What They Don't Know (Won't Hurt Them Trilogy #1) (15 page)

I pick up my crutches
and go to the bathroom to get myself together. My ankle is aching now
more than before. I make it to the ottoman that has now been pushed
about two feet over from the fall. I manage to get dressed in a
decent pants outfit to cover up my ankle wrap. I spike my hair
because it’s grown out so much from my pixie cut it's not as
manageable. I'm out of the house in less than an hour. I'll deal with
that cleanup later.

* * *

I called ahead to the
café to have my order ready. I'm in and out of the café in three
minutes on crutches. I even manage to pick up my boss’s favorite.
I'm on a roll... “EFF YOU, CRUTCHES!” I yell in the wind.

I call Lisa to let her
know my situation, so that she can help me in. I pull into the
office-building parking lot and there she is, sympathetic eyes and
all.

“Hey, hon; oh, you
look broken.”

I laugh. “So it
seems,” I say to her.

“Tell me what
happened, please.”

“I will, Lisa; just
let me get settled in.”

“Okay, hon. If you
need anything, just give me a ring, okay?”

“Okay, I will.”

I turn on my desktop pc
and my boss strolls in with a look of fright on his face.

“Sheesh, Bryant said
you were injured, but you look like you should have stayed home.” I
hold up one hand indicating that he should talk to it. “You could
have worked from home, love.”

“Boss, I tried, but
dumb and dumber cracked my laptop.”

He looks at me
suspiciously. “Dumb and dumber?”

“Bryant and Cruz,”
I confirm to him.

“What the hell?” he
asks.

“There was an
incident.”

“Oh no, Bria. You
weren't hurt again, were you? And should I ask who is who?”

“Does it matter?” I
laugh.

“At least you're
witty and upbeat about it.”

“I'm pissed, boss.”

“Well, I'm not sure I
want to know what went on. However, I need to know if this changes
any business interactions with the two of them. And how long will you
be on crutches?

“I will be completely
fine by the weekend; it’s just a twist, no sprain or break.”

“Good, good,” he
says.

“You must have
something for me this week.”

He wiggles his
eyebrows. “I do indeed. I think you'll love it!”

“Yay, something to
take my mind off Jack and Ass.” We both laugh. “To answer your
other concern, I'm not sure. It was such a stupid, heated incident.”

“Ahh, jealousy,”
Mr. Wilke says matter-of-factly.

“How did you know
that, boss?”

“Two successful men
and a gorgeous, successful woman, it was bound to happen.”

“I don't know what to
do, boss.” I put my face in my hands.

“Follow your heart,”
my boss responds, and I quickly raise my head.

“No, boss. I'm not
feeling like that.”

“I don't know what
you mean, Bria.”

“I'm not in love. I
mean I care for Bryant, and I don't know Cruz all that well.” I
sigh and put my face back in my hands.

“Bria, dear, that's
unhealthy.”

“Boss, it’s not
that I don't want to be with anyone. I just don't want that now, at
this point.”

“What point is that?”
he asks.

“I'm busy, boss. I
have no time for a social life or a love life.”

“What are you afraid
of?”

“Nothing,” I say,
but it’s a lie. I'm very afraid. Love is too complicated; pain and
disappointment are too harsh. However, the act of any of that doesn't
scare me; it's letting a person in. It's exposing yourself to another
person. It's worrying about whether or not he or she will like you or
fall in love with you for that matter, for who you really are. I like
being alone. No façade, no being someone I'm not. Just to be liked.
Take me or leave me the way I am, and that's it. If they can't take
me the way I am, it fucks with my head. It makes me believe there's
something wrong with me. So if I can eliminate that part of exposing
myself, relationships will be easier. But then again who wants
anything that’s easy...

“Bria, sunshine.
Bria, love, come back.”

“Oh crap, yeah,
boss?”

He laughs. “I'll
leave you alone on this one and let you be. When things slow down, I
would like to see you setting up a suite for you and your fantasy
lover.”

“Ugh, boss, please,
just stop it.” He laughs and gestures a thank you for the coffee as
he leaves my office.

I hear my phone chime.
I check it, and it is a text from Cruz.

Aww, that's sweet of
him... wait, no! I am pissed.

