Cocky Romance (Billionaire Dads)

MAX

If I could pretend that spending a week avoiding Dawn Banner had successfully erased her from my mind and restored my usual antipathy for the world, I would have.

But not seeing her for the better part of two weeks has been an absolute terror on my life.

My equilibrium’s shot.

My mind jumps to her whenever I see anything mildly related to cars, engines, or auto repair.

It’s come to the point that I keep a bottle of engine fluid in my desk drawer just so I can pull it out, close my eyes and get a whiff of her garage.

On the outside, I’m the gruff and demanding leader of a powerful group of companies.

On the inside, I’m a nut case.

I’d like to believe that this storm will pass, but dirty dreams of Dawn inside and outside of those jumpsuits and cold showers are now my two best friends. I keep picturing her with her eyes glistening and her lips dripping my name. It’s enough to jumpstart every hormone in my body.

I’m busy enough without this distraction.

The board wants me to revitalize Stinton Investment just like I did for Stinton Auto. After being misunderstood and proving her abilities in the face of all the doubts, Dawn’s become invincible. Online haters think twice about coming after her and, by knock-off effect, they’re tiptoeing around any negative press about Sinton Group.

I’ve ramped up her television and podcast appearances, banking on the scandal-turned-prime opportunity. The world’s been lapping up every bit of Dawn that they can find. She’s the queen of the nation’s heart.

Which makes it even more important to keep her and Beth safe.

I have a dedicated team now, scourging the internet looking for any mention of Beth’s daughter and blacking it out in real time.

Keeping those two out of my family’s eye is fast becoming a priority.

Neck and neck with that objective is the next phase of Stinton Group’s rebrand. Now, I’m trying to get the rest of our companies to the same level as Stinton Auto.

It’s tougher than it looks.

There’s only one Dawn.

And it just so happens that I can’t stop thinking about her.

Great freaking timing.

Especially since she’s gone radio silent.

She hasn’t responded to my text about leaving on a business trip. Hasn’t said so much as a thank you for the conference.

Not that I did it to get her thank you.

But it would have been nice to at least keep in touch.

Holy crap. I’m whining about a woman not texting me.

Perhaps I grew too used to her sharp words and her even sharper glares. Maybe I miss the way those Africa combs she favored used to clack all over the place so I knew she was coming before she said a word.

My world seems monochrome without her oversized jumpers and soft afro passing through the peripherals of my vision, a flash of dark skin and dark eyes warming me from the inside out.

I move through the Stinton Group offices and the world feels… colorless. Bleak. Like we took a loss in the stock market, even though reality says that Dawn—and by extension Stinton Group—are seeing an unimaginable boost in popularity.

She’s upholding her end of the bargain so well that I don’t need to keep my hands on the wheel anymore.

I can’t—shouldn’t hover around her.

Keeping my distance from her is the right thing to do.

Especially now that dad’s watching me closely.

I think back to the night before the press conference when he showed up at my house.

“You don’t make stupid decisions, Max. Everything you’ve done has been for the good of Stinton Group, but this is getting out of hand. You impulsively put a stranger as the face of Stinton Auto without consulting the board. Then you keep her around after this scandal. She’s caused immense damage to the company and you still haven’t cut your losses. What secret does this young lady have over you?”

“You’re wrong. She has nothing over me.”

“Then what secret do you have over her?”

I’m relieved dad had to ask that question. It means he hasn’t found out about Elizabeth yet, but if I keep lightly stalking Dawn, following her home and showing up at all her press tours and photoshoots, he’s going to notice that something’s up.

I’ve never been this involved in a Stinton Group asset. Once the product is performing, I hand it off to someone else and move on to either dismantling or building up another brand.

So that’s what I did. After the conference, I handed over Dawn’s promotions to Hills.

Something he’s made very clear that he’s annoyed about.

Or maybe what he’s annoyed by is the daily updates I demand from him in the name of business.

… so what if I like to keep abreast of my… investments. Dawn’s an employee of Stinton Auto. There’s nothing wrong with checking up on her.

I drop my eyes to my tablet and stare at the latest picture of Dawn on her press tour. She’s the darling of daytime TV, hamming it up with the brightly-clothed hosts who are eager to talk about her joys and challenges navigating a male-dominated industry.

Celebrities are raving about her too. Not just Mila Dubois—who was quick to ooh and ah over the great job Dawn did fixing her car, but also female athletes and famous comedians.

