Forever Together (Forever Love #2)

by Jade Whitfield

  Ok, change of thoughts, change of thoughts! I keep my eyes closed and from the absence of the jolting that’s been happening, I’m guessing we've finally reached the top. I hear a door open and blink my eyes open to find us in Avery's room.

  This room was previously my own back before I went to college. The black and white striped wallpaper that covered the main wall in those days has been replaced by a vibrant peony - patterned paper. The bright blue of the background and pale pinks of the flowers make it pop out and it’s the first thing you see on entering the room. Even in my drunken state, I gotta give my Mom props, she’s made it look good. The black glossy furniture is long gone and is now a white shabby chic style with fancy knobs and handles.

  Brady lays me on my sister’s queen size iron-framed bed. The comforter underneath me is like one giant pillow that I just sink into. I sigh at the lusciousness of it all. Before I can thank him for all his help and bid him goodnight, Brady’s pulling off my heels bringing relief to my sore feet. I notice that one of my heels is snapped and whimper at the loss. I loved those shoes, they made my calves look really good and they went with so many outfits.

  "Thank you." My voice is scratchy from the assault my throat took. My eyes are heavy and I’m blinking extra trying to keep them open.

  "No problem. It’s been... eventful." A smile lifts his mouth up, a mouth so beautiful. Can mouths be beautiful? His certainly is.

  "I’m sorry."

  "Are you kidding? Best fucking thing to happen in a long time."

  "Me throwing up?" I frown

  "Nah. Getting to spend more than five minutes with you without having to chase you down in the street for it."

  My cheeks heat with a blush and I bring my chin to my chest as if it'll hide me. Since nobody’s mentioned it since, I was hoping everyone had forgot ten about me running through Main street before my trip to the ground. Seems I’m not that lucky.

  "Hey," A single finger tips my chin up so I’m looking into two dark eyes filled with humor. "It’s ok. People run from me all the time because of how good looking I am. It’s like looking at the sun."

  "Still arrogant I see." I smile and raise my eyebrows.

  "Can’t be arrogant if it’s the truth now can it?" He winks and my stomach takes a free fall. "Anyway, never mind my dashing good looks. Do you need anything? Water? To puke?" I shake my head, too busy staring to give a verbal answer. "Ok, well, I’m gonna pop in to check on you tomorrow."

  "You don’t have to do-" My words are halted when he places a thick finger against my lips to shut me up, which I do willingly.

  "Shh. I’m gonna come check on you tomorrow, Cinders. I’m not gonna lie to you. I've missed you like fuck. Not seeing you or being with you has been... shit!" He throws his hands up in the air and runs them through his dark blond hair which is already ruffled. He takes a deep breath. "I'll see you tomorrow, we'll talk then ok." I nod my head, figuring there’s no point arguing. "Goodnight Cindy. The buckets down here next to the bed so if you feel sick make sure you use it." He stands up and heads for the door.

  When he’s like this I feel like saying screw it and begging for another chance. This is the caring, sweet side of him. Everybody else sees a joker, a guy that never takes anything seriously, that’s always ready for a laugh. I see the real Brady though, the kind Brady who holds my hair back when I puke and carries me to bed, who catches me every single time I fall.

  "Brady." I call out, my voice breaking. He turns around to face me. I have no idea what to say or why I even called out to for him. I take a few moments to take in the hard edges of his features, the darkness of his eyes and the messiness of his hair. He’s the same. He’s still my Brady. "Goodnight." I give him a small smile and get a blinding one in return.

  "Night Cinders." He winks before slipping out the door, leaving it open a fraction.

  I lie there staring at the partially open door that he just left through. My heart's still racing and I can practically hear it in my own ears. I feel like I've been run over by a train, the train that is my ex-boyfriend Brady Cooper. What happened to avoiding him? Granted that’s a bit hard when you're drunk as hell and fall ing off a table into his arms.

  I can’t deny the way I feel though. The way my stomach feels as if it's spinning, my heart pounding and my mind in some far off place where everything was perfect. I feel as though something’s slipped back into place, something I didn’t even know was missing, a piece of me that disappeared six months ago and that will probably disappear again in the morning when I realize that none of this is real, that it’s all down to my drunkenness. I can’t trust this feeling, or those words, not in this state.

