I bite my lip. “Seriously?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His hand cups my cheek. “Okay? I promise I’ll never lie to you, Leleila.”
“Okay.”
A car drives by us, breaking the moment. I pull back, and Brayden drops his hand and starts up the truck.
“You’ll be fine,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I promise you’ll be fine.”
Our drive to my house is quiet. The world around me is spinning, and I’m already getting the beginnings of a headache. Tomorrow morning should be fun.
When we reach my house, he pulls up just short of the driveway as usual.
“Phillip’s away.” I realize how the words sound coming out, and I fumble to right things. “I just meant—you won’t run into him and have to chat about how dance class is going. I know you two don’t have much in common.”
Brayden’s already pulling into the driveway. “If you’re alone, I’m going to make sure you get inside okay.”
We walk inside with me apologizing for the cold living room.
“Our house is drafty,” I say. “We try to keep our heat as low as possible and rely on solar. In winter, though, that’s more difficult.”
Brayden has me sit on the couch while he goes and gets me a glass of water and some crackers.
When he returns, he gestures to my painting on the easel. “Is that yours?”
I jump up and try to cover the painting with my arms. I don’t put them directly onto the canvas because the oils haven’t dried yet; I just hang my arms in the air and hope that will do the trick. But Brayden bends his head so he can see underneath.
He turns to face me. “That’s amazing, Leleila.”
“Thanks.” I give up fending him off and step back.
“You can really do this,” he says. By the tone of his voice, I can tell he means it. “You have something here.”
A weight drops off my shoulders, and I grab my portfolio as we walk over to the couch and sit down. “I appreciate that, Brayden. If you’re interested, here’s some of my other work. It was a long time ago, but…”
“I’d love to take a look,” he says.
As he flips through the pages, I stare at my old paintings. It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet I can still remember how much I loved it.
“I can see you doing this,” he says. “You know, professionally.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Not to put pressure on you or anything, I know these things take a lot of work.” He furrows his brow. “Maybe you need a job where you have time to paint.”
“That would be nice, but it seems unrealistic.”
“Flexibility,” he says. “That’s what you need.”
“I do want flexible hours. And I don’t want a long commute.”
I grab my laptop and open up to a saved tab. “I did find this one job the other day. It’s from home. From home could be really nice for me.”
Brayden glances at the screen.
“It sounds like it could work,” he says. “Why don’t you apply for it?”
“I think I will.” I lean back against the couch cushions. “When I’m sober. I’ve thought about painting so much over the years, but I’ve never done anything about it. Not until I failed my thesis.”
“You’ve probably got a lot of ideas stored up if you’ve been thinking about it that much.”
“I overthink everything.” I laugh. “I’ve thought way too much about learning to dance whereas you’re really good at dancing and you’ve probably never given it a second thought before.”
“I’ve thought a lot about finding the right partner,” he says, and I know as soon as the words leave his mouth he wishes he hadn’t said them.
I look at him sharply, and he closes his eyes for a second like maybe the moment won’t be here when he opens them. But when he opens his eyes, I’m still here, and so is that sentence he just strung together in his head and let out into the open.
I smile at him, his sapphire eyes the only thing I see.
“I remember your eyes the night we met,” I say in a soft voice. “They were the first thing I noticed about you.”
“You were so beautiful.” Brayden’s breath goes shallow. “You still are, of course, but I don’t usually tell you that.” He watches my face as my cheeks heat.
The chemistry is immediate and intense between us, and suddenly we’re leaning closer. I stare into Brayden’s incredible blue eyes, thinking crazy thoughts like how happy Elroy would be to see our heat. He leans in closer, and I feel enveloped by his masculine power.
He’s going to kiss me.
But at the last second, he abruptly shifts back. We stay silent for several more heartbeats, and I can’t take the physical closeness any longer. I’m too drunk for this.
I break the gaze and stare down at my water glass that Brayden has hurriedly shoved into my hands.
“I’m worried hanging out together isn’t healthy for either of us,” he says.
“How come?”
His tone is soft. “Because of the line.”
“The line?” I clutch the water glass like it’s a lifeline.
“It can get hard to draw the line, Lei,” Brayden says so softly I nearly cry. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“Harder and harder,” I murmur.
“I know you were told to find a dance partner for the month.” Brayden’s voice is so low I have to strain to hear him. “Yet despite your fiancé’s laissez-faire attitude, which I personally think is crap, I don’t want to complicate things for you so close to…you know, your big day.”
I close my eyes and try not to panic.
Brayden’s voice is rough and stripped of all pretenses when he speaks again. “Leleila, I think I should leave.”
I search his face. His expression is laced with an emotion I can’t read, and the pulse in his neck is throbbing. It’s like a switch went off inside of him, and he’s about to bolt.
He stands up. “If you and Sophia still want to come to the party after Friday’s game, you’re welcome to.”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t want us to come?”
“I do want you to. I just don’t think it’s going to be your thing is all. And I don’t want you doing anything that will make you uncomfortable.”
“I thought it was your thing.”