There was even an SNL sketch about the Mila drama, where the actors portrayed how Dawn must have felt when Mila called her out for a wrong she didn’t do.

The world can’t take its eyes off her.

Neither can I.

And it makes me so frustrated I could explode.

I scroll to another picture of her and start drooling like a dog with a bone. In this one, she’s wearing one of her trademark jumpers that clings to her body. Her hair’s in an exaggerated afro, like someone picked out her usual hairstyle until it expanded to a lion’s mane. There are flowers tucked into her hair like she’s some kind of priceless chocolate sculpture and I can’t help but wish I could have seen her in person rather than spying on her online like a creep.

On paper, I’m still her boss.

I still own that face, that online personality.

It’s fully within my right to call her into my office for an update.

But having such intimate access to her is exactly why I have to keep my distance.

Dawn Banner is off limits.

Even if her lips, painted a maroon shade in the video, tempt me like a siren to a wayward sailor.

Even if her sparkling eyes tells me she’s getting more and more comfortable in front of the camera.

Even if I want to personally hunt down all the thirsty comments under her videos from men talking about how they’d love to ‘get under her hood’ and ‘make her engine purr’.

If there will be any purring of Dawn’s engine, it’ll be from me, dammit.

The door suddenly bursts open. Hills barges into my office as he always does, eyes narrowed and lips turned down. Throwing himself into the couch, he flings his skinny tie over his shoulder. “I can’t do this anymore.”

I snap my tablet closed and grab my pen, flicking it through my fingers. “What?”

“Babysit Dawn. It’s driving me nuts.” He swings his legs around and plants them on the floor. “All she wants to do is fix cars. I have to pry her away to hair and makeup and then I have to coax her into playing nice with the television hosts. Do you know how ignorant people are? Every time one of the hosts says something dumb, I cringe and then start praying Dawn doesn’t hit someone on national television.”

“It’s not that difficult.” Although she really does love swinging her fists.

“Maybe for you.” He scowls at me. “You and Dawn are exactly alike. The difference is she’s snappier about it.”

I don’t expect the longing that roils in my gut, but it hits me hard, surging down my spine and tensing my muscles. I fight to keep the expression from crawling over my face and exposing my thoughts to Hills.

My fingers still on the pen, I mutter, “You’re the one who offered to handle her.”

“Only because you were rejecting all the other project managers left and right.”

“Dawn Banner is the face of Stinton Auto. I needed someone who’d understand the gravity of the assignment.”

“No, you didn’t want anyone taking over her project in the first place.” He flings angry eyes at me.

I ignore the critical look and pick up a folder on my desk, pretending to be engrossed in the latest profit margins. “The board’s expecting bigger and better things to roll out now. You know I don’t have time to oversee her—”

“Bull. But you have time to hunt me down to ask about Dawn constantly. That’s why you didn’t want a different project manager. You knew that would raise eyebrows, so you threw her on my lap like a hot potato. Now I have to deal with the two of you.” He rolls his eyes. “I feel like a soccer mom carrying twins.”

I cringe at the image. “If it’s so tough, then take a break. Dawn’s been working non-stop too. She deserves one.”

“A vacation sounds nice.”

“I said take a break from Dawn, not work. There’s plenty to do in the office.”

Hills groans. “I thought you’d loosen up now that you have a thing for Dawn. I can’t believe you’re still working like a machine.”

“I don’t have a thing for Dawn.”

My best friend gives me a ‘yeah right’ look.

“It’s just business,” I insist, although I’ve never felt the inclination to insist about anything with Hills before and that alone gives me away.

He flaps his arms over his eyes. “Max, you’re not fooling anyone, so just give it up.”

Yeah, I know.

I have trouble keeping my own mind in check. How can I convince someone like Hills that it’s just business when I can’t seem to believe it myself?

Doesn’t matter. I need to get my head screwed on straight before I start crossing even more lines. Just because those lines are in my head doesn’t make it any less dangerous. My wicked fantasies about Dawn are happening more frequently. My obsession is growing and if it continues unchecked, someone important is going to notice.

Like dad.

Like the board.

Like Dawn herself.

I tap my fingers against the desk and shake my head.

Just then, my phone pings.

One glance at the screen turns me to stone.

It’s Dawn.

I withdraw into my usual expression of indifference as I pick up the phone. “Get out, Hills. I need to take this call.”

