Kade didn’t like when life wasn’t manageable. Orderly. Under his direct command. As a young kid, he’d thrown tantrums and acted out when he felt frazzled and overwhelmed, which resulted in his father soothing him with things. Whatever money could buy. As an adult, Kade had developed subtler techniques to handle his emotions and anxiety.
Upon entering college, he’d been unwilling to admit he needed help, instead trying to tackle his issues himself. He’d minored in psychology in a search for answers, and his studies had allowed him to accept that he had difficulties that necessitated therapy and medication. Too bad his parents hadn’t taken the time to figure that out when he was younger, but there was no point dwelling on the past now.
Derek and Luke joined him at the gym Saturday morning, where he ran hard, and they talked about everything but Julian and their potential business problem. His friends understood they were helping Kade work out his stress, and they needed to do the same. They might have his back, but their futures were at stake too.
The one bright spot in his day was an event he might otherwise find a reason to bail on and cut a nice check instead. He supported the MHA without reservation, but he wasn’t in the mood to socialize with people. He was, however, in the mood to spend the night with Lexie.
He hired a car for the night, dressed in the tuxedo he tried to wear as little as possible in any given calendar year, and gave the driver Lexie’s address.
He’d planned to pick her up at her apartment door but instead found her waiting downstairs at exactly the time he said he’d arrive.
She was dressed in a white dress with an off-the-shoulder contrasting black band; the hem fell high in the front, revealing her gorgeously tanned legs and black sandal heels. The dress skimmed her luscious, mouth-watering curves. And her hair fell over her shoulder in long curls, making his fingers itch to wrap themselves around the long strands and tug while he kissed her bright red mouth.
She took his breath away. Every long minute he’d waited to see her this weekend had been worth it, and as he climbed out of the car to greet her, a single red rose in his good hand, he needed a second to steady his breathing and calm his sudden, burning need.
“Lexie,” he said, walking up to her. She glanced up at him and smiled. “You look gorgeous.”
A pretty blush stained her cheeks. “Thank you.” She reached up and straightened his bow tie. “You dress up nicely yourself.”
She slid her hand down his lapel, and it was all he could do not to grab her small wrist, pull her against him, and let her feel the depths of his desire.
He extended the rose, the same color as her lips, the flower the only means he could come up with to convey he was glad she’d agreed to join him.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Not as exquisite as you.” He couldn’t stop the compliments, and when she smiled radiantly, he didn’t want to. “Are you ready to go?” he asked in a roughened voice.
She nodded.
He held out a hand, and she placed her palm against his. A shock of electricity raced through him at that simple touch, and he curled his fingers possessively around hers, leading her to the open car door. He helped her into the backseat.
The driver sped away from the curb, and he studied this beautiful woman sitting next to him in charged silence. Her makeup was heavier than usual, thick lashes fluttering over big blue eyes, her soft, pillowy lips beckoning to him.
“How was your weekend?” he finally managed to ask.
She turned toward him and paused before answering. “Not so great, to be honest.”
“I’m a good listener.” He offered her an ear because he was truly interested in her life.
“It’s just… I went home last night to pick up my dress. And my mother was holed up in her room, unresponsive. Completely unaware that I was even in the room. I was shattered, but my sister didn’t seem to be affected at all.” She shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Forget it. I don’t want to ruin our night by starting it on a down note.” She turned her head, glancing out the window.
“Hey. Don’t apologize or turn away. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to hear.” He lifted her hand, placing it inside his, running his thumb over her soft skin.
“Thank you. For some reason, I thought you would understand.”
He hesitated before answering, then decided fuck it. He might as well offer her something in return for her honesty.
“I get it. I don’t have a relative who suffers from depression but I … I suffer from—” He stammered and wanted to take back the initial, tentative words that now stuck in his throat painfully. Though he’d thought he’d come to terms with this part of himself, embarrassment rushed through him now.
“I know.” She squeezed his hand in hers, the silence understanding, not judgmental. “I know.” She met his gaze, her expression warm and full of acceptance.
He didn’t need to elaborate or use the word anxiety, because after only a short time in his employ, she did understand. She’d seen things firsthand. Walked in on him pulling out an anxiety medication. Remade his coffee when he couldn’t drink it for reasons no one but him would understand. Put his clothes away in his closet exactly how he’d have done it himself.
Nothing he did or said had driven her away.
Before he could formulate a reply, the car came to a stop outside the venue in the financial district downtown. Formerly the headquarters of a major bank, the facility was now a landmark building in the National Historic Register, and a lineup of black Town Cars and drivers surrounded them.