“It is. It’s…” He exhales. “It used to be my thing, and it still is a part of me. You know I don’t party like I used to.” He practically runs to the door. “Sleep well. I’ll see you.”
I bang my head against my hand. What a mess. I finish my glass of water, and then I get up and spend the next two hours with a paintbrush in my hand.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brayden
Shit. I can’t believe I almost fucking kissed her. That cannot happen again. I wanted a taste of Leleila’s lips again so badly I was shaking. It’s been twelve years since I’ve kissed her, and my need for her tonight was stronger than it’s ever been. I had to physically wrench myself away from her and drag my ass out the door.
I’ve just backed out of her driveway when my phone rings.
I pick up. “Hey, Cam.”
“Bray, we’re at your house.”
Great. I’m in a shitty mood, and I have unexpected company.
“You’re already in town for the wedding?” I ask.
“We came early so we could go to the Wilcox game on Friday. Jenson, Olivia, and his sons are here too. Jenson’s putting the boys to bed now.”
Jenson’s the only one of us who’s already a father. He and his ex-wife had an unplanned pregnancy when they were in college, and his sons are now six years old. Jenson and Olivia have known each other their whole lives, and they went through a lot of shit to get to where they are now—together and engaged to be married.
“Cool. I’ll be home in about ten.” I turn right onto Main Street and head for my house.
Cam goes silent, which is unusual for him. He still hasn’t told me what’s going on, but I know something’s
bothering him.
“Something’s up with you,” I say, unable to stay quiet any longer.
“What do you mean?” His tone is sharp.
“Is it Amy?”
He snorts. “Right.”
“Okay. So if not Amy, then what?”
Silence.
“Hockey? Your dad?”
“How did you know when was the right time?” he asks.
“The right time…”
“To quit playing football.”
I stop at the red light and tap the steering wheel lightly. So it is about hockey. And his dad. The two have always been inextricably linked in Cam’s life.
“I knew when I finally accepted that I didn’t love playing football the way I would need to if I wanted to make it big. I enjoyed playing, but I didn’t love it like I love Montana and the ranch life,” I say. “I love to coach and be around the sport as much as possible, but to try to pursue it professionally? That never would have made me happy.”
“Yeah.” The line goes quiet again.
“My dad says Uncle Tyler always was the most obstinate of all the brothers,” I say, referring to Cam’s father.
“Oh, yeah? Did he also say my dad was the biggest asshole of the bunch?”
“I don’t know. Dylan’s dad may have him beat there.” I’m not really joking, and Cam knows it. Dylan’s nothing like his father, and my dad always says, “Thank God for that.”
“I appreciate the input, Bray,” Cam says. “I’ll see you in a few.”
“See you. I’m nearly there.”
I park the truck in my driveway and head up the steps. Olivia opens the front door before I can and greets me with a hug. Her sleek black hair is up in a messy bun, and she apologizes immediately for, “…letting you into your own house.” Jenson and Cam are right behind her, and the four of us walk through the foyer and out to my porch.
We stand in a circle in front of my fireplace with no one speaking at first.
Jenson and Cam don’t ask me what I was doing out after midnight or why I look like hell. Like they always have, they accept me without question, without judgment. Besides my cousins and my immediate family, the only other person I’ve ever met who accepts me unconditionally is across town and days away from marrying somebody else. Someone who’s not me. And the more I get to know Leleila Wills, the more painful that truth has become.
I glance at the cup of tea in Cam’s hand. “That looks good.”
“You want a cup?” Olivia’s already heading for the kitchen. “J put the kettle on when we got in. Our flight was freezing cold; the air never warmed up.”
We all follow her out of the room and take seats on the kitchen bar stools.
I lean my elbows on the island counter. “Thanks, Olivia. I hope I didn’t wake up the kids just now.”
“Not a chance,” Jenson assures me, pushing an overgrown lock of blond hair out of his face. “Meghan sleeps like the dead, and the kids both take after her.” He gets up to take two cups of tea from Olivia, leaning in to kiss her as he does.
As they gaze at each other, my chest clenches with unexpected pain, pain that’s all about my own relationship issues. Olivia and Jenson are so in love and their connection so powerful that I can’t believe they were able to keep it private for as long as they did. I swallow down my own problems and focus on their long-deserved happiness.
“Congratulations on your engagement, you two.” I raise the cup of tea Olivia hands me. “When’s the wedding?”
Olivia smiles at Jenson. “We’re not sure. I don’t want a big formal thing, so we’re still trying to figure it all out.”
She takes a seat on a stool next to Jenson, and the two of them face Cam and me.
“The happy couple and the last two single Wilds.” Cam chuckles. “We make a good pair, Bray.”
When I don’t laugh with him, he shifts so he can face me head-on. “So, fucking tell us already,” he says to me, his mouth twisting in a frown. “What the hell’s going on?”
Not sure how much Jenson and Olivia know, I lay out my cards bluntly.
“Her name’s Leleila,” I say as I clench my hands around the hot cup of tea. “I met her twelve years ago at a party and haven’t seen her since. Not until she walked into her sister’s store. She’s engaged, and her wedding’s in less than two weeks.”
