There wasn’t just one obstacle standing in his way with Dakota. There were layers of them, complete with pitfalls and false trails. And he was making himself mental going over every possibility again and again. Brenden savored another brownie as his thoughts continued to poke at the problem.
Even if Dakota were to fall in love with him in return—and let’s face it, there was nothing all that lovable about Brenden—Dakota wasn’t the kind of guy to declare his undying love to one person for a lifelong commitment. His momma had given Dakota a sour view on relationships. So there was one layer to this impossible situation. Then there was their family.
Brenden buried his face in his hands. How was he going to face Evelyn and Trev?
No. He could not think about that. He searched for the remote, his head spinning. Good thing he’d decided to go for the hot tea instead of the wine. In his sickly state, he’d pass out and miss the entire movie. Just as he hit start on the DVD, the front door opened.
His heart twisted with a renewed ache. Fuck, Dakota was home early. Brenden gave a moment’s serious consideration to pulling the blanket over his head and burying himself in his couch. “Go away!” he snapped. He was too miserable to deal with anyone.
“Brenden?”
Brenden blinked fuzzily as Aden came into view with a worried expression on his face. Great. Another Nye brother. He had a plague of Nyes in his life. But this was Aden. He couldn’t be grouchy with him. “Hey, Aden. I’m sick. You might want to stay away.” He crossed his fingers in the hope he’d be left in peace.
Instead, Aden came closer and laid his hand against Brenden’s forehead. His hand felt so cool and nice that Brenden leaned over with a sigh. “Brenden, look at me.”
Brenden tried to turn his face away. Aden would know something was wrong. He was almost as bad as Dakota when it came to reading him. Brenden could fool most of the rest of the world, but had a harder time with those two. Aden caught his chin and forced his head up. “You are high,” Aden said in a shocked whisper.
“I am not!” Brenden gave Aden an indignant glare before the ludicrous accusation made a giggle escape, which turned into a sneeze. He fumbled for the box of tissues. “That’s Dakota’s shtick, not mine. It’s cold medicine. I have a cold. And I have jerkitis. It’s all your cousin’s fault.”
“If your eyes got any more dilated, you’d start hallucinating unicorns farting rainbows.” Aden sat down next to him and handed him his bottle of water. “Drink some of that and tell me what you took. Then tell me why Dakota’s a jerk. For some reason, you love him when he’s a jerk and the rest of us want to brain him.”
“I don’t love him!” Brenden crossed his arms. In the back of his fuzzy head, an annoying C3PO voice reminded him he needed to keep his mouth shut. God, Dakota was right. C3PO was annoying, and Dakota was the lovable one. Brenden caught his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes stung. No. He was not going to cry. He was not going to sulk. He was going to eat soup and brownies until his ass got as wide as the couch and watch his damn movies. “I don’t love anybody.”
Aden cocked his head and gave Brenden another long look. “Bad breakup?”
“No,” Brenden huffed, glancing away. “I’m fine. It’s the cold meds and the stuffy head that’s got my eyes and nose all red.” He waved a hand toward the bag of over-the-counter medicines on the coffee table beside another brownie that called his name with seductive indulgence.
“Uh-huh.” Aden leaned over and studied the boxes, humming under his breath. Brenden eyeballed him. His little brother was going to be a doctor. He certainly had a nicer bedside manner than Brenden’s general physician. Aden waved the plate with the brownie under Brenden’s nose and pulled it away when he reached for it. “Where did you get these? Did you make them?”
“No. I stole them from Dakota. I hope he comes home with the munchies.” It was a petty reaction, one Brenden was a smidgeon ashamed of, but whatever. He’d apologize for stealing his stash when he was talking to Dakota again. And he had to get his pity party out of the way before Dakota came home because they were recording episodes of Geek Wars next week. So Aden had to leave. Otherwise, Brenden wouldn’t be able to have his breakdown and put himself back together again. Fuck, he was pitiful. A sad, pitiful moron.
Aden laid his hand over his face with a groan of exasperation. “Brenden, you do know what Dakota puts in his hidden brownies, don’t you?”