  I roll over to face the white framed window that faces onto the front yard. It was that very window I was hanging out of when Brady gave his stupid speech. The amount of girls that came up to me blabbering about how I should've been embarrassed. I wasn’t though. Brady isn’t one for flowers and sweet words, especially not back then. Hell, our third date was riding mattresses down the stairs.

  I can see the branch of the thick Live Oak tree just outside the window, hanging over from the neighbor’s yard. It’s close enough that you can reach it. It was my main escape route in my teenage years with Brady waiting at the bottom with arms outstretched as if to catch me if I fall.

  I don’t want to feel like this. My heart and soul feels better but my mind is in turmoil at the range of emotions going through me. I can't ignore that with Brady's touch, with his words, a small part of me comes back to life.

  Chapter 8

  Brady

  Damn Noah was turning out to be the bane of my fucking life. Three hours it took us to get my tires back up. Three fucking hours. That’s three hours I’m never gonna get back. Three hours I could have spent wooing my lady. Three damn hours that I wouldn’t have lost in the first place if Noah hadn’t decided to go all vigilante law enforcement and mess with my truck.

  Now I gotta be honest, for a few moments I was definitely considering being done with the douche. He'd messed with my truck and frankly, he was putting a dampener on my buzz, lectur ing es on how I gotta give Cindy space and how stalking is a crime in the state of Georgia. He more than made up for all of it though. Seems my boy knows how to make shit up to me. After taking a walk to Tucker's house to play some video games and take the piss out of his new haircut - which I kid you not looks just like Justin Bieber’s, he finally let it slip. Cindy was at his house. They were having girl time. Girl time!

  I don’t know about any other dudes, but to me girl time means one thing. It means talking about yours truly, naked pillow fights and drinking cocktails. I don’t think I've ever finished a mission on Call of Duty so fast in my life. So yeah, Noah is now officially my number one best friend again. Not too sure about his fiancé getting my little dark - haired beauty all drunk and shit though. Oh hell! Who am I kidding? The sight of Cindy shaking her ass on that table more than made up for it.

  Now I’m sitting in my truck outside Cindy’s house with Brian in the passenger seat wondering what is a respectable time to be knocking on her door to apparently check on her. I've been up half the night, even imagined a few times that she'd be drowning in her own vomit. Depressing as fuck I know. I'm sure a quack would tell me it's some kinda issue from my Dad. No it's not, it's just that girl up in that room is the most fucking important thing in my life whether she’s here in Franklin, college in LA, or standing on the damn moon.

  It's past nine so surely she'll be up, but if I remember my Cindy right, she likes her sleep. I’m not sure if I wanna catch her as soon as she gets up. She'll probably be more agreeable once she’s had her morning coffee and got some food in her belly.

  I know I've got a cheesy as hell smile on my face despite the horror movie style pictures I've had in my head all night. My cheeks are aching from all the grinning I do when I think of how she felt in my arms last night. I got to talk to my Cinders last night, hold her in my arms and even tuck her into bed. Best night of my life.
>
  I’m not gonna lie, over the past few days I've been doubting this plan. Wondering if my dark haired beauty had closed the door on us for good, but I know better now. I saw the look in her eyes, felt how she nuzzled into my neck. I swear she even took a sniff of me a few times. Oh yeah, she still wants me. The feeling is very fucking mutual as well. Shit, having her so near last night near enough killed me. The amount of control and self-restraint I had to have was torture, but I’m not into using alcohol as a way to get what I want. Me and Cindy are for keeps, not something to regret the next morning.

  A tapping on the window causes me to near enough jump outta my skin. I almost expect to see my boy standing there again to tell me to move it and I’m ready to blast his ass into next week if it is, but instead, it's Deena, a cup in her hands and eyebrows near enough in her hair line. Shit, looks like I’m busted.

