Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

DANIELA

Braden got out of the car and quickly walked around to the passenger side, opening my door for me.

"Milady," he said with a wink.

Despite the knot that was forming in my stomach at the thought of walking through the sea of paparazzi at the door, I couldn't help chuckling as I climbed out of the car. He shut the door behind me, and I took a deep breath for fortitude and linked my arm through his as we started to walk toward the door.

"Just breathe and walk, beautiful," he whispered. "You've got this."

Damn it, why did he have to be so sweet? Why was he making it harder and harder to hate him with each passing day?

And dear God, seeing him with Isaac when he got to my apartment. Looking at the smile on his face, which had seemed so genuine, all of the doubts and questions I'd had since day one had come back to the surface, stronger than ever before.

I didn't know how much longer I could do this. How much longer I could go without getting answers to the questions that were starting to keep me up at night. How much longer I could pretend the baby Braden had been holding and talking to tonight wasn't his. And – worst of all – how much longer I could deny the way I felt when I was around him.

As we approached the restaurant, one of the photographers turned to look at us, and as soon as he recognized Braden, he started snapping pictures. And that was all it took for the mayhem to ensue. Within seconds, flashes were going off all around us as questions started getting fired at Braden at lightning speed.

"Braden! Over here!"

"Look this way, Braden!"

"Braden, who's the girl?"

"Have you finally decided to settle down?"

"Is the team benching you after the incident with Jeff Hollister?"

I heard Braden groan under his breath at that last question as he held the door open for me before following me in. As soon as the door shut behind us, he let go of my arm and pulled me into his side, rubbing my shoulder. Before I even realized it, I was returning his one-armed embrace and leaning further into him.

And I couldn't find the strength to stop it.

Why couldn't I find the strength to stop it? Why was I letting him break down all my defenses like this? Why was I taking comfort in his touch and even encouraging it?

"You did great, sweetheart," he murmured. "It gets easier, I promise."

My eyes burned with tears as guilt gnawed at my insides. I wished I'd never agreed to any of this. But it was too late to back out now.

"Hi. Braden Hicks for two," he said to the hostess, pulling me out from under the weight of my thoughts.

"Your table's ready, Mr. Hicks. This way," the woman said, grabbing two menus and starting to lead us into the dining area.

Braden reached for my hand as we followed her, and even though I wanted to draw a line in the sand because there weren't any photographers around anymore, I couldn't bring myself to do it. We were still in public, after all. Who knew if some other random patron was going to have their phone out and end up snapping a picture of us?

I was just playing my part, like I'd agreed to do in the contract I'd signed. Right?

"So, what made you want to be a doctor?" Braden asked over our mouthwatering appetizers of steak tartare and baked brie.

I shrugged and took a sip of my sangria. "I've always kind of been a fixer. Like, when my friends are in trouble, I always look for ways to do something about it. So I guess becoming a doctor was sort of the next logical step."

"Do you know what you want to specialize in? Or do you just want to go into general medicine?"

"Until recently, I was thinking about pediatrics. But now…I think I want to go into rheumatology," I said with a sigh.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he took a long pull from his beer. "Like autoimmune diseases?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Um, the hospital did an autopsy after Amara… It turned out she had undiagnosed lupus. That's why she wasn't able to fight off the postpartum infection and went septic so fast. I guess I just want to do what I can to make sure other families don't have to go through what I did. Like try to make sure symptoms aren't ignored and written off, you know? But maybe I'd be more useful as a primary care doctor, where I could notice those things and refer patients to the right specialists. So I guess I don't really know yet."

He flashed a smile that was so warm, so genuine , that it made my heart squeeze a little. Like he'd really been listening to my rambling and was happy to see how passionate I was about wanting to help people.

"I mean, you've got time. You're about to get your bachelor's degree, so you've still got…what, four more years of school?"

"Yep. And then at least three years of residency. I probably sound crazy to think I can do that with a kid, but…I mean, I don't know what else I'd even want to do," I mumbled.

Braden reached a hand across the table and placed it over mine, and once again, a spark ran all the way through me. For a second, it almost felt…real. Like he wasn't playing games or putting on a show. Like we were actually on a date.

And somehow, the idea of that didn't seem as horrible as it had a week and a half ago.

Why didn't it seem as horrible? Why was I allowing myself to open up to him like this? I shouldn't have even been telling him this much about myself. Because the more I told him, the more he'd want to know. And if I wasn't careful, I'd end up slipping and asking him questions about himself too. Such as why he was being so nice to me now when he'd been so unforgivably cruel to my sister.

"You don't sound crazy, Dani," he said quietly. "You sound determined. Just because you're a parent now, it doesn't mean you can't have your own goals and dreams. You're one of the strongest women I've ever met, and I admire the hell out of you. No matter what ends up happening after all this is over, that won't change."

Right. Unless you find out who I really am. And who that baby you were holding tonight is. Then you'll hate me…almost as much as I need to hate you.

"Thanks," I murmured with half a smile. "That's nice of you to say."

"It's not just words, sweetheart. I mean it," he insisted, giving the hand he hadn't let go of a slight squeeze.

"I don't have a choice." I sighed. "Isaac needs me. I can't just nope out of being his guardian because it's hard."

"You could have. A lot of people in your position probably would have. But you didn't because that's not who you are. You're loyal to the people you care about. I can tell that already. And it's something we have in common. There's nothing I wouldn't do for my family either, chosen or blood-related."