“Which call?” He stretches lazily.

“None of your business.” I scowl at him. “Out. Now.”

He scoffs at me, picks himself out of the couch and plods through the door.

The moment he’s gone, I press the phone to my ear and speak in a crisp voice. “Dawn.”

“This is Elizabeth,” a sweet voice says.

My heart flips over in shock. Elizabeth?

The surprise is quickly followed by confusion.

Does Dawn know Elizabeth’s calling me?

“My mom doesn’t know I’m calling you,” she says in a hushed voice.

That answers that.

“Um, this is Mr. Stinton, right?”

“Yes,” I croak.

It’s my first time hearing my niece’s voice. I’ve seen her handwriting and I’ve seen the pictures of her littered all over Dawn’s apartment, but wow. It’s crazy that she’s on the other end of the phone right now.

I sit up straighter in my chair. “How can I help you, Elizabeth?”

“I’m having a career day tomorrow and I want my class to win by bringing the most people. Our whole class gets pizza that way. But this other class is beating us right now.” From her tone, I can tell that she’s frowning.

My lips tremble and I pull them in to stop from chuckling. I see Elizabeth has her mother’s love of a good competition.

“I asked mom if we could invite you, but she kept saying no. That we shouldn’t bother you.”

Her words hit me straight in the gut. Too close to where my heart is beating fast.

“So I wanted to ask you myself.” Her voice is as sweet as a melody. “Can you come to my career day? It’s at John Hearst—oof!”

“Elizabeth Drew Banner, what are you doing with my phone?” Dawn roars.

“Mom, I can explain.” Elizabeth’s voice shakes like a tree in a hurricane.

Someone grunts and the sound of shuffling ensues. The phone clicks off a second later.

Eyes wide, I call back and let the phone ring until it goes to voicemail.

Then I call again.

And again.

The fourth time I get voicemail, I launch out of my chair and prepare to run to the parking garage so I can drive over to Dawn’s.

Finally, I notice her number lighting up my screen.

I pounce on the device. “Hello?”

“It’s Dawn.” She sounds breathless and I wonder if she’d been chasing my niece around. The thought makes me smile way harder than I should. “I’m sorry about that. I had no idea she was sneaking around with my phone.”

“It’s okay.” I settle into my chair.

Just business my backside.

At the sound of Dawn’s voice, it’s suddenly impossible to keep things professional. No matter how many alarm bells are pealing in my ears.

I know it’s dangerous.

I know.

Distractions make me weak.

They make me vulnerable.

And when you’re steering a giant ship like Stinton Group, vulnerability means crashing into an iceberg sooner or later.

But Dawn Banner’s got me wriggling in her grasp and there’s no escaping.

“She’s never done anything like that before.” There’s a hint of sheepishness in Dawn’s tone.

I’d love to see her embarrassed face. Almost as much as I’d love to see her flirty face and her breathless-in-the-throes-of-passion face.

I swear for the thousandth time that I won’t entertain those raunchy thoughts of Dawn Banner and yet they come barreling in anyway.

It’s the sound of her voice.

If I was prepared for it, I wouldn’t be this shaken.

“I’ll tell her you’re too busy to attend her career day.” She clears her throat. “And I’ll make sure this never happens again.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Where?”

“The career day.”

“No.”

“She went to all that trouble.” I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, imagining Dawn’s annoyed face. Now that one I’ve seen plenty. Her brows draw close in the middle of her forehead. A crease appears above her nose, wrinkling her brown skin. Her lips pull into her mouth until only a thin line is showing.

“Mr. Stinton.”

“Max.” I correct her. “You’ve been calling me Max. Don’t stop now.”

“Mr. Stinton,” she emphasizes, “I have the phone on speaker, so that Elizabeth can apologize to you. I’d like you to let her know that you’re far too busy to—”

“I’m not busy at all.”

“See, mom?” Elizabeth chimes in the background.

“Max,” Dawn grinds out, “you just checked your schedule again and you’re busy. Right?” There’s a hint of desperation in there.

A slow, evil smile spreads on my face. “Actually, I have nothing going on all day tomorrow.”

“So you’re coming, right?” Elizabeth squeals.

“If it’s alright with your mother.”

“Please, mom. Please. We’ll win for sure if he can come.”

Dawn’s dead silent for a couple seconds and I know she’s cursing me to fall off a cliff in her head.