  I put on my most innocent expression which never fails, and push the driver’s side door open, Deena sidesteps it, the cup with steam drifting off it nestled in both of her hands. Damn, I hope that’s coffee and I hope like fuck it's for me.

  "Brady Cooper, please explain to me why you've been sitting outside my house for the past half hour."

  "Deena, you're looking lovely as always." Yeah, that’s right, I’m gonna go for the charm offensive. Works every fucking time. "Was it half an hour? I must have spaced out for a second."

  "Sure." She doesn’t seem convinced. Shit, I forgot the Martin women were immune to my charm. Just my fucking luck that the one family I could do with it working on is the one that looks at me as if I’m a fucking idiot every time I use it.

  I scoop Brian up quickly before jumping down. Brian’s my official get out of jail free card. He’s so damn cute that everyone always forgets why the hell they’re pissed at me on seeing him. Everyone except Blondie of course. She’s got something against Brian though, holding grudges and shit because he’s got a weak bladder. I thrust him in Deena’s face, his little waggly tail whipping from side to side.

  "Look who I’ve brought to see you. It’s Brian!" I say enthusiastically.

  "Oh, aren’t you a cutie? Brady, there’s breakfast in the warming tray. Bring Brian in, I bet he'd like some food, wouldn’t you boy? Oh and here’s some coffee."

  "Coffee!" I cheer before swapping Brian for the cup, more than happy with the trade. "Lead the way Deena babillina."

  I slam the door to my truck shut and follow behind Deena who’s busy cooing at to Brian and tickling his belly. Judging by the way the little guy's tongue is hanging out, I'd say he’s loving it. I can’t help laughing at how chillaxed he looks and take a sip of the coffee.

  "Ah shit!" I hiss, coffee dribbling down my chin. "Fuck that’s hot!"

  "The coffee is fresh honey, mind your mouth."

  "I guessed that." I mumble, opening and closing my mouth to try and get some feeling into it. Can you get like third degree fucking burns on the inside of your mouth?

  I follow Deena into the house, the smell of bacon hitting my nose straight away and taking my mind off my abused mouth. Damn, if I knew there was bacon I'd have come in earlier. I wonder if she’s got pancakes too. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since the peanut and jelly sandwich I ate last night before bed. Hardly a fucking five course meal. There ain't no better cook than Deena, not in this State anyway.

  "Where is everyone?" I ask. It’s pretty rare this house is empty, especially in the Summer. I’m sure Brian’s counting his lucky fucking stars that Bailey's not here, the girls took a shine to the little guy and loves dressing him up.

  "Aiden and Avery are at work." Deena sighs w e arily and places Brian on the floor. He’s off like a fucking rocket. "Jim took Bailey to Savannah to get a birthday present for her friend Janey. Cindy’s still in bed, I’m sure with a raging hangover." She gives me a wry smile.

  "She's not up yet then?"

  "Oh, no. I checked on her all through the night." The tight ball in my stomach unravels. "She woke up around two, stumbling about trying to get out of her clothes. I never thought I'd be helping my twenty-year-old daughter get into her pajamas."

  I roll my eyes knowing full well she’s full of shit. She loves taking care of her kids no matter how old they are. She was almost more depressed when Cindy and I broke up than I was, thinking it was her chance to get her to move back to Franklin.

  I pop myself onto one of the high barstools and prop my arms on the breakfast bar, completely comfortable. A plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs is placed in front of me.

  "Damn, you sure know how to take care of a man." I say, snatching up the fork that’s laced at my side and tucking in. This meal is my enemy and the fork is my weapon. I’m spearing bacon and pancakes on it like it's gonna jump off the plate and run away.

  "Somehow I don’t think Cindy is going to be very hungry this morning." She sighs.

  "Are you kidding? When I drink I’m always starving when I wake up." I point down to the plate with the fork and nod. "This is good."

  I take big gulps of the coffee in between bites. Fuck, I’m starving. It’s a good job I’m eating before seeing Cindy or else I’d probably eat her. That has me stopping mid - bite. Damn does that have a double meaning. I snicker to myself, shaking my head and then I carry on eating.