Sure, there's not. Except when it came to the woman who died after giving birth to your child.

There it was. The anger. The almost-comforting ire that had been my constant companion ever since that heart monitor had flatlined. That was what I needed to hold on to.

"So, there's something I wanted to ask you," he said, snapping me back to the present, where I still had to act like I was actually enjoying spending time with him. "Kyler's documentary premiere is in Miami at the end of June. Do you think you'd be able to come down there with me? We'd have to spend the night, so I understand if the answer's no because of Isaac, but I'd really appreciate it if you can swing it."

I sighed. I wanted to say no – solely because I didn't know how I was going to be able to put on a show with him every single second that eyes would be on us down there – but I also knew I had to hold up my end of our bargain.

"Let me talk to Lina," I said. "I'm not comfortable just leaving him with her overnight and going four hours away, but I'll see if she can come with and watch him while we're at the premiere. And I'm guessing there's an after-party we'd have to make an appearance at too, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Bailey Knight is going to be performing."

"Bailey Knight?" I practically squealed as my eyes went wide. "Seriously?"

That made him grin and laugh. "Yep. She wrote a song for the film."

"Oh, my God. Now I'm going to be so upset if Lina can't do it," I chuckled weakly. "I love Bailey Knight."

"I will be too. But not because of Bailey Knight. Because I like spending time with you," he said, his smile never faltering.

I swallowed hard as I tried my damnedest to school my features so he wouldn't see the battle I was currently fighting in my mind. The war I was waging with myself to keep the fury I was clinging to like a lifeline front and center.

I couldn't let go of that. I just wasn't ready, and I wasn't sure if I ever would be. Because the second I let go of the wrath, all that would be left was pain and emptiness. And that would swallow me whole.

"You ready to go?" Braden asked as he signed the credit card slip…after adding a five-hundred-dollar tip, which was more than the bill.

He'd tried to hide the paper from me, but I had caught a glimpse while he was putting his card back in his wallet. And it almost made me sick to my stomach thinking about how much money he was dropping on this date that wasn't even real. I was struggling to keep my head above water, and he was able to drop close to a thousand dollars on dinner like it was nothing. Hell, it had probably barely made a dent in his bank account to pay Lina's salary and give me fifty grand to make some public appearances with him.

Yet he wouldn't spend a single red cent on his own kid. No matter how many fancy dinners and events he took me to, I couldn't let myself forget that.

I nodded. "Yeah. What do you want me to do if there's still photographers out front?"

"Same thing you did when we walked in. Breathe and walk. I'll talk to you like they're not there, and maybe drop your first name if you're okay with it?"

"It's okay," I said, letting out a long breath as I pushed my chair back and stood up. "My name's going to end up getting out at some point anyway, right?"

"Most likely, but it doesn't have to be tonight if you don't want it to be." He got up and held out his hand, which I took, ignoring the spark that I'd now come to expect whenever he touched me.

"No use putting off the inevitable," I told him as we started to walk toward the front of the restaurant.

While the number of people waiting outside with their cameras had thinned out, they hadn't disappeared entirely. So, pasting a smile on my face, I squared my shoulders as Braden led me out the door.

"So, what'd you think, Dani?" he asked me as the cameras started to flash in our faces. "Did it live up to the hype?"

"Yeah, it was great," I said. "That crème br?lée was to die for."

Not that he could have heard my response over the shouting of the half-dozen people who were snapping pictures and firing questions at us.

"Braden, who's Dani?"

"Where'd you meet this girl?"

"Braden, what's happening with the Dragons this year?"

"What do you have to say about the rumor that Harold Reeves is benching you?"

Once again, Braden groaned at the mention of his career, and then he took a deep breath, like he was trying to stop himself from snapping at the jerk. And honestly, I wouldn't have blamed him for it. Professional football players kept playing after way worse infractions than he'd committed, but this was what the gossip rags wanted to focus on? Had it just been an exceptionally slow news month or something?

As we approached his Escalade, Braden turned to me and tucked some hair behind my ear as he leaned forward slightly.

"I wasn't going to do this tonight, but…is it okay if I kiss you?" he whispered. "I just want them to start talking about something other than Jeff fucking Hollister. But I won't do it yet if you don't want me to."

A knot started to form in my stomach as I let out a shaky exhale.

I didn't want him to kiss me. Ever. But I'd already made my deal with the devil. Kissing him was going to be part of my job description at some point in the very near future. What difference did it make whether it was now or in two weeks? It wouldn't change how I felt about doing it.

"You can kiss me." The words trembled out of my mouth, like they were as hesitant to be spoken as I was to voice them.

He gave me a nervous smile as he cupped my face in his palm and rubbed his thumb over my cheek, making my skin tingle, unbidden, where he'd touched it. Sending sparks of electricity all the way through me as my whole body tensed in anticipation of what was about to happen. Then he closed the gap between us and lightly brushed his lips over mine once, twice, three times.

As I played my part, kissing him back, that damn knot in my stomach – the hesitation, fear, and fury I'd been holding onto – betrayed me and turned into butterflies. I felt this featherlight connection all the way down to my bones, once again starting to chip away at the fortress of fury I'd built up around my heart.

And, for the life of me, I couldn't understand why. I wasn't built like this. I didn't get butterflies in my stomach from a kiss. I couldn't feel physical attraction to someone without a connection.

So why did I feel this way about a man I wouldn't have pissed on if he was on fire?