38. Afraid Of Falling

Chapter 38

Afraid Of Falling

MEGAN

" H e punched him?" Naomi looks at me from where she's chopping carrots for dinner, her face reflecting shock. "Like in the jaw?"

I nod from where I'm sprawled on the couch, wearing my Tweetybird character pajamas.

"I know I shouldn't think about it like this, but it was fucking hot, and if I hadn't stopped him, I don't know what he would have done to Ricky."

"That is so hot."

"Every red flag about this man drives me insane."

"Hot ass red flags." Naomi grins.

Naomi's hair is tied in a slick bun, and not a single hair moves out of place when she brings the knife down harder than necessary on the cutting board, her voice filled with satisfaction.

"I'm glad somebody finally stood up to Ricky. I mean the fucking audacity to think that you still have feelings for someone who humiliated you like that. The guy might be good-looking, but he's a certifiable douchebag."

I close the art history book, leaning against my raised knees as I prepare for an upcoming test.

"I'm kind of still worried about what he said, though. What if he edits that video and rereleases it before the exhibition?"

"Didn't Ricky and Ashley's parents make an arrangement with the Dean? There would be some consequences if those two tried that dumb shit again."

"Yeah, an agreement was made, but then their parents donated to the school. A large donation. So, I'm still in a precarious position."

"Are you, though? Sounds like your boss handled him."

"I mean, Hunter definitely frightened him but–"

"Wait, a ding dong minute. Did you just call that grown-ass man Hunter?" Naomi looks up at me, her brows so high up in her head that they are at risk of disappearing in her hairline. "Since when did Mr. Middleton, our benevolent landlord, your boss, become Hunter?"

My eyes lower as I sink deeper into the couch. "I don't know. In my head, I started calling him that." I don't want to tell her everything.

When Naomi doesn't say anything, I peek over the top of the couch to see her staring at me.

"This calling him Hunter in your head started after Paris, right?" she asks suspiciously.

I shrug, trying not to give away much.

"Girl, you told me nothing happened in Paris. You said he was a perfect gentleman."

I grimace. "Well?—"

"Megan!" Naomi rounds the island counter and strides over to me, her eyes blazing."You pretty little liar! I knew it. Something freaky happened, didn't it?"

I sit up, the book falling against my chest as I scramble away, but she's already hovering over me.

"Spill it. What happened between the two of you? I want all the details."

I have no choice but to reveal the truth. I can never hold things from Naomi for too long. "We slept together."

Her eyes widen. "You and your boss? The billionaire? Our landlord? You had sex with him?" The shock immediately transforms into suspicion. "Wait, did he force you?"

"No." I shake my head vehemently, horrified by the suggestion. "I had a little too much to drink, and it was my idea. He tried to put me on pause."

"Ha," she scoffs. "I bet."

I swing my legs around until they dangle from the seat, pressed into the carpet, sighing.

"I fucked up, okay? I was convinced that Paris would be a one-time thing and that he wouldn't look at me after we slept together. Honestly, he was acting like that on the plane ride home. Like, perhaps he regretted what happened."

"Wait, hold up." Naomi perches herself on the edge of the coffee table, facing me. "I don't understand how this all unfolded. I thought he was just some rich dude looking out for you because you remind him of his little sister or something, and I assumed him punching Ricky out today was him just acting like a cool big brother, albeit a hot one. But now you're saying you slept with him, liked it, and you're hoping it might turn into a relationship?"

She gestures with her hand alongside her temple that her mind is blown. This is precisely why I didn't want to tell Naomi any of this. I was afraid she would make a big deal about it, and I was right.

"I didn't say anything about wanting a relationship, okay? Hell, I barely know him. I can't even tell when he's serious or playing games with me. He says I used him, and I think he may actually believe that."

"Then we'll move out. Fuck it. We can find somewhere else to live."

"No, I don't think he meant that I used him for this apartment. He insinuated that I used him for sex and said that we're far from finished, whatever the hell that means." I mutter that last part.

"Got it." Naomi makes a slight sound of understanding. "So your tall, dark, and sexy boss, who's also way older than you, wants your ass."