“Love?” Brenden snickered and rested his spinning head down on his arms. “Seriously, he bought those. The only thing Dakota knows how to make is tacos.”
“And brownies laced with enough marijuana to half knock you out for the count.” Aden peered into his eyes again. “How many have you had?”
Brenden did not want to admit the extent of his comfort food binge. “Two.” He squirmed as Aden continued to stare at him. “Okay fine, maybe three or four.”
“Between the brownies, medicine, and fever, you are fucked-up.” Aden straightened and scooped up the plate.
“I am not high. I’ve never been high in my life.” Brenden frowned as he considered that statement for truthfulness. Tipsy many times. Dead drunk, okay, a few, but yep, never high. He eyeballed the brownie Aden carried away. He couldn’t take the snacks away. Brenden craved all the food. Weren’t you supposed to feed a cold or something like that?
“Well, big brother, you won’t be able to say that again,” Aden said as he returned with a bowl of popcorn and some more bottles of water. “So do you want to watch the movie now, then cry on my shoulder, or do you want to cry on my shoulder first?”
That was a question that required serious consideration. If Brenden got it all out now, he could enjoy the movies, then crash. But he couldn’t get it all out now. He might reveal too much, so he’d have to wait until Aden decided to take himself off again. “Movie first. Wait. Why’d you come over? Everything okay?”
Aden was in and out of this house when he had free time. Though the walk-ins had decreased dramatically once he and Julie had hooked up again. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I had a favor to ask you. But I’m not leaving until you’ve started coming down. You need a little babying. You’ve taken care of me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you. You kept me together after my breakup, remember?”
Brenden dug into the popcorn. Aden had laced it with plenty of butter. It was perfect for a day of shameless excess. “I didn’t do anything. Just gave you an ear.” He’d wanted to call Julie out for being a heartless bitch. Nobody made Aden cry. It wasn’t allowed. And if Julie thought he was going to forget that anytime soon, she was crazy.
“I can listen too.” Aden nudged Brenden. “Tell me who it is so I can hate them.”
It felt as if Brenden’s insides were crumbling. He had built his adult life around certain rules, and the cornerstone had been yanked away. He’d be okay. Once he got over this stupid cold and the shit that made his head spin and some time and distance from Dakota. He was an emotional seesaw. The situation with Dakota made him want to curl up, and whatever the fuck he was on made him want to laugh. He was so tired. He hadn’t slept well in days, and his idiotic mental commentary would not cease so he could rest.
“It’s my own fault. I knew it wasn’t a relationship that could ever go anywhere and I let it happen anyway. You can’t help who you love.” Brenden paused and gazed sadly at his hands. He could hear this strange mewling, like all the morose thoughts in his head were vocalizing themselves in the room. “I love you, Aden.”
Aden smiled and half hugged Brenden. He really did look like an angel. One day his patients were going to adore him. “I love you too. You know what you need?” Brenden shook his head. “Kitten therapy.”
Brenden eyed Aden with bleary suspicion. “What are you talking about?”
Aden set the popcorn down on the table and retrieved a cage sitting by the door that Brenden hadn’t noticed. Brenden looked inside at the lump of black fur in the corner that yawned with multiple mouths. Oh man, he was fucked-up. Then the inkblot s
hifted and squirmed into four separate kittens, most of them black from head to toe.
“Oh.” Brenden lifted his fingers to the cage, his heart catching as one sniffed at him through the bars. “You brought me kittens to cuddle? How’d you know I needed kittens?”
“I didn’t. I wish I had, though.” Aden opened the door and scooped out the first one.
Brenden held it in careful hands, his eyes filling with tears as its little tongue rasped at his hand and it purred with an off-key rumble. The second kitten clambered over his lap, tiny claws digging into his pajamas. The third tried to climb its way up his chest, as the fourth chased it. Brenden giggled and cried and laughed some more. Once he got started, he didn’t stop until all that emotion he’d been holding back had drained out of him and his nose stuffed up so bad he couldn’t breathe.