  "So, I’m guessing you're here to convince your beloved that you're the one for her." Deena says wistfully, staring at the ceiling. I look up wondering what the hell she’s looking at before bringing my attention back to the tasty as hell food.

  "Uh huh." I say, my mouth full. Ain't got time to be speaking and eating separately so both will have to do.

  "It’ll work out in the end, honey. True love always prevails."

  I nod my head. It’s the only thing I can do because there ain't a doubt in my mind that what Cindy and I have is true love. Hell, I wouldn’t jump through hoops for anyone else. It’s her, it's always been her and it’ll always be her. I've just got to make her see that I fucked up, but it'll never happen again.

  I have to stop myself from licking the plate because the last time I did that, I thought Deena was gonna have my hide. That woman’s food though, well, it might just be worth an ass kicking. I lean back in my seat, satisfied with a full belly. I drain the last swill of coffee in the cup and stand up straight, stretching my arms above my head.

  "So, Cindy’s still asleep." I state more than ask.

  "Yes honey. She’s got some Tylenol and a bottle of water next to the bed for when she wakes up. I checked on her just before coming out to you."

  "Alrighty then, I'll be heading up." I head for the door before feeling a small hand with an iron fucking grip grab onto me.

  "Oh no you don’t Brady Cooper. You know the rules. No boys in the girl’s bedrooms and vice versa. Just because Cindy doesn’t technically live here anymore doesn’t matter. House rules!"

  "Come on, Deena you let me last night." I whine and pout. No woman can resist the Brady pout. "I’m only gonna wake her up. Think how happy she'll be to see this face on waking up." I point to myself.

  "She'll be something alright." Deena snorts. "And you know full well last night was different."

  I bring the puppy eyes out in full force. They’re my back up plan.

  "Oh go on then, you impossible boy! You have ten minutes before I come up there and drag you down by your ear."

  "You know it makes sense." I give her a loud wet kiss on the cheek and a beaming smile. See, the pout and puppy eyes work every fucking time even if the charm doesn’t.

  I dodge the dish cloth flying towards my head, chuckling as I near enough run up the stairs. I know I only saw my dark haired beauty last night, but fuck, that was like twelve hours ago. Twelve. Whole. Hours. You can’t expect a guy to go for half a year without seeing the love of his fucking life then practically shove her in his face for two days and then take her away again. It’s not fair.

  I come to a stop outside the bedroom door. I look either side for any sign of Cindy’s Dad.

 
; "Stop being so fucking paranoid Brady. You heard Deena, he’s at work." I mumble to myself. It’s a rare thing being on this side. This was an entrance I only ever used if I was willing to take a bullet in the ass from her Dad.

  I press down on the handle and push the white door open. The room is completely different to when it was Cindy’s. Back then it was all modern and shit with shiny black furniture and white walls. The wallpaper on the main wall was a mix of the both. I used to think it matched my Cinders perfectly. The black and white like the dark pitch black of her hair and pale white of her skin.

  I chuckle on seeing Cindy in bed. Obviously, her fucked up sleeping habits haven’t changed much. Never in my life have I ever known or even heard of anyone sleeping the way she does. Scared the shit outta me the first time I saw it; I didn’t know what the hell was going on. The comforter is pulled right up to her chin, the only thing showing other than her head is the one hand hanging off the bed. Her hair is spread out over the pillow, practically covering it. The fucked up part though is her legs, bent with one crossed over the other, How the hell can she even sleep like that? She looks so damn casual apart from the fact she’s lying down asleep.

  Man, she’s so gorgeous I’m tempted to take a picture of her. Douchebag Noah would have a damn field day with that shit though. Her pouty pink lips are slightly puckered and I fist my hands at my sides to stop me from bending down and laying a kiss on them. Her long black eyelashes fan her cheeks, so obvious against the pale skin. She’s a natural beauty with not one single blemish or pimple. The feminists of the world would be up in arms, but despite what Oprah or some shit says, most girls need makeup. They need it because if they ain't wearing it they look like fucking Loki. Cindy though, damn. She’s as perfect first thing in the morning as she is last thing at night and all the time in between.