“Big day! Introducing Brayden to the fam, huh? That’s a huge step.”
More like a nightmare. I keep telling myself that we only have to stay for an hour or two and then we can take off. I’m sure Brayden will be traumatized on the drive home. He’ll be in desperate need of therapy afterward.
“Yeah,” I force myself to say, “let’s hope they don’t eat him alive.” Then again, maybe that would be for the best. I need to nip this faux relationship in the bud before it can spiral any further out of control.
She waves a hand. “Please, if anyone can hold their own with your family, it would be Brayden. He’ll have them eating out of the palm of his hand within thirty minutes. Maybe less.”
Hmmm. Demi might be right about that. The guy can be a real charmer when he turns up the wattage. Although, I don’t think my brother, Court, was too impressed. I’m sure the first thing he did after meeting Brayden was call my oldest brother, Ryan, to fill him in on all the gory details. When I phoned my mom a few hours later, she’d already been brought up to speed on the situation and was overjoyed that I was bringing Brayden home to meet them. People like to talk about women being the biggest gossips, but they’re way off target. Some of these guys are like old ladies standing around in a church parking lot, trading stories like baseball cards.
“All right,” I finally say, “I should go.” As I walk to the front door, it feels like I’m marching to a slow, tortuous death.
“Have fun!” Demi calls out, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
There’s no chance of that happening.
As I take the stairwell to the lobby, I run into Ryder, a Western Wildcats hockey player I’ve known since freshman year.
“Hey, Syd,” he says, eyeing me up and down. “Must have a hot date. You look amazing.”
“Thanks. No date. Just a family party.”
He holds open the door. As soon as I exit into the spacious entryway, he pulls up alongside me, asking questions about how soccer is going. I tell him about tying Florida State on Thursday and how the game went into overtime. I’m still kicking myself for giving number sixteen a little too much breathing room. The sneaky little bitch actually made it past me and scored.
Once.
Just once.
We push out into the bright sunshine. The day looks like it will be a nice one for Mom. I’m sure everyone will be outside, enjoying one of the last seasonable afternoons before the weather turns cold.
As Ryder and I say our goodbyes, I spot Brayden’s shiny, black Ford F-150 parked a couple of rows over. Even though I’m unable to see him behind the tinted glass, I feel his attention locked on me as if it’s a physical caress. My skin pebbles as a horde of butterflies wing their way to life inside the confines of my belly.
I’m not sure if it’s the thought of spending the day with Brayden that fills me with so much anxiety or if it’s the idea of taking him home and introducing him to my family. What I can’t deny is that the more time that slides by, the more genuine our relationship begins to feel. My breath catches, getting clogged in my throat as those thoughts echo throughout my brain. That’s exactly what I can’t permit to happen. We might be attempting to fool everyone around us, but I can’t allow myself to get caught up in the charade.
I almost have to force myself to grab the door handle of his truck and yank it open. As I do, my gaze lands on Brayden. The air gets wedged in my throat as I take him in.
He looks...
Hot.
He’s outfitted in a pale pink polo that hugs both biceps along with his chest before being tucked into jeans that do amazing things to his thighs. My mouth turns cottony. At this very moment, I’m probably eating him up with my eyes.
“Hi.” I clear my throat and force my voice to be nonchalant. The last thing I want is for Brayden to suspect the thoughts that are crashing through my head at lightning speed.
“Hey yourself.” His gaze flicks to the sidewalk before he nods. “Was that Ryder McAdams you were talking with?”
My brows draw together as I glance at the hockey player’s retreating form.
“Yeah.”
“Were you two hanging out or something?” His expression darkens.
“No, we just walked out together.” I shrug before asking with a snort, “Why? Are you jealous?” That’s a joke, obviously. Feelings would have to be involved in order for that to happen, and there aren’t any between us.
“Maybe.”
What?
That’s not the answer I was expecting. I still, surprised by his blunt response. “I’ve known him since freshman year. He was friends with Ethan.”
His muscles loosen. “Good to know.”
It’s a surprise when he reaches over and wraps his hand around the back of my head before drawing me in for a kiss that makes me forget every single qualm.
How does he do it?
How does he scramble my senses so completely?
The more he lays his hands—not to mention his lips—on me, the quicker it happens.
By the time we finally break apart, I’m breathing harshly. It’s as if I’ve just run a marathon. His gaze slides down my body, taking in every minute detail, before he flicks his gaze to mine again. “You’re looking good enough to eat, Sydney.”
An arrow of lust detonates in my belly before settling in my core.
“Thanks.” It doesn’t escape me that his compliments have come to mean more than anyone else’s. Both Ryder and Demi commented on how nice I looked, and yet it’s only Brayden’s words that fill me with pleasure.