"You think so?"

"He doesn't believe for one second that you were using him for his body. He's just fucking with you."

"I don't know, Naomi. Hunter doesn't often say things that he doesn't mean."

"I'm telling you this is all a seduction. And how do you feel about that? What did you tell him when he said you two were far from over?"

My head springs up. "Of course, I said no. But I don't think anybody has ever said no to him. And whenever he gets his hands on me, it's as if my brain stops working. I don't know what to do. As you said, he's my boss and our landlord, and evidently, he's acting as my personal security."

Naomi laughs. "That man is trying to be your sugar daddy. Actually, he ain't trying. He already is. Look at how quickly your life has turned around since you met him. You're a nightclub manager, we live in this luxury apartment, and you've spent the weekend in Paris!"

"I don't want a sugar daddy and–" My voice stutters to a stop as Naomi studies me.

"And what? What else is stopping you from enjoying whatever is happening?"

I rub a spot on my chest that has been throbbing every time I think of Hunter.

"I'm afraid of falling in love with him, Naomi." I bring up my knees to my chest, hugging them. "I've never had a man treat me like this. I've never felt so protected by a man I'm attracted to. Every time I have a problem, he's ready to fix it. I practically melt into a puddle whenever he stands close to me. Not to mention that he smells delicious at all times."

Naomi chuckles, "I'm jealous."

"But I'm not under any delusions about who he is," I continue. "Hunter lives in a dangerous world, and that kind of anxiety is the last thing I need. Working at the club is drama enough."

The words are pouring out of me, and Naomi envelops me in a hug. "Okay, you're panicking, honey. Breathe in and out. It's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

Her voice is soothing as she hugs me tighter, forcing me to relax. Naomi doesn't talk much about her family but has alluded to having difficult relationships with some of them. Living her life on her own terms is a motivating force for her.

"Why haven't you said anything to me about this?" she asks, not letting go. "You're clearly worked up over this."

"I don't know," I sigh, pulling away from her to look at her face. "You know what The Blue Whiskey is like. Remember, I told you that I'd rather not share all the stuff that happens there to keep you safe?"

She has no idea what happened to Steve.

God, I can never tell her what I suspect.

"But this is about you and Mr. Middleton, not the club." She frowns. "This is about something personal, and you should be able to tell me anything. What if something happened to you? I wouldn't have had all the information I needed to help."

"You're right." I give her a small smile. "I guess I was reluctant to share because I feel like I'm way in over my head. I try to be respectful around him because he's my boss, but he's also this man I've been intimate with. When he took me to Paris, he was like this whole other person, and for a moment, I forgot that he was my employer. When we were there, he was just Hunter."

"So, what's the problem?"

"The problem is that you can't compartmentalize people like that. He is a complicated person. And now that we're back from that fantasy trip, I thought things would return to normal, but they haven't. He keeps trying to push his way into my life in the most wonderful damn ways. I don't know what will happen if I give in now and get my heart broken later on."

"Why are you so sure that he'll break your heart?" Naomi asks quietly.

This time, my smile is a little sad.

"Because that's what men like him do to women like me. I am nowhere on equal footing with him. He's the one who holds all the power: age, wealth, and experience. Even when I try to keep my distance from him and tell myself that this is not going to go anywhere, there he is. Mr. Wonderful. If he keeps this up, I won't be able to push him away much longer."

My friend studies me and then sits down beside me, flinging her arms around my shoulders. "Thank you for sharing that. I know that was hard."

"I should have told you sooner. You're my sister." I rest my head on her shoulder. "If not by blood, then by choice."

"Yeah." She presses a firm kiss on top of my head. "Listen, I know your head and heart are at war, and you also know I never give good advice." I snicker in agreement. "But I've never seen you talk about a guy like this. And as for him, you have to mean something to him, even if he doesn't know it yet, because no man will go to the extremes he has for no reason. He wouldn't keep you next to him unless there's something else there. He can have meaningless sex with anyone."

The thought of Hunter having sex with anyone else makes my stomach churn.