Finally, she spits out, “I guess if it’s not too much for Mr. Stinton—”

“Not at all. I can even bring some friends along.”

“I knew it. You’re the best, Mr. Stinton. I thought so ever since you said those nice things about mom on TV.” Elizabeth chirps excitedly. “Class Two is gonna kick rocks tomorrow.”

“Elizabeth, watch your language,” Dawn scolds.

“Sorry, mom.”

I chuckle. My energy’s just shot up to a hundred for some reason. Whether it’s Elizabeth’s childish innocence or the relief of finally hearing from Dawn again or both, I feel like I could run a marathon.

“You were no help,” Dawn mumbles to me. I’m going to assume her daughter’s out of earshot because her voice is chilly enough to turn me into ice.

I prop my ankle against my knee, smiling at the view outside my window as the early morning sunshine pours into my office. “I believe in giving back to the future leaders of our country.”

“Bull. You’re doing this to annoy me.”

“I’m doing this to meet my niece. Annoying you is just a bonus.”

She makes a disgruntled sound and if she were in front of me, I’d probably grab her and kiss her. It’s a great thing that she’s safely in her apartment and far away from my misbehaving hands.

“You know I don’t want Stinton Group anywhere near Elizabeth.”

“Then I won’t go there as Max Stinton. I’ll go there as Max.”

“Can you separate yourself from that company? I don’t think you can.”

I would agree with her if it were a couple weeks ago. Before I’d met her. Before she barged into my life.

“We’ll see, won’t we?” I lower my voice. “If you were so uncomfortable with the idea, why did you agree?”

She makes a garbled sound again and then goes silent.

In a soft tone of assurance, I tell Dawn, “I’m not going to admit who I am or how I’m related to her. It’s just a simple career day. It’s just business.”

Just business?

“Hmf.” Dawn snorts under her breath.

Look at that. She doesn’t buy it either.

Vanya stomps down the stairs of her luxurious private jet, dark sunglasses on her face and a scarf billowing from her neck.

She’s wearing one of those outlandish fashion pieces that I’ve yet to find an appreciation for. The top of the dress sticks out at an odd angle like a cliff jutting over the ocean and the skirt is some kind of layered poof that’s short at the front and longer at the back.

It’s fashion, Max. Fashion, Vanya would tell me when I used to ask her why she wore those ridiculous outfits. I pulled this right off the models at Fashion Week.

If so, she needs to get her money back.

“Whoa,” Hadyn whispers beside me. He’s got his eyes locked on Vanya as if she’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Obviously, he doesn’t share my opinions about her avant-garde clothing style.

Vanya glides across the tarmac to us. The model walk—the one that she gets paid an obscene amount of money for—is hinted at in the way she moves her waist and plants one foot directly in front of the other.

She’s a tall, voluptuous woman with enough curves to make a dangerous mountainside jealous. A creamy brown complexion, high cheekbones and sultry lips complete the look of a plus sized supermodel.

Vanya pulls her sunglasses over her pixie-cut when she nears us, revealing brown eyes that are shaded in blues, reds and greens. Somehow, on her, the explosion of color looks sophisticated rather than clownish.

“What’s with the welcome party?” Vanya asks, drawing back and eyeing Hadyn. “I mean, I know why Max is here. To beg for yet another favor.”

“I never beg,” I scoff.

She rolls her eyes. “You never give me all the details either.”

“You’re the one who said you didn’t mind speaking to a room of impressionable young women eager to learn about fashion.” I lift a hand as if to say it’s not my fault.

“You didn’t tell me they were seven-year-olds, Max.” She squints at me.

I shrug. “If I had, you wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Sneaky.” She wags her finger. “You’re learning too many lessons from him.” She nods at Hadyn. “I told you Hadyn was a bad influence.”

“I’m not that sneaky. I’ve been upfront and vocal about my love for you.”

Vanya snorts. “Is that why you were sprawled over Page Six with twins on either side Friday night?”

“You’re keeping tabs on me, Vans?” Hadyn smirks. “It’s okay to admit you’re jealous.”

She glowers at him.

I step between them before they can fight. “We should get going now. We’re already late.”

“Being fashionably late is better. Keeps up the suspense.” Vanya pats my shoulder.

The thing is I hate being late. Especially today. I’ll be seeing Dawn again for the first time in weeks. And I’ll be meeting my niece in person for the first time too.