If I hadn’t already realized that I was knee-deep in shit, it’s now been slammed home with the force of a two-by-four. I need to figure out an extrication plan before this sticky situation becomes more problematic.
“Would you look at us,” he says, humor simmering in his deep voice. “It’s almost like we planned to be all matchy-matchy.”
I rack my brain, trying to remember if I mentioned what I might wear to the party. Since I picked out the outfit a few hours ago, and we haven’t spoken since last night, that’s impossible.
When I remain silent, he adds, “We’re the perfect couple.”
What?
No way. We would have to be the real deal in order for that to be true. This is nothing more than a coincidence.
My heart crashes into my chest. “Please,” I mumble, slamming the door closed and sealing myself inside the truck. “we’re hardly that.”
Brayden’s gaze trails over me for a second time before he reaches out and twirls a thick lock around his finger. For a moment, he seems enamored by the blonde strands. “I like it when you wear your hair down.”
I ruthlessly stomp out any pleasure attempting to bloom inside me. Even though I know it won’t do a damn bit of good, I can’t resist making one last ditch effort to stop this from happening. “You know, it’s not too late to bail on this party. I could tell them you got food poisoning and are busy vomiting your brains out.”
“No way.” He throws the truck into reverse. “I’m excited to meet the rest of your family.” His gaze flickers to mine. “There are so many questions I’m dying to ask that have stumped me for years. Adorable baby pics I want to ooh and aah over.” He waggles his brows in a comical manner. “Maybe you can take me to your childhood room, and we can pour through your old yearbooks.”
I really hope he’s joking. The look in his eyes tells me that he’s not. His lips tremble at the corners when I slump in my seat and release a defeated groan.
“Come on, Brayden,” I whine. “Is that really necessary?”
“Sure is. You’re my girl. I want to find out everything there is to know about you.”
“I’m your fake girl,” I snap, in case he’s in need of a reality check. The words serve as a reminder for not only him but myself as well. “Emphasis on the fake. There’s no reason to delve any deeper than you already have.”
Instead of continuing in the same vein, he changes the subject. “Would you mind putting your addr
ess into my phone?”
He rattles off the password. Left with no other choice, I plug in my parents’ address. A few minutes later, we’re turning onto the highway and heading north. Since the drive should only take roughly half an hour, it’ll be a quick trip.
All through high school, I’d imagined going far away for college. After Peter died, all that changed. There was no way I could move halfway around the country. So, I threw my application in at Western and spoke with Coach Adams about playing soccer. All in all, it’s been a good experience. If I hadn’t attended Western, I wouldn’t have met Demi.
“You’re not very far from school. Do you get home often?” he asks.
I blink back to the present. “Umm, yeah. Usually about once a week.”
With his gaze focused on the ribbon of road beyond the windshield, he nods. “You must be close to your family.”
My voice softens. “Yeah, I am.”
We were always a tight knit group, but the death of my brother made us even more so. Once you experience that kind of gut-wrenching loss, it makes you hold onto the people you love with both hands and never let go. Every time I say goodbye and walk out the door, a lump settles in the pit of my belly, knowing that it could be the last time I see one of them. It sucks. Worse than that, there’s no way to banish the internal thoughts or ignore them. They’ve taken root deep in my psyche.
“How about you?” I ask.
Although, given that Brayden went through a similar experience, my guess is that he is. It’s a shit thing to have in common. And yet, I feel inexplicably closer to him because of it. He’s one of the few people that I didn’t meet in a support group who understands how that kind of grief can break you.
“Yup. Unlike you, I only have one sister. Elle. You met her at the party.”
“Ahh, yes,” I say lightly, “the infamous party where I discovered I was in a committed relationship. Who could forget that?”
He chuckles. “Certainly not me. You must thank your lucky stars every night that we found our way to one another. Fake boyfriend or not, I’m a real catch.”
I snort. Could this guy be more full of himself?
“All you’ve done, believe it or not, is complicate my life.” I shake my head and mutter, “Thank my lucky stars...Give me a break.”
He flashes me a charming smile that has undoubtedly dropped hundreds of panties on this campus alone. “Aww, sugar-booger, don’t be that way.”
Oh no, he didn’t.
My eyes widen as I swing toward him in horror. “Don’t ever call me that again.”
My reaction has his smile morphing into a full-on grin. “What’s wrong?” There’s a beat of silence. “You don’t like my pet name for you?”
“God, no.” I shudder for good measure.
He presses his lips together for a contemplative moment. “How about snookums?”
Is he seriously demented? “Forget it.”
“Muffin?” he asks with raised brows.
“No,” I snap.
“Sexy pants?”
“Really?” I twist in the seat until I can face him.