"I suppose that's true."

"So my advice is don't look for love. Don't hope for love. Enjoy the physical. Enjoy the gifts." She twirls around in our state-of-the-art kitchen to make her point. "Enjoy sweaty sex and the steamy kisses and whatever the fuck else you guys do. If you get your heart broken, that's fine because I'll be right here to pick up all the pieces and put you back together. I'll set you up on so many first dates that you won't even remember Hunter Middleton afterward. Just live in the now and enjoy it. You're young. You should have at least one hot, forbidden relationship under your belt by now."

I absorb her words, and while I know they come from a place of care, Naomi doesn't see the harm in taking risks, but I'm fearful of them. The riskiest thing I've ever done was take a job at that club.

"But I recommend you talk to him upfront about your job, this place, and his expectations if that worries you. Don't beat around the bush. This is your peace of mind we're talking about."

My friend has made some excellent points tonight, and I burrow myself into her, grateful to have someone like her in my life. I didn't grow up with any friends so it's finally nice to find a good one.

"Fine, I'll stop worrying incessantly. I'll talk to him."

Just then, there's a knock on the door, and I stand.

"I'll see who it is."

When I open the door, I see Parker standing there with a few rectangular boxes in his hand.

"Um, hi."

"Who is it?" Naomi calls out, but I don't reply because I see Parker taking in my pajamas. When he grins, I blush in embarrassment.

"I got these on sale. Stop judging me."

"They're cute," he chuckles. "Here, this is for you. The boss sent them."

I look at the large boxes and then back at him. "What is it?"

He shrugs. "Not for me to say."

I extend my arms to take them, but he shakes his head no.

"Where do you want them?"

"Put them there." I point to the coffee table.

He enters the apartment, and Naomi waves from the kitchen.

" Heyyyy. "

"Naomi, this is Parker. He works for Mr. Middleton," I introduce them. "Parker, this is my roommate, Naomi."

"You're the one who beat up our old landlord, right?" Naomi smiles in appreciation.

Parker glances at me before saying in a low voice, which means it's only for my ears, "I didn't do much to him. Mr. Middleton dealt with him personally."

I blink.

Really?

However, Parker doesn't offer more than that, putting the boxes on the coffee table.

"That's definitely a dress box," Naomi points out, glancing at me. "Why don't you open it while I get Parker something to drink?"

"Oh, I'm not staying."

"I'll make you a coffee." Naomi beams. "I make amazing coffee. Sit down. It won't take long."

Parker looks a little unsure as he watches Naomi hurry toward the kitchen. When he glances in my direction, I shrug my shoulders.

"Do what you want. She does make good coffee."

I reach over and open the smallest box on top, and my heart nearly stops at the prism of lights reflecting off what's inside.

"Please tell me those are fake." I stare down at the diamond stud earrings cushioned in a red velvet cloud.

Parker looks away.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I open the next box, only to reveal a necklace with a similar design. It's a beautiful 18k white gold chain with a stunning diamond pendant attached, and now I'm terrified to open the following two boxes.

The next box contains a pair of black stiletto heels, size 8. My size. I don't recognize the brand, but they look expensive. However, when I open the dress box, I freeze.

It's a black classy backless number with a low-cut neckline.

It's beautiful.

And the box is from a renowned design house.

"I can't wear this," I say, holding it up against me.

"Sure you can," Naomi calls over from the kitchen, having caught a glimpse of the dress. "You'll be turning heads in it. It's gorgeous."

"It's a good dress," Parker says with an afterthought.

"Why is he sending me a dress and freakin' diamonds?"

"He thought it would... I don't know. I don't speak for him."

"Clearly," I retort. "Where is he?" I carefully put the dress back in the box and glare at Parker.

"Upstairs."

"I see."

I walk over to the front door and march outside, ignoring Naomi's calls. I don't stop until the elevator opens in front of a large door that looks different from the front doors of all the other units in the building. It takes two loud raps for someone to answer.

But it's not Hunter.

"Hi, is Mr. Middleton here?"