However, it does help.

The day goes by
quickly; I order in and only have two bathroom trips. I'm doing
great.

“Bria, love, will you
be available Friday and Saturday evening?” My boss pops his head
into my office holding his phone.

“Friday, definitely.
Saturday, I'm going out.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

“Oh, really?”

“No, boss, not what
you think. Just a few girls.”

“Oh, right; you and
Lisa, wild nights out.”

I slap my hand over my
mouth. “How did you know about that?”

“Bria, I have
people.” He laughs. “No worries, love.

Go ahead and get out of
here. I’ll lock up.”

I eye my boss. “I
know that look, boss. What are you up to?”

“Who me? You know, a
little of this, a whole lot of that.”

I laugh and pack up as
quickly as possible. I don't want to run into Frenchie or wifey.
My
boss, the stud
, I laugh to myself.

“Okay, boss, I'm
gone,” I yell down the hall. I don't get a reply; his door is
already closed. “I'm not even,” I say under my breath.

* * *

On my drive home, I
think about the mess I have to deal with in my room. I really can't
do anything until I can walk fully on my foot again. Good thing my
room wasn't a total mess, I can pick up a few things to help the
situation in there. I definitely will be sleeping in the guest room.

As I drive down my
block, I can see a delivery truck near my house. I get closer and
notice it’s in front of my house. Both Cruz and Bryant are standing
in my doorway as the delivery guys remove what looks like a new bed
from the truck.

I park as close as I
can without blocking the truck in. Both men come to my car to help me
out. Cruz grabs my crutches and handbag, which shocks me, but shock
is replaced with a single thought.
Typical
.
He hands them to Bryant who takes them without a word.

“Hi, guys, what's all
this?”

“Bree, we replaced
your bed and laptop,” Bryant answers.

“We also cleaned up
the mess in your room,” Cruz adds. “I can't believe you left your
room such a mess,” he says with a silly smirk on his face. I
attempt to smack him in the chest, but opt out, knowing I’ll fall
over.

“So you two are okay
now? You kissed and made up?”

“We're cool,” they
both say.

“I'm not too sure
about the making up part,” Bryant confesses. “Look, Bria. I was
going to tell you about Cassie.”

“Uh.” I hold up one
hand to Bryant; he sighs in defeat. I really don't want to hear what
he has to say about Cass. “Let's not do this outside, guys,” Cruz
picks me up again. I don't even bother telling him I've been getting
around fine all day. I think he's just compelled to touch me.

“Honey, have you
eaten?” Cruz asks as we bounce up my driveway. Bryant in tow eyeing
me like he's clearly upset. We get into the house and the delivery
guys look like they are finishing up. I turn to look at Bryant.

“What were you
thinking?” I shake my head in disbelief.

Cruz excuses himself to
offer help to the deliverymen.

“Bree, I was going to
tell you.”

“When? When you two
eloped? I can't even look at you right now. I'm not mad because you
didn't tell me. I'm pissed because of the consequences. Do you
remember what it was like when you found out she was cheating on
you?” I try to whisper but my words are louder than a whisper yell.
“Bryant, I can't be there for you when you bump your head on this
one. I just can't.”

“Bree, it’s not
like you want me,” he reminds me a bit too loud.

“Bry, you know what
that will be like. Are you getting back with her?” He just stares
into the other room.

“Are you?” I yell.

“I don't know.” He
pauses and hands me my purse.

“You don't fucking
know. You know, Bry. Don’t give me that shit.”

“You know what, Bria.
I don't expect you to understand shit about this.”

“What… You and
Cass?” I scoff. “Please, that's nothing. You're right. I don't
know anything about that twisted relationship.”

“Twisted
relationship, Bree? C'mon, really. Like I said, you wouldn't
understand. It's not as if you’ve ever been in love with anyone.
Shit,” he laughs. “You don't even kiss when you fuck.

“You bastard!” I
slap him square across his face. Before I know it, Cruz has grabbed
and hoisted me up and away from Bryant.

“That's what she
does, man,” Bryant spits. As Cruz carries me to the nearest room
away from Bryant, I can hear him still yelling out in my sitting
room.