Aden let him get it all out, remaining beside him as a comforting presence and kitten wrangler when one threatened to make a run for it. They were so damned cute. Brenden loved all four of the fluffy escape artists.
Aden handed him a cold, damp washcloth. “You shouldn’t hold so much in, Bren. It’s not good for you. No wonder you’re sick.”
Some of the fuzziness had left Brenden’s brain, but he was more stopped up than ever. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen apart like that. He pressed the washcloth against his eyes and then laid it on his head. It soothed, despite him acting like an imbecile. “Why’d you bring me kittens?”
One of them curled around his finger, gnawing playfully on it. Aden had fitted them with collars, a different color for each. “I need someone to foster them for a few days while I find them a home. I can’t take them to the pound. Superstitious idiots ignore the black kittens and leave them in there unloved, which is how I wound up with these. A friend rescued them and didn’t have the means to take care of them, so she brought them to me. But if my landlord catches me with pets again, he’s kicking me out.”
Brenden looked down at the lapful of tumbling kittens with a longing heart. “But I can’t. Dakota’s allergic.”
Aden made a disparaging sound. “Dakota isn’t allergic to animals. He’s allergic to taking care of anything. But he’s going to have to suck it up and take care of you because it’s half his fault you’re in this mess. Feeling better? You seem to be coming off it some.”
Aden understood. It was half Dakota’s fault.
If he’d listened and not kissed Brenden as he had…. Okay fine, he’d kissed Dakota first, but dammit, Dakota had been in his face and he wouldn’t have backed down, not this time. It didn’t matter who kissed who because, fuck, he’d still be sick in love with him. Who was he kidding? This was all Brenden’s mess. Except the brownies. He was going to have words with Dakota over that. “Yeah, I think so. My head is pounding, though.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re going through a physical and emotional wringer.” Aden flipped on the movie and urged Brenden to lie down on the couch. “Why don’t you watch your Tron? I’ll check on the soup and ditch the brownies.”
He was too miserable all over for his pride to be bruised because Aden had seen him fall apart. Lying over that misery like a soft fluffy blanket was the brownie haze. He understood why Dakota ate the damned things. Brenden curled up on the couch, petting the kittens as they investigated him, then wandered off, only to return to nestle against him.
They couldn’t have kittens. He’d have to tell Aden that. Brenden traveled too much. And they didn’t have anything a kitten needed. He didn’t know where to start. He’d always wanted a pet, though. Maybe it would be okay for a bit until Aden found homes for them. One of them curled up in a little ball, in the crook of Brenden’s arm, his tail tucked under his nose. He was the tiniest of the bunch and the most curious. “And I shall call you, Minime,” Brenden said in a soft voice.
The one chasing after Brenden’s toes had the hint of an underbite, and Brenden dubbed him Toothless, which left the other two. One was pure black from head to paws but had the most brilliant blue eyes. The final one had splotches of white that peeked through her fur. Brenden named them Inkheart and Rorschach.
He couldn’t keep them, but they ought to have names.
Aden’s voice buzzed from the kitchen. Deep down in the nether regions of his brain, he was sure Aden was talking to Dakota. Probably telling him all about Brenden’s breakdown. Dakota would know it was about him. Now that hurt his pride, but he couldn’t find the motivation to move and shut Aden up.
Dakota better not come charging back home out of some mistaken idea he needed to take care of Brenden. He could take care of his own damn self. He didn’t need Dakota. A tear snaked down his cheek. Dammit. No more. He’d had his cry. He was done with this whole mess. Even if he did want Dakota to come home so he’d be nearby. That was the whiny cold talking.
A kitten nuzzled at his hand, and Brenden curled his fingers over the tiny back in a caress that soothed them both. And to the sound of the rumbling purr and his favorite movie, he drifted off.
