Brad walks in, dressed in dark jeans and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He hasn't shaved for a few days so his face is covered in stubble, which I find extremely sexy.
It's starting again. The heat. The tingling. It started the moment I saw him. My body doesn't seem to understand he's off limits.
"Hey," he says, a serious look on his face. "I'm sorry about Nate."
I shrug. "Guess I'm not surprised. People always say a guy and girl can't be friends."
"That's not always true." He steps up to me and wraps me in his arms. "It'll get better."
"I don't think it will," I say, sniffling. "I think it's over."
"It's not over." He rubs my back as he holds me. "When he's had time to cool off, I'll talk to him and make him realize what a huge mistake it would be to give you up. You're amazing, Riley. He'd be a fool to let you go."
"I just don't see how we could make it work now."
Brad pulls away. "Let's go sit down."
We go to the couch, which is so small that we can't help but touch legs as we sit. Brad is a big guy, so he takes up most of the tiny couch, leaving me just enough space to squeeze in beside him. He puts his arm up behind me, giving me a little more room.
"Nate said he wouldn't be able to handle seeing me with someone else. So is he saying if I date someone, our friendship is over?"
"He's being unreasonable. He has to accept you're going to date other people. Threatening to end your friendship if you do is an asshole move. I'm hoping he only said that because he's pissed. That doesn't sound like something Nate would say."
"I didn't think so either, but I think he really meant it. I can't say I'd feel differently if it were me. If I loved Nate that way, it'd be hard to see him with someone else."
"If you loved him, you'd want him to be happy, even if it was with someone else."
"I'd like to think so, but I don't know. It's hard to say without going through it like Nate is right now."
"If it were you, you wouldn't be acting like Nate. You'd be sad and hurt, but you wouldn't be taking it out on him or punishing him for it. You'd want him to be happy, even if that happiness was with someone else."
"How do you know? You just met me."
"I haven't known you that long, but I know what type of person you are and I know you wouldn't want Nate to feel like you're feeling now if the tables were turned. You're a good person, Riley."
"I don't feel like I am." I rest my head on Brad's shoulder. "I just broke Nate's heart. He's hurting because of me."
"He's hurting because the dream he had in his head isn't going to come true. He imagined a future with you before he even talked to you about it. That's not your fault. You can't be blamed for ending a dream you didn't even know about until tonight. And you are a good person. And a good friend, better than any friend I've ever had, and I've had a lot. Nate has no idea what you do for him."
I lift my head to look at Brad. "What do you mean?"
"You give up what you want to protect him and keep him from getting hurt. It's not your job to do that, but you still do. Because you care so much about him."
"What are you talking about? I don't give up what I want."
"What about you and me?"
I sit back, still facing him. "What about us?"
"You ended it before it could start."
"Ended what?"
"Riley, you know what I'm talking about. I wasn't the only one feeling something between us."
I look down at my hands resting in my lap. "I admit there's an attraction there, but to be fair, all girls are attracted to you. You're um...you have good genes."
"You're attracted to my jeans?" he asks in a kidding tone. "You mean the ones I'm wearing now or the ones I wore the night of our date?"
I roll my eyes. "Genes as in genetics. You're hot, okay? As if you don't already know this? And the night at the brewery was not a date."
"Seemed like a date to me."
"We didn't even kiss."
"I didn't think you'd let me." He lifts my chin up and our eyes meet. "Was I wrong?"
"I might've let you," I say, glancing away. "I would've rather had you kiss me that night instead of at the pool during CPR training."
"That wasn't a kiss."
"It wasn't?" I ask, my eyes returning to his.
"No, it was a new technique used to save someone."
"Really? I've never heard of that."
He laughs. "Riley, I'm joking. And I shouldn't have done that. That was a horrible first kiss."
"So why'd you do it?"
"I wasn't thinking. It just happened. That night at the brewery, I kept thinking about kissing you. I wanted to, but then I didn't, but I wish I had. The next day when you were lying there during the training and I was touching you, looking at your beautiful face, my mind went right back to the night before and how much I wanted to kiss you. When I went to give you breaths after the compressions, all I could think about was kissing you. I did everything possible to put it out of my head as I lowered my mouth to yours. I pretended I was saving you, which worked for the first breath, but not the second. I just wish it'd been a real kiss so I knew what it really felt like to kiss you."
I swallow. "Then do it."
"Do what?"
"Kiss me." I sit up straighter. "That way you'll know and can stop wondering."
He smiles. "You want me to kiss you? And this is simply to satisfy my curiosity?"
"Yes, unless you're no longer wondering what it'd be like, in which case we could skip it."
"Oh, I'm definitely still wondering."
"Then go ahead." I stick my head out and close my eyes.
He laughs. "I can't kiss you like that."
I open my eyes. "Why not?"
"Because it's not natural. It's too forced, like we're doing an experiment."
"Isn't that what this is? We wondered what it'd be like if we really kissed, right?"
He cocks his head. "You wondered about it too?"
"Oh, um, well...maybe a little."
"Huh." His sexy smile remains as his hand cups my face and he leans me back on the couch.
