Chapter 2

My eyes flutter open and I sit bolt upright in the bed, not sure where I am for a moment. It takes a second, but I finally orient myself, recalling everything from last night that led me to where I am right now. The memory makes my stomach churn, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Sunlight streams in through the window to my right, the storm that I ran through last night had finally subsided. My head spinning, I glance down at myself and see that I'm wearing clothes that seem like they were made for a giant.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stand up. The air is saturated with the aroma of coffee and bacon frying. Quietly opening the door, I pad out of the bedroom and walk through the apartment, stepping into the kitchen to find Cash quietly singing along as he cooks. My heart flutters inside of me as I watch him quietly for a moment. He moves fluidly and gracefully around the kitchen for such a large man. Cash turns around, and when he sees me watching him, he stops singing, looking slightly embarrassed, and smiles warmly.

"Good morning," he says.

His voice is a deep rumble that sends goosebumps crawling across my skin and fills my belly with a delicious warmth.

"Good morning," I reply. "I'm so sorry I stole your bed last night. I didn't mean to?—"

"It's all right. You looked comfortable, so I didn't want to bother you," he replies. "I was fine on the couch."

"This is your house. You shouldn't have to sleep on the couch."

He waves me off. "Believe me, I've slept on worse. The couch is just fine," he says. "Speaking of the couch, I put your clothes on the couch."

I don't know why it didn't occur to me last night when I gave him my clothes, but the realization that he saw my panties suddenly dawns on me. It makes my stomach lurch, and my face grows warm with embarrassment.

"Thank you so much," I stammer.

"Of course."

I step into the kitchen, and as if the clothes aren't enough of a reminder of the size discrepancy between us, the way he towers over me reinforces it. He's lean and fit, his shoulders are wide, and his body is taut with corded muscles that make him seem as wide as I am tall. He obviously works out a lot and takes good care of himself.

As I stare up into his golden-hazel eyes, my heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings. My stomach turns over on itself and I swallow hard, the air between us charged and crackling with the tension of expectation. He looks like he wants to kiss me. And if I'm being honest, despite everything that happened last night, I don't know if I'd stop him. He clears his throat, runs a hand through his thick and tousled sandy brown hair, and looks away, the moment between us passing.

"Anyway," he says. "Have a seat. I made breakfast."

I sit at the table, and he sets a plate down in front of me. On the radio, Imagine Dragons' hit ‘Natural' begins to play, and I can't help but notice Cash bopping along with the music. He puts a pair of pancakes down on my plate, then a pair on his. Next, he sets a small plate with bacon and sausage on it and puts a small dish of butter down as well.

"Blueberry pancakes, huh?" I ask.

"I wasn't sure if you liked them, but I thought I'd take a chance," he replies. "Same with the bacon and sausage. I didn't know which one you might like, so I made them both."

"Everything looks and smells amazing."

"Coffee? Orange juice? Both?"

I purse my lips. "Both, please."

"Good choice."

He pours out mugs of coffee and glasses of orange juice for us both and sets them down on the table. Then, finally, Cash pulls a jar of peanut butter out of the cupboard, carries it over, and sets it down as he takes the seat across from me.

"Peanut butter?" I ask.

"I can't eat pancakes without peanut butter," he replies. "It's amazing with syrup. I never eat pancakes or waffles without it."

"Huh. I haven't tried that before."

"Then you should give it a shot."

"I think I might. And thank you for this… feast," I say. "I usually eat a Pop-Tart for breakfast. If I eat breakfast at all."

"You should always eat breakfast. Like they say, it's the most important meal of the day. It's what gives you the fuel you need to get through it."

"Noted."

We share a laugh, then fix our plates and tuck into our meals. There's something so domestic about this whole thing, the surrealness of the moment is a little overwhelming. I don't know this man and he doesn't know me, and yet here we are, sharing breakfast like an old married couple or something. It's unreal and yet, at the same time, it's kind of nice.

"Okay," I say. "You're right about the peanut butter."

"Of course, I am," he replies with a soft chuckle.

Fine lines at the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, and up close, I can see the flecks of gray in his neatly trimmed beard. He's older than me, obviously, but his boyish smile makes him appear younger. Softer. It smooths out that ruggedness in his face and somehow makes him even more handsome than I think he already is.

"So, what happened last night?" he asks. "What brought you to my door?"

It's been the elephant in the room since I sat down at the table, and I've been wondering when he was going to ask me about it. Part of me doesn't even want to get into it simply because it's humiliating. I'm mortified that I was even in that position, to begin with. Not to mention that now, by the light of day, I find myself wondering if perhaps I overreacted to the situation.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," he says, as if reading my mind. "I'm just offering a friendly ear to bend."

