting at six. And it’s Jefferson.
A part of me wants to decline it. Him paying to spend time with me makes me feel dirty. But I know he did for two reasons. He wanted to see me and he knows I need money.
What the fuck do I do? I don’t have time to think when a text comes in.
Jefferson: Don’t overthink it. Just accept it.
Fuck, reading it when he takes control like that is so fucking hot. My hands hover over the screen, knowing that Malcolm is watching me and I need to hurry. Screw it. I send a quick email accepting and giving my address as the pick up location.
Jefferson: Good boy.
When I get back to the table, Malcolm’s already paid the bill and is ready to go.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, picking up my glass, taking one last sip of water as he stands. My eyes go wide when he reaches out, takes my hand in his and leads me out of the restaurant. Malcolm keeps his head up, eyes in front of him, and not once do I see him look around to see if we’re being watched.
“Have a nice evening,” the hostess tells us as we pass by her.
“Thank you,” we say in unison.
Stepping outside the building he spins me around, wrapping his arms around my waist as he kisses me deeply.
“Thank you,” he whispers breathlessly. “For getting me here. I thought going into tonight I’d be nervous. Scared. Ashamed of who I am. But I wasn’t. And it’s all because of you.”
I shake my head because he’s wrong. “No, that was all you. For finally seeing the amazing person you are. No one’s opinion of you matters but yours, Malcolm.”
“Let’s go take that walk through the park. I want to show off the man I’m on a date with and make people jealous. Plus, I still need to practice being comfortable with PDA.” He winks and I smile widely.
“Then by all means let’s go make out in public.” I pull from our embrace, slipping my arm around his waist as we walk down the sidewalk toward the park.