My chest is rising up and down as my heart tries to keep up with its ever-increasing pace. I close my eyes and feel his warm breath, then his lips. Oh, God, his lips. So soft, and they know just what to do to fill my body with those glorious tingles. His tongue swipes over mine like it did that day at the pool, like he's reminding me of it. His kiss deepens, his tongue moving in a slow seductive way. I wrap my hand behind his neck, wanting more, wanting him closer. I feel the weight of his body lowering over mine. My hips automatically arch into him and I hear him groan. Sinking farther down on the couch, I rake my fingers down his back as he trails kisses along my neck.
"God, Riley," he groans.
"I know," I whisper.
One kiss. That's all it took to confirm these feelings we have for each other aren't just in our heads. They're real. And it's not just attraction. There's something else. The something else I wish I felt for Nate but never have. It's that spark. A connection I can't yet explain. The feeling there could actually be something between us. Something more than a night or a few casual dates.
I bring his face back to mine and kiss him as his hand slides down my side, then up to my breast.
"Brad," I moan, as he continues to touch me with his strong, skillful hands.
My hips grind into him, rubbing against the part of him I want more than anything right now. My head says it's too soon for that, but my body disagrees, becoming even more aroused as Brad slips his hand under my shirt, moving it along my waist then up my back to my bra.
My phone rings, startling me and taking me out of this blissful moment.
I push Brad off me and search for my phone.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"My phone." I get up and find it on the floor by the couch. I pick it up and see it's my mom calling. "I have to get this," I say, glancing back at Brad who's looking at me like I'm craz
y for stopping what we were doing to answer the phone. But my mom never calls when she's on a date, so it could be an emergency.
"Mom, is something wrong?" I answer.
"No, I just wanted to tell you I'm staying at Dave's tonight."
"What about his dog?"
"He's staying with Dave's sister."
"Okay. Well, goodnight." I end the call and sit back on the couch next to Brad.
"Everything, alright?" he asks.
"Yeah, she was just telling me she's staying at Dave's." I set my phone on the coffee table. "She usually doesn't call, so I had to make sure it wasn't an emergency."
He turns to me. "What kind of emergency?"
I shrug. "In jail. The hospital. Passed out on the side of the road. Anything's possible. Depends on how much she's been drinking." I look down. "I'm sure Nate's told you about her."
"Not much. Is she an alcoholic?"
"For as long as I can remember," I say, picking at the lint balls on the couch. I wish we could get a new one. This one came from the dumpster and smells like cigarettes and mold.
"Has she ever gone for treatment?" Brad asks.
I shake my head. "We can't afford treatment. Even if we could, she wouldn't go. She doesn't think she has a problem. She says if she was a drunk, she wouldn't have kept her job this long."
"Has she shown up to work drunk?"
"At least once a month, sometimes more. But she doesn't get in trouble for it. Renee, our boss, just sends her home."
"How could she not get fired for that?"
I sigh. "Long story."
"One you don't want to talk about?"
My eyes lift to his and I see his concern. Genuine concern, like he really does care and isn't just asking because he feels like he has to.
"It's not that. It's just—" I pause, turning to him. "My mom had me at 15. She got pregnant at fourteen. The guy, my dad, told her he loved her, but he only said it so she'd have sex with him. She never saw him again after that night. When her dad found out she was pregnant, he beat my mom so badly she passed out. When she woke up, he was gone."
"Where'd he go?"
"He drove out to the woods." I pause. "And shot himself."
"Holy shit," Brad mutters. He reaches over and takes my hand. "Riley, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I never knew him. Actually, I'm happy I never did. He was an abusive bastard. And it sounds like my grandma wasn't much better. She took off when my mom was three. Never came back."
"So your grandfather..." Brad waits for me to confirm it.
"Killed himself. The bullet went through his brain. He was dead when they found him. He left a note in his truck telling my mom it was her fault. That she's the reason he killed himself."
"Fuck," Brad says, shaking his head. "No wonder your mom's so messed up."
"Nate says that's just an excuse and she needs to get over it, but it's not that easy."
"So what happened to her? After her dad died?"
"She went into foster care. She didn't get along with her foster parents so she took off when she turned 18. I was almost three at the time. We would've been living on the streets, but then Renee, the lady who owns the salon, told her aunt about us. Her aunt's a social worker. She took us in. She paid for my mom to go to beauty school, then got her the job at the salon. She made my mom start paying her rent, but she was actually saving the money so my mom wouldn't spend it. She used the money to get us the trailer. We moved in when I was six and have been here ever since."
"When did your mom start drinking?"
"Right after she had me. She gets worse after a breakup, I think because it reminds her of her dad leaving her. Even if she's the one breaking it off, she still loses it. She can't handle people leaving her. That's why I haven't moved out. Well, that and because I don't have the money."
"You can't stay with her forever," Brad says. "I understand where you're coming from, but—"
"I know. Nate says the same thing. I'm just worried what will happen to her if I leave. And I feel like..." I stop, not wanting to say it because part of me knows it's not true and yet the guilt still eats away at me.
