“Brad, you really didn’t need to—”
“I know. But I saw it and all I could think about was how hot it would look on you, and I couldn’t resist.”
“I hate you spending money on me like I’m some cheap—”
“Don’t you dare,” he warns, backing me toward my flat with what I think he believes is a dangerous glare. But honestly, it’s nothing compared to the one Nico can turn on when he’s truly pissed off.
Thoughts of him cut through me like a knife.
I really thought he’d have shown his face at some point today.
There’s no way he’s satisfied with the threat he made me on Wednesday afternoon in the library. That’s not Nico’s style.
Unless he’s waiting until I return on Monday…
Dread slowly drips through my veins.
“Go and put this on, let your hair down,” he says, his eyes jumping to my curlers and reminding me that they’re there, “and then we’re hitting the town.”
“Brad, I’m still not feeling—”
“You told me earlier you were feeling better,” he argues.
He’s not lying. I did tell him that when I finally replied to his messages, but I didn’t say it expecting him to turn up and pull this stunt.
“It’s Friday night, Brianna. Don’t you want to go and enjoy the beginning of the weekend?”
My lips part, my refusal right on the tip of my tongue. But with the way he studies me, I know that he’ll question me if I say no.
I never say no.
I’m always up for a good time. Or at least I was until Nico turned the tables on me and started making me question everything I do that doesn’t involve him. If he is part of the decision making my brain apparently fires differently.
“O-of course I do,” I stutter like an idiot. “It’s just been a tough few days.”
“Even more reason to dress up and feel better about yourself.”
Hanging the dress bag over my bedroom door, he pulls the zip down and reveals the contents.
Inside is the slickest, most stunning little black dress I think I’ve ever seen.
It is so my style, but it probably cost more than a month’s rent.
And it was selected by Brad. That little fact takes away some of its charm.
“It’s stunning,” I say, my eyes eating up the soft looking fabric.
“It’s nothing on the hanger. On your curves though…” He fists his mouth as his gaze drops down my onesie-clad body as if I’m already wearing it.
His green eyes darken as he tugs his full bottom lip into his mouth.
But just like Carl earlier, I get no reaction.
That’s never been an issue with Brad before. He’s hot. Really fucking hot. Even more so if he keeps his mouth shut, especially when talking about his dull fucking job.
There’s only one answer for all of it.
Nico has fucking broken me.