Jenson raises a blond eyebrow. “That’s not simple.”
“No. I don’t know him so I shouldn’t be making snap judgments, but I’m pretty sure her fiancé’s an asshole. Treats her like crap. And Leleila’s become my best friend.” I’m just getting started. “She’s free to pretty much do whatever she wants until the wedding. He’s not around, and he’s not planning to be, not until he’s put a ring on her finger and can control her life from there on out.”
“Wait a minute.” Cam raises a hand to stop me. “When you say she can do whatever she wants, you mean…”
“Not everything,” I clarify. “Not anything like you’re thinking, so you can pull your dirty mind out of the fucking gutter.”
Cam chuckles.
“But outside of that, everything’s on the table with this woman, meaning she’s free all the time to hang out.” I let out a frustrated groan. “Which is weird for me because what started out as friends has turned into me craving her. And she’s engaged. So that makes me an ass.”
“You’re so the opposite of an ass, Bray.” Cam’s tone leaves no room for argument.
“But wanting her is wrong. I wasn’t raised that way. Except I don’t fucking know how to stop things between us, other than to just walk away from her. And something tells me that would crush her. She’s lonely, and her relationship with her fiancé, from the little I’ve heard, sounds shitty. You guys are happily engaged; what do you think?” I run my hand down my face and turn to Jenson and Olivia.
Jenson and Olivia look at each other. “Obviously, we can relate,” Jenson says to me. “Feeling wrong for the way you feel; knowing you’ll never find someone who measures up but thinking she’s forbidden.”
“Ah, forbidden love.” Olivia’s tone holds a twinge of bitterness and a fair amount of regret. “I let the rules of others control me for far too long. My father being the mayor, the town’s judgment—it nearly undid me to be frank.”
“Your relationship didn’t have a third person involved, though,” Cam says. “How is Bray supposed to handle that?”
“Sounds like you’re conflicted about more than morals.” Jenson taps the counter, and I glance at him. “From the look in your eyes, I’d say you’re also flipping over what you know you’ll be losing in two weeks. So you’re holding back on telling this woman how you feel.”
“You’re saying you think I should bare my soul to a woman who’s engaged to another man.”
“I’m saying don’t let her go without a fucking fight, yes.” Jenson’s tone is certain. “If she’s spending this much time with you rather than him, there’s a problem in her relationship that she’s either not facing, afraid to acknowledge, or she’s just plain scared to cut bait. Sounds like her fiancé is fairly controlling.”
“She was young when she met him, only sixteen.” And it was after an event that terrorized her, so she was no doubt looking for a lifeline. Someone safe to hold onto.
But I can’t say any of that to them.
Cam exhales. “Getting out of a high school relationship can be tough, man.”
Cam’s teenage girlfriend wasn’t the one for him as an adult. Didn’t stop her from hanging on long after it should have ended. And their parents’ determination to keep them together made it harder.
“This isn’t the same,” I say. “This guy’s not chasing her around. He’s giving her all the space in the world.”
“Except maybe she doesn’t feel that way,” Olivia says. “She may feel like she has to keep doing what he says and playing by his rules.”
“That is how we got into this,” I say slowly. “He strongly suggested she ask me to be her dance partner becaus
e he was too busy to go to class with her.”
“Real attentive guy she’s got there,” Jenson says sarcastically. “Just take stock of all of it. Don’t miss something because you’re too busy overthinking what’s right or what’s wrong. She may need to figure this out on her own.”
“I get it. That’s why I keep backing up. I don’t ever want Leleila to feel pressured or pushed.”
And I don’t want to be hurt.
But I’m pretty sure my world will come crashing down to rubble the moment Leleila and I can’t be friends anymore.
“My advice?” Jenson says. “Even though you didn’t ask, I would keep fighting for her. You don’t want to wake up in two weeks and wish you’d done something more. Maybe she needs a reason to tell him goodbye.”
Olivia wraps her arm around Jenson’s waist and smiles at me fondly. “A handsome, muscular blond reason with bright blue eyes and a big heart.”
I take a sip of my tea. Maybe. Or maybe, I’ve gotten in way over my head and can’t figure out how to swim for safety.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Leleila
I spend thirty minutes in the shower the next morning, hoping to cleanse my hangover right out of me. I actually don’t feel too badly, probably because I made sure to drink plenty of water before I went to bed.
Once I’m dressed, I check my voicemail. Phillip called while I was in the shower. I call him back, but he tells me he’s in the middle of brunch with a colleague, and he asks if we can talk when he gets home tonight. I say that’s fine, but then I hear his colleague’s voice in the background. It’s female. Not only that, I’m surprised by how young her voice sounds. A lot of the professors Phillip rubs elbows with are older than him, but this woman sounds about our age or even younger. Actually, she sounds exactly like…Mindy Cox, the female professor he’s been attached at the hip to.
Does Mindy match the sexual fantasy Phillip’s always had? The certainty of it hits me like a knife to the heart, and chills race down my spine.
I try to ask him who he’s with, but he’s already said goodbye. My jaw clenches so tightly it hurts.
Brayden (Wild Men Book 6) Page 20