Chapter Twelve
THIS ENTIRE weekend had been a fail from the start. Dakota stared at Trask with moody resentment as he went back and forth with the other players over some minor detail in the game, and he didn’t give a fuck about the outcome. He should’ve stayed home yesterday and helped Brenden with the cleaning. But if they snarked at each other, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve had the willpower to not kiss him. He couldn’t kiss Brenden again until he figured out what to do. Escape seemed like the best option for both of them.
And a day helping out Felipe and Trask with renovations cleared his mind some. Even if he’d missed Brenden like crazy.
“What do you think?” Felipe asked, rounding on him, and Dakota’s thoughts scrambled as he tried to remember what the discussion was about.
Dakota scowled at him. “That this is a stupid argument. We’re wasting our time, and I’m not getting paid. We’ve been bouncing from one crisis to another, barely staying one step ahead of the Empire, and if we don’t get our shit together, we’re going to end up in prison or worse.”
A hush fell over the table as the other players exchanged startled looks. “I hate to admit it,” Jackie replied. “But he’s got a point. We have to figure out a plan fast.”
Dakota couldn’t wait for the game to be over, which sucked because he’d anticipated it for a couple of weeks. Now he just wanted it to end so he could kidnap Morris for a long talk. If he could get him away from Lincoln for a car ride. Hell, he’d even shown up at the Den early in the hopes of pulling Morris aside beforehand, but the man had overslept and showed up thirty minutes late.
This was killing him. He needed to talk to someone. Brenden had holed himself up in his office all week, and Dakota hadn’t been sure how to approach him or even what to say that wouldn’t mess things up more.
If only he hadn’t panicked when he realized Brenden loved him. That exacerbated the situation. And he should’ve let him talk in the first place. Brenden had tried to discuss something when they were naked in bed together, and he’d tried the following morning. Dakota had shut that shit down both times. Now he bitched because Brenden wasn’t talking. He was warped. He didn’t understand how Brenden was so patient with him. He might get irritable, but not as much as Dakota deserved.
There hadn’t been one text or call from Brenden since he left, though Aden had been burning up his phone today. Dakota tried telling himself Brenden’s silence was okay. They should stay in their own corners until he figured out what to do. He had no damned clue, and he was terrified that by the time he did figure it out, it would be too late and his friendship with Brenden would be irreparably damaged. He could not let that happen.
“And that is where I’m going to end it tonight,” Trask said, folding his game screen down in his traditional gesture. Dakota breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the table groaned. Now he had to yank Morris aside.
“Everybody’s free three weeks from now, right?” Felipe asked with a searching glance around t
he table.
“No, we’re not,” Morris cut in with an odd look at Felipe. “We—” He emphasized the word, pointing at Felipe, then Lincoln. “—are doing something.” Lincoln’s face screwed up in confusion for a moment, and then he grinned.
“Bullshit. We always play every—” Felipe broke off with a scowl. “Hey! Why’d you kick me? Oh….” He turned to the rest. “How about in four weeks?”
Daphne leaned back, crossing her arms. “What’s going on in three weeks?”
“Wedding stuff.” Felipe flapped his hand at Daphne as Morris shot him an agonized look. “Tux fittings and all that.”
There was something else going on. Dakota knew when Felipe lied out his ass, but Daphne bought it. He’d get to the bottom of the mystery later. Dakota scooped up his dice and nudged Morris in the side. “You hungry?”
“I can always eat.” Morris glanced at Lincoln. “You okay with that? A little something before the drive back to Solomon’s Island?”
“I’m definitely hungry. Can we go to the diner?” Lincoln asked as he gathered his belongings.
“I don’t get it,” Jackie said. “I mean, the teenager I get, they’re bottomless, but you, Morris and Dakota?” She waved her hand at the sideboard, loaded down with food at the start of the game, then demolished.
“Saving the galaxy is hard work,” Morris said loftily. “And it’s a long drive back home.”
Dakota stayed silent, praying to whatever god or goddess listening that Felipe wouldn’t decide to join them. They did just see each other at the con and Dakota had crashed on their couch last night, so there was a chance he’d go home and jump Trask instead. Please, because Felipe was too curious for Dakota’s current mental state.
A Beautiful Disaster Page 10