It’s a big freaking deal.

Vanya sashays toward the car I have waiting. “What exactly is the agenda? It’s nothing too long, right? I pushed back a meeting with my agent, so I only have an hour to spare.”

“An hour’s more than enough. Trust me.”

Hadyn opens the door for Vanya.

She sticks her nose up, scrambles past him and opens the door on the other side.

I almost chuckle when I see Hadyn’s annoyed look. Like Hills, he’s used to women falling all over themselves for him. Vanya only tolerates his presence because he’s close to me and she never lets him forget it.

Once we’re in the car, Jefferson gives Vanya a besotted look.

She smiles at him. “Hey, Jeff.”

“Ms. Vanya.” Jefferson’s Adam’s apple almost slaps both me and Hadyn in the face when he swallows. “Wow. You’re… you’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

“How sweet.” She lets loose a practiced chuckle.

Hadyn scoots to the edge of his seat and grips the back of Jefferson’s chair. “Hey, buddy. Why don’t you keep your eyes on the road before you lose them?”

“Hadyn, don’t intimidate my people.”

“I’m just giving him some friendly advice.” Hadyn adjusts his suit jacket. He got dressed up for Vanya. Even put some gel in his hair.

Poor guy.

Vanya doesn’t notice him at all.

She’s on her phone, making plans with her culinary team. Vanya’s the only person I know who’s busier than I am. She’s juggling a full-time super model career and a secret, insanely successful cookbook and catering empire.

When she hangs up on her business call, she flits me a dark look. “You’re lucky one of my model friends just asked me to be her baby’s godmother or I would have turned you down so fast you’d get a headache.”

“What does being a godmother have to do with this career day?” Hadyn asks.

“I’m not good with kids. I need the practice.”

I cross my arms. “Relax. They’ll be impressed that you’re a supermodel.”

“What if one of them says something out of pocket?” She purses her lips. “Like ‘aren’t you too big to be a supermodel?’ Then I’ll insult them back. Call ‘em a little booger or something. And then I’ll become the bad guy.”

Hadyn rubs his chin. “If they say anything offensive, we can sue them.”

I laugh.

Vanya pops an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Parents should have raised them better.”

Vanya scoffs. “This is why we don’t go to you for ideas.”

“Hey, I’m great with kids. You’re the one who doesn’t know what you’re doing.” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand why you’d agree to be someone’s godparent if you can’t even stand babies.”

“I never said I can’t stand babies. I said I’m not good with them.”

As Vanya and Hadyn start to fuss, I get a new message.

DAWN: Are you here yet? They’re about to start. Beth’s getting nervous.

“Ooh.” Vanya’s voice carries over to me. She’s far closer than I expect and I realize she’s peeking over my shoulder at my phone. Too late, I try to shield it from view, but she catches me and gives me a pointed smile. “Maxy’s in love.”

“What are you? Ten?” I scowl.

“It’s why she can’t get along with kids. Because she’s one of them,” Hadyn points out.

Vanya reaches across me to smack him.

“Hey, hey.” I lift up a hand to block her. “Can you guys act your age for once?”

I have no idea how mom put up with these two. They’re exhausting. And they’re clingy as hell. When mom died, they didn’t leave me alone for a second, always dropping in to annoy me to death. Always calling. Always dragging me out of my house when I didn’t feel like moving.

With them and Hills badgering me, it’s no wonder that I ran to Stinton Group to feel like I was more than just a grieving son who’d lost his world.

“I’ve been keeping up with all the Stinton Auto press junkets. Your woman is fire.” Vanya gives a nod of approval. “At first, I thought she was a fake. But the more I listened to her, the more I realized how much she genuinely loves fixing cars. It’s so inspiring. Made me want to change a tire or something.”

“Like I’d ever let those pretty hands touch a car tire,” Hadyn mutters.

I glare at him. “Pretty hands change tires all the time.”

“Watch it, Hadyn.” Vanya warns. “Stinton’s testy about this woman.”

“Trust me. I know.” Hadyn rolls his eyes.

“You care about auto repair now?” I arch an eyebrow. Vanya doesn’t even know how to change a lightbulb. Once, she called me and Hadyn over to her condo to help her set up curtain rods. The woman is hopeless.

“I love to see girls winning. Especially when they’re the underdogs.”