"To be honest, I don't have many friends in the city, so I appreciate the offer."

"Why's that?"

"I just moved here a couple of months ago. I'm from Georgia."

He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. "Oh? What brought you out here?"

"You'll think I'm an idiot."

"I won't."

I sigh and try to fight off the waves of embarrassment that batter me. "I moved out here because I met a boy online."

My voice trails off as I hear just how stupid it sounds coming out of my mouth. I've laughed at people who've moved across the country for a boy or girl before, thinking it's the stupidest thing a person could do. And yet, here I am, I'm the idiot now.

"It didn't turn out the way you thought it would, huh?" he asks.

I shake my head miserably. "He's not the person I thought he was."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. Nothing like that," I tell him. "But online, we were a great match. We had so much in common and I thought we shared the same values. I thought…"

My eyes sting and my vision shimmers as tears well in my eyes. I use my napkin to dab at the corners of my eyes, shame and stupidity crashing down over me again.

"The fantasy didn't match the reality, I'm guessing," he says gently.

"In some ways, it did. But not in the ways that matter to me."

"Like what?"

My hand trembles as I pick up my coffee mug and take a sip, doing my best to keep from humiliating myself even further by breaking into a crying fit. Rather than judging me for being a stupid, na?ve girl, Cash just looks at me with kindness in his eyes.

"I thought we were on the same page about sex. I'm not like a prude or anything, but sex isn't something I take lightly. Before I came out here, I told him I wouldn't sleep with him until I thought the time was right. Until I was ready. He said he understood."

"I'm guessing he didn't understand."

I shake my head. "He's been pressuring me to sleep with him. I kept saying no and I could see him getting angrier and more frustrated," I tell him. "It all came to a head last night. We were out, and he started going off about us not having sex. I told him I just wasn't ready, and he lost it. He started screaming at me, calling me a tease, basically telling me I owed him sex, and he started punching the dashboard of his car. It terrified me. I jumped out of the car and ran. And that's how I ended up… here."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Did he force himself on you?"

"No, not at all," I tell him. "He was just so angry with me. It scared me to death."

"I'm sure you were. This guy… he sounds like a real asshole."

"He didn't start out that way. He was sweet. Thoughtful," I say. "But he changed."

"Or maybe he was that guy all along and tried to make you think he wasn't."

"Yeah. Maybe."

As the reality of my situation settles down over me, my chest tightens and I have trouble breathing, almost as if I'm suffocating beneath a thousand-pound weight. I bury my face in my hands and do my best to staunch the tears. I would've had better luck trying to hold back the tide.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I say. "I can't live there with him anymore. Not after last night. But I still haven't found a job…"

I sniff loudly and wipe my face with my napkin, doing my best to keep myself from falling apart in front of Cash…or from falling apart any more than I already have. The tears streaming down my face only add to my humiliation. I take a couple of moments to collect myself, and when I finally raise my eyes, the expression of sympathy I see on Cash's face breaks my heart all over again.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Honestly? Not really," I say, appalled at the way my voice quavers. "I just don't know what I'm going to do."

"Here's what you're going to do," he begins. "I need help in the bar. I'm going to hire you as a server here. I've also got a spare room in this place that you will use until you get on your feet and get your own place."

"That's sweet," I say, shaking my head. "But I can't take charity?—"

"It's not charity. It's a job. I'm going to be putting you to work."

The offer is intriguing, and I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't tempted. But part of me wonders if it's because it seems to be a good way out of my current situation, or because I have this carnal pull toward the man I can't quite understand. Either way, I don't think it's a good idea.

"I appreciate it, Cash. But you've already done far too much for me. I wouldn't feel right putting you out like that."

He waves me off. "You're not putting me out. Like I said, I need help in the bar."

I wipe my eyes again. "Thank you. But I think I'm just being dramatic. I'm sure after a night apart, he'll have calmed down and we can talk it out. I'm sure I can make him understand what he did and how he scared me. I'm sure he'll change."

"You know he won't. Guys like that don't."

"Maybe not. But I got myself into this. I need to be a big girl now and get myself out."

Cash sits back in his chair and stares at me for a long moment. His gaze is intense and makes my skin prickle as an uncomfortable heat builds between my thighs. The longer he looks at me, the wetter I get. I like the way his eyes make me feel. Maybe a little too much. Especially considering the fact that I have a boyfriend—a boyfriend I don't want to sleep with. Add to that, part of me wants Cash to throw me onto the table and have his way with me, and it makes things in my head even more complicated and confusing.

"Okay," he finally says. "Just know that if you change your mind, the offer stands."

I give him a small smile. "Thank you, Cash. For everything."