I had a routine. Exercise. Breakfast. Work. Banana. Lunch. Work. It had almost become a religion to me. I made life work around my routine, and not the other way around.

Natasha had been in my life for just over a week now, and she was already finding ways to change that. It was ten in the morning. In other words, it was banana time, and I wasn’t at work and there wasn’t a banana in my hand.

Instead, I was holding a dog’s leash in the middle of Central Park. Natasha’s dog, to be exact. I had recently learned the chubby little thing’s name was Charlie. For some reason, Charlie had decided he liked me. I grudgingly scratched his wrinkly head while he sat by my leg.

We were watching as Natasha knelt by a guy maybe in his late twenties or thirties who was sleeping on a bench. He looked pretty worse for wear with a few day’s stubble that didn’t look like a fashion statement and stained clothes. The guy sat up, said a few things, and then hugged Natasha tight.

Apparently, he was her brother. She'd gotten a call and suddenly asked me to leave for a few hours in the middle of my workday. I pressed her for details, but all she'd tell me was that her brother needed her.

Oddly enough, coming with her hadn’t felt like a choice. Natasha was accident prone and unlucky. She sometimes overlooked common sense in frightening ways, and the more I got to know her, the more I felt I needed to be by her side at all times just to keep her alive. But coming along didn’t feel like it was just about that. I wanted to be there for her when I saw how upset she was.

I scratched Charlie’s head while I worked through my thoughts. Somewhere along the way, I had stopped hating Natasha, I thought. I don’t know when it happened or how. The idea of us in some kind of relationship was obviously ridiculous, but I’d slowly come to want to tease her instead of punish her. I liked the way she fired back when I poked fun at her. I liked the way she managed to carry so much sexual energy in the smallest facial expressions, and I especially enjoyed the fact that she had no idea how transparent she was.

She was dying to give herself to me again, and frankly, I was dying to take her. The only thing holding me back now was the confusion about what I really wanted. But why should I let that stop me? We were both adults. I’d made myself perfectly clear the other night after we shared the banana split. I didn’t know where we were going and I wasn’t going to make promises. All I knew was that I craved another taste of her.

I was also still paranoid about the possibility that any woman who showed interest in me was just another Valerie. They would play nice and put on a brilliant acting job until I made a fool of myself and fell for them. They’d sink their claws into me and my accounts inch by inch, and then once they had enough leverage, they’d snatch their share and leave me.

I could survive the frustration and the betrayal. I really could. Had it not been for Caitlyn, I would’ve been over Valerie in weeks, if not less. I would’ve given a law firm unlimited funds and made her regret she ever thought she could get the better of me.

What I couldn’t stand was the idea that I was playing into someone’s game.

I was a winner. It wasn’t a point of pride or a source of cockiness. It was a business strategy, and it was one that bled over into my personal life.

Some people thought winning was about knowing a business or having talent. Others said it was hard work. I thought it was about self-discipline. Self-discipline had always been my talent. It was a weapon I spent time honing every day. Each time I worked out when I was tired or got out of bed before the sun rose. Every time I stayed late at work when I would rather be home. All the times I forced myself to stay focused and study instead of goofing off. Every single time made my self-discipline stronger, until it was a perfect tool I could use at will.

Except with Natasha.

She was an anomaly. It didn’t matter how strong my will was. Eventually, the desire to have her and joke with her and enjoy her won out. I could fight it, and I could delay it, but I couldn’t win.

“Here she comes,” I said to Charlie, who was grunting in a way that was mildly disturbing as I rubbed behind his ears.

Natasha was holding her brother’s shoulder like she was worried he might fall as she approached. “Braeden, this is Bruce. Bruce, this is Braeden.”

I looked at his dirt-stained hand and extended my own for him to shake.

He took mine tentatively with the kind of grip that always made me want to cringe away, like his hand was a loose sack of blood with no bones in it. His eyes didn’t leave the ground, and I read shame in his body language as clear as day.

“Do you need a place to stay?” I asked him.

“It’s okay,” said Natasha. “He’s going to stay with me. Right?” she said tightly, nudging him.

“Yeah. I’ll crash with you till mom and dad can come get me.”

“Is there room in your apartment?” I asked.

“We make it work. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “I have space at my place. It’s two floors. The two of you can take the bottom floor and I’ll take the top. At least until your parents are able to get you.”

“It’s really generous of you to offer, Bruce, but I don’t see why you’d need me there, too,” said Natasha.

I tried to quickly think up an answer other than the fact that I wanted her there and failed. "Well, my offer still stands. You want to stay at my place, Braeden? Free food and drinks. You'll enjoy yourself."

He looked up finally and gave me a reluctant smile. “Do you have wi-fi?”

I let Braeden borrow some of my clothes and use the guest bedroom as his own. Natasha and I stood in the living room of my apartment while the water ran in the background.

“This really was nice of you. Thank you,” she said.

“It’s nothing. I’m hardly ever here, anyway. He won’t be in my way.”

Her forehead wrinkled up and she looked down, tugging at her arm like she was on the verge of some kind of big decision.

“What is it?” I asked.

She hesitated. “It’s nothing. Hey,” she said quickly. “You haven’t had your banana yet. Do you want me to go get you one?”

“You think you can find one up to my standards?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not rocket science. Do you want one or not?”

“Yes,” I said. As if on cue, my stomach growled. The truth was that I already felt cranky without it.

Natasha left and I went behind where her brother had already moved things out of place. I nudged the ottoman back in line with the couch arm. I straightened the painting he moved when he bumped into the wall. I went in the fridge and made sure everything was where it was supposed to because I had offered him up whatever he wanted.

I didn’t mind the straightening. It had always brought me a kind of calm. It was my form of meditation. I wondered if that was part of what made me enjoy being around Natasha so much. She gave me the ability to constantly have something to fix. I wasn’t sure that was really it, though. It might have been simpler. Maybe I just enjoyed that she was genuine. She didn’t try to suck up to me or sugar coat things. She was real with me, and it made me want to believe she really didn’t have any ulterior motives.

She was a girl I could trust.