“Well, she’s not my woman, so you can cut that out.” I frown gruffly. “And don’t say anything weird to her when we get there either.”

Hadyn grins. “He means that. I’ve never seen him get this protective about anyone.”

“Now I’m even more intrigued.” Vanya’s eyes sparkle.

I start getting nervous.

Maybe it was a bad idea to bring these two along.

Even if it did mean that my niece could win pizza for her class.

It only takes a few moments to spot Dawn in the crowded middle school gym. It’s like she’s got a light beam over her. I’d say it’s the over-alls or the afro or those entrancing comb-shaped earrings, but I know that’s not true.

There’s just something magnetic about her. Something that pulls me in whether I like it or not.

She turns around and spots me.

I almost go stark-raving mad when her mouth forms a hint of a smile.

It’s warm.

It’s stunning.

Then she realizes she’s supposed to hate me and her expression sours.

I forget about Vanya, who’s staring at all the kids in terror and Hadyn, who’s looking at Vanya as if he’d sweep her out of there the moment she asks. I start walking and then jogging toward Dawn.

A pensive quirk to her full lips, she braces herself to speak to me. I can see her tensing up, can see her mind whirring as she tries to coax her expression into a stern one.

I stop right in front of her.

Finally, my heart sings.

She smells like spring and car oil. She looks like it too. There’s a flower clip holding back one side of her afro, but the grease-stained over-alls tells the world exactly what she does for a living.

She’s wearing a little makeup today. I don’t know when I’ve begun to differentiate between Dawn’s natural face and her made up face, but I can tell immediately. Her lips are glossier than usual. Rather than dual-toned, they’re the same luscious maroon, pure silk against her dark brown skin. As vivid as butterfly wings in motion.

Her eyes are covered in something that shimmers and it only makes the gleam of intelligence stand out more.

I stare at her face like a man who’d been crawling through the desert and stumbled on an oasis.

Yeah, this woman has given me an appreciation for dual-toned lips that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.

As she observes me in turn, her face softens and she looks almost flustered when she glances away. “You’re late.”

“Vanya’s plane was delayed.”

“Vanya?” Her eyes shoot past me. “The supermodel? That Vanya? The first black plus-sized model on the cover of Sports Illustrated?”

“Uh. Yeah. I think Vanya did a Sports Illustrated thing. How did you know?”

“She was on the Essence Hall of Fame when I went to their studio for an interview. I loved her picture so much that I looked her up. I can’t believe she’s here. I’m such a fan.”

My heart completely stalls when I see Dawn’s shy, excited grin.

Have mercy.

She has my entire soul in a chokehold.

“Mr. Stinton!” A cheerful voice sings through the crowd.

The faint stutter of my pulse rings in my ears as I watch Trevor’s daughter barrel toward us. She looks like the perfect blend of Dawn and Trevor. Tawny skin. Hazel eyes. Small, slim figure. I swear I fall in love with her on sight and I have no idea how or why.

“You made it,” Beth says, tilting her head up at me.

I notice that she has to strain to meet my eyes and lower myself to her level. “I did. And, as promised, I brought my friends.”

Bailey, Darrel’s son, clamors toward us. He’s a pale boy with bright blue eyes and giant glasses. “Yes! We definitely won! Let’s tell Mr. Hanksworth.”

The kids skitter off and Dawn relaxes a smidge.

She meets my eyes. Worries her bottom lip. Sighs. “You’re not gonna—”

I reach for her arm and squeeze because not touching her is inconceivable to me. “Don’t worry. I registered under Darrel’s name. If anyone checks, Bailey’s the reason I’m here. It has nothing to do with Beth.”

The tension in her shoulders fades away and she gives me a real, sunshine smile.

I’m stuck on her, lingering on the thick black curves of her lashes and the hints of gold caressing her smooth brown cheeks.

She’s too dangerous.

Too complicated.

Too beautiful.

Too much.

This woman is scrambling my life and I’m handing over the pieces without even realizing what I’m doing.

How can I survive another week, another day, without seeing you?

Someone makes an announcement from the podium and Dawn breaks eye contact with me.

“You ready for this?” she mumbles.

Absolutely not.

But I dip my chin and slide my body closer to hers. “Are you?”

She looks up at me and a quiet moment of understanding passes between us. “No, but it’s not like we can stop it now.”

My grip on her arm tightens.

Oh yes, this woman is definitely going to be the end of me.