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Braden.
    I ha ven’t seen him since the day at my apartment. 
    Sure, he’s called and texted me every day—sometimes two and three times a day—but I have been successful at keeping him at bay.  Meaning I’ve been here and he’s been anywhere but here.  He always wanted to know how I was doing.  Did I need anything?  It was actually kind of sweet.
    He is wearing a light-washed pair of jeans, his black ass-kicker boots, and a long-sleeved blue shirt that stretched heavenly across his chest and hugged his muscular arms. Topping it off was his trademark black Under Armour hat.
    My God, he always looks so good.
    “Braden .” Holly nods and steps aside to let him in.
     
    He flashes her one of his sweet boyish smiles. “Holly.  How are you?” he asks as he leans in, and giving her a quick hug.
    “I’m good.  Just getting ready to catch a movie.  Would you like a beer?”
    Now why the hell is she offering him a beer?  He isn’t staying, is he? 
    Braden has a grin on his face when he sees the shock on mine.
    What do I do?  Do I say something?  Sit, have a drink. Oh and by the way, thanks again for saving my life.  Sorry I’ve been avoiding you like the plague, but really, you could do so much better. Probably not.
    I put my glass of wine on the coffee table in front of me and stand up, wiping my hands down the front of my pajama bottoms, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles.
    After I got settled in at Holly’s, I did a lot of reflecting over what happened.  I still don’t know what my intent was for showing up at the bar that night except that I knew Braden would be able to protect me.  I can’t help but think that it was so much more than that, but I can’t think about that right now.  My mind is a mess as it is. I don’t need to add this to it.
    “Sure, thanks.”
    Braden moves again, coming right toward me.  He slips his arms around my waist and pulls me close to his sexy, warm body. 
    “Em,” he says against my head as he plants a tender kiss to my forehead.
    I tilt my head back to look at him.
    He stares down at me.  I back up at him.  Holly clears her throat. 
    I do a slow blink, turning to her.
    She twist s off the cap and hands Braden a beer.  “Well, I think I am going to go and…ummm…wash my hair.  Yep, just going to go and wash my hair.“
    “What is it with you girls and washing your hair?” Braden mumbles.
    Oh God!
    “Emma, if you need me, just holler.”
    Holly twirls on her heels and bounces out of the room. 
    Traitor.
    Braden still has one arm around my waist, and I swear I want to crawl into a hole and die. 
    “Em,” Braden says, breaking me out of my stupor. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly.  Oh my, his eyes are soft and kind and downright gorgeous.
    “I’m good” I answer immediately.
    He brings his hand up to my jaw and his thumb trails along my cheek.
    I hold my breath or stop breathing altogether—not sure which one—while he watches his thumb circle the spot on my cheek that once was bruised.
    “Talk to me , baby.”
    “I promise, I am doing much better than I was the last time we had t his conversation,” I whisper, my heart kicking up a few beats.
    Damn, he still ha s that effect on me.
    His eyes were are so warm and full of something I have seen before. 
    I shake my head, trying to clear it.  No, it's definitely NOT that.
    Braden removes his hand from my waist and grips my hand.  “Come on. Sit.”
    I sit.
    He hand s me my wine and I drain half of it in one gulp.
    We sit on the couch while some show about a guy who was filming a documentary on internet dating where these poor people would meet and nine times out of ten they weren’t who they claimed to be is on.
    It started with a guy who met the love of his life online only to find out a year later that she was indeed a he.  Poor bastard .
    I am sure it’s a good show, but my mind keeps wandering elsewhere.
    Like to trying to figure out why Braden is sitting here with me on a