The dark-haired man stares at me blankly before his eyes gleam with laughter. "You must be Megan."

He looks familiar, and then a head pops up from behind him. "Is it the pizza?"

My brows knit together at the sight of the man who had been shamelessly flirting with me at the bar the other day.

"What're you doing here?" I stare at him.

"Hi, Megan." He winks at me.

"She's looking for Hunter," Man number one tells him.

The flirt turns his head and bellows, "Hunter, your girlfriend is here!"

"I'm not his girlfriend," I replied irritably.

"And she looks adorable in her pajamas!" The man who opened the door for me adds loudly with a broad grin. "Very retro."

It's then that it hits me that I'm still wearing my Tweety pajamas. It's bad enough that I'm coming to pick a fight with Hunter, but doing it while wearing oversized children's sleeping attire was not one of my brightest moves.

"I'm going to change and come right back," I say with less confidence than when I arrived.

My words are interrupted when the man at the door flings his arm over my shoulders, pulling me inside, looking way too happy for my liking. "Oh, no need. You look adorable, just as you are."

I hear the sounds of hurried footsteps, and even as I try to escape the firm hold on my shoulders, I fail. I look up to see Hunter walking into the room, his hair wet, a towel wrapped around his waist, with droplets of water still dripping down his body.

"Get your hands off her, Vaughn, or I'll slice them off," he says cooly, striding forward and yanking me towards him until I'm pulled against his wet body. I press my hands against his firm abdomen as he wraps his arm around my waist in a proprietary hold.

Flirty guy wolf whistles from another part of the room. "I think he means it, Vaughn."

"Your name is Vaughn, but what's your name?" I direct my question to flirty guy.

"It's Christian," he chuckles. "I never gave you my name the other night?"

"No, you didn't, and now I understand why."

Hunter pulls me tighter as if annoyed by the exchange between me and his friend, and I struggle to free myself.

"Ick, get off me," I fuss. "You're getting me wet."

He releases me reluctantly.

"Now that all the unnecessary introductions have been made, what're you doing here, and what're you wearing?" Hunter asks me.

I quickly cross my arms over my chest in an attempt to hide whatever part of my pajamas that I can. I hadn't really been expecting anybody else to be here, but I can't back down now."

"I don't want your diamonds," I say, swallowing my embarrassment.

"Excuse me?" Hunter lifts a brow.

"What?" Vaughn and Christian echo simultaneously. "You gave her diamonds?"

"Don't you two have places to be which is not here?" Hunter gives them a dark look, which would have anyone shivering in their shoes, but not these two. They're used to it.

"Nope," Vaughn wanders over to a couch on the right and settles down, watching us. "I'm basically homeless right now."

"And my apartment is being renovated, so I've got no place to be," Christian wanders over with a tub of ice cream in his hand to perch himself on the arm of the couch.

I can see Hunter's irritation increase, and then he says in that particular tone, which never fails to bring down the temperature of the room by a few degrees, "Get out before I toss you both out of the goddamn window."

I see the eyes of both men smile, and then they get to their feet.

"Fine," Christian snaps. "But the ice cream goes with me."

He grabs his wallet off the counter and wanders out while Vaughn grabs his coat.

"You live downstairs on the seventh floor, right?" Vaughn asks.

I blink, confused by the timing of the question.

"Yes."

"And your roommate is home?"

"Yes, but–"

"Great, we'll be there."

Wait, what?

But they're already gone before I can stop them.

I whirl around to face Hunter, demanding to know, "Are they seriously going to my apartment?"

"It seems so," he replies casually.

"Don't they have money to go somewhere else?"

"Absolutely, but they refuse to go home. Some people actually enjoy my company."

"And some people smoke crack."

"Funny." Hunter chuckles and then fully opens his towel before adjusting its tightness around his waist. I reactively widen my eyes in admiration of this man's package and can't believe that giant monstrosity was ever inside of me.

He notices my response and flashes his teeth behind one of the most self-satisfied smiles I've ever seen.

"Now, tell me, Tweety Bird, what's wrong with the diamonds?"