“Be warned, Cruz. Her
love is unhealthy!” he yells.

“FUCK YOU, BRYANT!
FUCK YOU, SELFISH BASTARD!”

I hear my door slam.
I'm trying not to cry. But being in my bathroom with a man I met less
than two weeks ago, has me fighting back the tears threatening to
surface. Cruz is standing in my bathroom rubbing his hand. He looks
at me and gives me a small smile.

“Happy now?” I ask.

“About?”

“What do you think?
Bryant, he's not coming back.”

“Yes, he will,”
Cruz assures me.

“No. This is bigger
than any fight we've ever had.”

“So.”

“So?” I question.

“Yeah. So.” He
shrugs. He pushes away from the door. “You’re acting like this
girl isn't going to hurt him again, Bria.” He laughs. “He knows
it and you know it. Shit, I even know it and I know nothing about
their shit. He'll come running back, and you'll have your ‘bestie’
back,” he speaks sarcastically.

“Too bad I won't be
here,” I say, shaking my head.

“Yes, you will,”
Cruz says as he tilts his head to the side as if he doesn’t believe
me.

“No, Cruz. I'm
serious. I won't in any way.”

“Well, I hope not in
any way other than lending an ear or a pat on the back. Not any of
that other shit you two did,” he says as he waves his hands in the
air.

“What shit?”

“Bria, if you fuck
Bryant beyond what you already have, I'll lose my damn mind.”

I just shake my head
and walk away, well, attempt to walk away.

“Ouch, dammit.” He
holds me up.

“You need to stay off
it,” Cruz demands.

“Don't you have any
gyms to run or something?”

“Or something, I have
managers, Bria.”

“What about
sixty-nine industries?” I ask, getting annoyed by his presence. He
laughs.

“I'm where I need to
be, Bria. I ordered pizza. I didn't know what you liked.”

“Pizza is fine, Cruz,
thanks. I just need to shower and change.”

“Okay, can you at
least stand? I can give you privacy.”

“Thanks,” I say in
a hushed tone. I'm not sure what’s come over me all of a sudden,
but tears pool in my eyes. All of Bryant’s words start to stab at
me. His words hurt because they are true. I've never been hurt by
anyone to feel this way. I've just never wanted to have any of that.
Love, relationships, it's all too much for me. I'm simple. I love
simple things with the best of me. Do I have high standards? Of
course, I do; they are just as simple. I don't want anyone or
anything from those standards.

“Honey, are you
okay?” he asks in a low, gruff tone.

“Yeah, just having a
moment,” I confess.

He nods. “I'll let
you get comfortable.” I take off my clothes and head to the shower
after he leaves the room. I turn the water on and let it cascade over
my hair and down my body. I try to let the water wash away all my
worries and pain; the pain Bryant caused with his words and the
worries of his business with Cruz. I feel refreshed as I hop on one
foot and tiptoe on the other. As I look at my ankle I notice the
swelling has gone down, thanks to the trash can elevation at work. I
wrap myself in a towel and hobble into my bedroom. This bed is so
freaking huge it catches my breath.

“Bryant said you love
his bed in his guest room; we decided you deserved one.”

I turn holding my towel
tight. “You guys didn't have to do this.” He puts his finger on
the side of his temple and scratches.

“I know, but—”

“But my bed was
fine,” I interrupt Cruz.

He laughs. “Bria,
that bed was done for.” He continues to chuckle. “If I didn't
break it from that slam, I'm sure I was going to break it sooner or
later.”

I hop away from where
he’s standing because the heat from his body is drawing me toward
him.

This guy is ruthless;
he's standing in the middle of my bedroom telling me how he was going
to break my bed anyway while I'm standing naked… in a towel that’s
so short you get an eyeful of thigh. I'm sitting on the edge of the
bed gripping my towel so hard that you can see the color change on my
knuckles.

He walks toward the bed
and shakes the footboard, then pushes it with his knee.

“Yeah, this is
sturdy,” he confirms.

I’m sitting here
trying not to be nervous about my nakedness.

“Um, has the pizza
arrived?”

“Yeah, you hungry?”

“I am. I need to get
changed first.”

Cruz is standing on one
side of me still nudging the bed with his knee.