Read That Girl is Mine - Part One for Free Online

weekend back, but you know how it is…”
    He tilts his head to the side as if he's pleading for understanding, and I wonder if he's being vague about what he was doing because I'm in the room, or if he's just one of those people who doesn't talk about what he does when he goes out all night.
    “Don't sweat it, it was good to relax and settle in. Maybe we can do something again on my next night off.”
    “Sounds perfect,” Dylan says, as he takes a bite of his toast and nods when I offer him coffee after I’ve poured mine.
    “Is this for me?” Josh asks, pointing to the toast in the napkin.
    “Sure is,” I smile, picking up his travel mug and handing it to him. “This is for you too.”
    He slides his arms around my waist and kisses me, murmuring, “How did I manage to land a girl like you?”
    “Just lucky I guess,” I tease, reaching up to straighten the navy tie he’s wearing with his white dress shirt. He looks so professional when he’s cleanly shaven with his brown hair styled neatly. “You'll do great today.” I glance at Dylan, half expecting him, as a friend of Josh's, to have something reassuring to say. But instead he has his eyes down, and he's more focused on eating and drinking coffee than he is on his friend. My toast pops out of the toaster.
    “I hope so. I'll call you when I can.”
    “Good luck.”
    “Thanks.” He presses another quick kiss to my lips then with his breakfast and coffee in hand, he leaves for his first day, saying goodbye to Dylan on his way.
    “Go save some kid’s life,” Dylan calls after him then the door closes, and I'm here alone with a man I barely know, naked expect for some smooth satin, tied by a flimsy sash. I glance at my cooked toast longingly, my stomach grumbling loudly.
    “I might go up and get ready too,” I mumble, suddenly feeling way under dressed.
    “Your toast will go cold,” he comments, getting up and grabbing a plate. He places the pieces of toast on the white surface and holds it out to me. “And I just heard your stomach growl. Come on, I won’t bite you.”
    Conceding, I tighten the sash on my robe again then walk toward him, adding butter and jelly to my toast before taking it to the dining table with my cup of coffee. I barely take a bite before Dylan pulls out the chair opposite to me and sits down with his breakfast as well.
    “Good weekend?” he asks.
    “It was. Your house is…nice.”
    “Nice?”
    “Interesting.”
    He laughs and sits back in his chair. “It was my grandmother’s. I just took down her personal stuff and kept the rest as it was. I’m not much of a decorator, and I’m really not here much so...” He shrugs.
    “Why aren’t you here much?” I ask, innocently at first, but then I realize what a stupid question that was and wince. “Don’t answer that,” I add, holding up my hand as he chuckles at my now red face.
    We sit in silence for a moment before a nagging question forces it’s way out of my mouth. “So, that girl who was all over you on Friday night, is that who you spent the weekend with – is she your girlfriend or current…whatever she is…or…or do you…” I pause, realizing how naïve I must sound.
    He folds his hands across his chest and eyes me curiously. “Spit it out.”
    I shake my head. “This is dumb. I shouldn’t even be asking…I just…”
    “You haven’t met anyone like me before, have you?”
    Looking down, I pull the crust off my quickly cooling toast. “I guess you could say I’ve lived a fairly sheltered life.”
    “You’re sheltered? Growing up in New York?”
    I shrug. “My mom wouldn’t let me out much.”
    He leans forward, peering into my face, his green eyes narrowing as they assess me. It causes me to fidget in my seat. It’s like he’s pulling information out of me without either of us speaking – as if he’s learning about me in the silence – it’s disconcerting.
    “He used to be just like me,” he states suddenly, his rich voice breaking