"Feel like what?" Brad asks. He's still holding my hand, softly rubbing his thumb over it, calming me and making me want to tell him more.
"I um...I kind of feel responsible sometimes."
"For what?"
"For the way she is. If she never got pregnant with me, her life would've been totally different. Her dad wouldn't have killed himself and—"
"Okay, stop." Brad sits up straighter and looks in my eyes. "What happened to your mom isn't your fault. Your mom's the one who got pregnant. And everything that happened after that had nothing to do with you. You know that, right?"
"For the most part, yeah, but sometimes I can't help but think I'm the reason my mom's so messed up."
"You need to stop thinking that way. You're not the reason your mom's an alcoholic. There are lots of reasons people drink. From what Nate's told me, it sounds like she'd be a lot worse if it weren't for you."
"Which is why I feel like I can't leave her." I take my hand from Brad's and hug my knees to my chest. "I wish I could make her stop drinking. Then maybe she'd be okay on her own." I look at Brad, a smile forming. "Sorry."
"About what?"
"Talking about this. I totally brought the mood down."
"I'm the one who asked about it. I wanted to know."
"Why?"
"Because I like you. I want to know more about you."
My smile widens. "You like me?"
He smiles back. "I think I made that clear before the phone rang."
"Yeah." I keep smiling as I lower my feet back to the floor. "I guess you did."
He moves closer and cups my face. "I get the feeling you like me too."
"Maybe a little."
He leans in to kiss me, but I back away.
"Wait." I scoot back. "Don't kiss me."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"We can't do this." I get up and walk to the other side of the room.
"Why?" He stands up.
Damn, he's tall. And those broad shoulders? I love that on a guy. Dark intense eyes that feel like they could look right through you are on my checklist too, along with a strong jawline, perfect teeth, that sexy scruff covering his face. Brad has all of that and more. I look away before I run up to him and drag him to my bedroom.
"Riley, what's going on?" he asks, walking toward me.
I put my hand out in front of me. "Don't get any closer."
"Why not?"
"Because if you get any closer I'll..."
"You'll what?"
"I'll want to kiss you again. And that will lead to our hands going places they shouldn't go, and then clothes coming off and then doing something we'll both regret."
"Riley, that's not why I'm here. I didn't come over here thinking we'd end up in your bed, or even kissing." He turns around, running his hand through his hair, and sighs. "Shit. I really fucked this up."
"What are you talking about?"
"I came here to try to make you feel better. I didn't want you to be alone after what happened. I wanted you to have someone to talk to. But now, because we kissed, you're thinking that's why I came here." He turns back to me, shaking his head. "God, this looks bad. You're sad. Vulnerable. And here I am, inviting myself over." He goes to step closer but then stops. "Riley, that's not what I was doing. I swear. I didn't plan to kiss you. It's just that we were talking about Nate and then—"
"Wait. You never finished what you were saying."
"About what?"
"You were saying all that stuff about how I'm such a good friend to Nate. How I protect him. Care about him. You said all that and then said something about us."
He hesitates, then says, "You won't let us date because you think it would hurt Nate."
"I know it would. He just told me it would."
"But what about you, and what you want?" He walks up to me. "We both know there's something between
us. A pull. An attraction. Something that makes us want to be together. I've been feeling it since I met you and I know you felt the same. I didn't say anything because I knew you felt this loyalty to Nate. Like it'd be wrong for you and me to even try to have any kind of relationship, even if that's what you really want. That's what I meant when I said you're giving up what you want for Nate. But it's not fair to you, Riley. Why does he get to be happy and you don't?"
"It's not about making him happy. It's about not hurting him."
"So you're giving up what could turn into something great just to spare Nate from having to deal with feelings you have no control over?"
"I don't have control over them, but I can at least save Nate from some of the hurt I'm causing him."
"At your own expense. It's like what you do with your mom."
"My mom?"
"You just said you want to move out but can't because of your mom. But when does it end? When do you get to do what you want?"
"How can you even ask that after what I just told you?" I say, getting angry. "I can't trust that my mom will be okay if I leave."
"And I get that. All I'm saying is that you put others first, which is great, but at some point you have to put yourself first. If you don't, you'll never get out of here."
"I will. Just not yet. You don't know my mom like I do. She doesn't pay her bills on time. She forgets to buy food. And when she's really upset, she takes pills. One time she took so many pills she ended up in the hospital."
"None of that is your responsibility. You're her daughter, not her mom. She's supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around."
I storm to the door and swing it open. "I think you should leave."
"Why? Because I'm telling you stuff you don't want to hear?" He meets me at the door. "Maybe I'm wrong about you and your mom, but I'm not wrong about you and Nate. That relationship is too one-sided and probably always has been. He gets to be happy and you don't."
"That's not his fault," I say.
"I didn't say it was. You want to keep doing this? Great, but you'll never be happy." He walks off.
"I AM happy!" I yell after him.
I slam the door as he drives off. Who the hell does he think he is talking to me that way? He doesn't know anything about me. Even though I spent all last week with him, that's not enough time for him to make judgments about me or know who I am.
Better If He Goes (Always You Book 1) Page 10