“Sure.” He shrugs. “Why not?”
“I can think of about twenty reasons off the top of my head. How about we just forget the cutesy names for the time being?” And when I say the time being, I mean forever.
“Come on, that’s part of the fun of being a couple.” There’s a pause before he tacks on, “Sugar lips.”
“You’re seriously killing me right now.”
His shoulders shake with mirth. “All right, pudding, I’ll stop. Turns out my girl doesn’t like pet names. Who knew?”
It’s almost a relief when we pull up in front of my house. Since I’m dreading this party, that’s really saying something.
Brayden looks past me to the two-story brick residence with its white columns and matching red brick walkway that cuts through the front lawn. Leafy green hedges hug the front of the structure, giving it an idyllic look. There’s always a sense of peace that fills me when I return home.
Except for this time.
I glance at him as he continues to quietly stare. “Having second thoughts?” Because it’s much too late to do anything about it now. We’ve probably been spotted from the windows and the alarms have been sounded.
“Nope,” he says, sounding strangely like he means it. “I’m looking forward to meeting everyone.”
A puff of air escapes from me. “It’s doubtful you’ll feel that way in twenty minutes,” I mutter. “If they’re in rare form, fifteen.”
“Bring it on.”
We exit the truck and meet on the sidewalk before heading to the front door. I don’t get more than two steps when Brayden slips my hand into his larger one. For a heartbeat, I stare at the place we’re now connected. As nervous as I am, his strong fingers wrapped securely around mine settle something deep inside me.
When I reach out with my other hand for the door handle, Brayden clears his throat.
I pause when he says, “You know that I’ll be on my best behavior, right?”
Surprise floods through me. Before I can come up with a response, he continues. “I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”
The earnestness of both his words and expression has my muscles loosening.
I jerk my head into a tight nod. “Thank you.”
He gives me a wink and I throw the door open.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sydney
Brayden is a step behind me as we enter the foyer. There isn’t one moment when I’m not intensely aware of his male presence. As soon as the door closes, boisterous voices greet my ears. We are not, nor have we ever been, a quiet family. We’re loud and energetic—sometimes even a little unruly—with a proud Italian heritage. When my grandparents were alive, both my Nonna and Nonno were always here, adding to the commotion.
My mother peeks around the corner of the kitchen at the back of the hallway. As soon as our gazes fasten, the edges of her lips bow up into a delighted smile. “Sydney! You’re here!”
Her excitement has the last of my nerves draining away. You would think by her enthusiastic reaction that she hasn’t laid eyes on me in years, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I was just here last Tuesday to pick up Lucus and take him out for ice cream. It’s a tradition we started when I was sixteen years old after passing my driver’s test, and we’ve been doing it ever since. If my twenty-three-year-old brother has one weakness, it’s for triple chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. It’s the only time we spend together where it’s just the two of us. It’s his chance to tell me everything that’s going on in his life.
“Hi, Mom,” I say in greeting.
Her gaze immediately slides to the guy towering over me. The heat of his large body burns into my backside, making me even more cognizant of his overwhelming presence.
“And this must be Brayden.” Mom steps more fully into the doorway before wiping her hands on a dish towel. “We’ve heard all about you.”
Oh, lord.
I’m going to throttle Court when I get my hands on him.
My father fills the space behind Mom along with two of my brothers. Court beams a wide smile in my direction as if he knows the thoughts currently circulating through my head. When I narrow my eyes, silently promising retribution, his shoulders shake with barely suppressed laughter.
Juliette, my oldest brother’s wife, joins the throng. My nephew, Caden, is held in her arms. He’s two years old and into everything. I’ve babysat for him on several occasions and at the end, I go home more exhausted than if I’d played every minute of a soccer match. I would never say this to my brother or his wife because I love them more than anything, but Caden could be a posterchild for birth control. As adorable as the little demon appears, he’s hell on wheels. That kid is the reason I won’t be having offspring any time soon.
My oldest brother, Ryan, emerges behind his wife.
“Still looking forward to this?” I whisper between gritted teeth so on
ly he can hear. It’ll be a miracle if he makes it out of here in one piece.
“Absolutely.”
The only reason Brayden sounds so confident is because he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into. Just wait a couple of hours—he’ll be curled up in the fetal position, sucking his thumb in a corner. These people don’t care if he’s Brayden Kendricks, Wildcats football stud who will go on to play in the pros. They’ll eat him alive for dinner and ask what’s for dessert.
“Sydney!” Lucus shouts in excitement, drawing my attention back to the growing crowd of family members as he barrels through them before closing the distance that separates us and throwing his arms around me. “I missed you!”
“I missed you, too, bud.” I hold him close for a moment before releasing him and stepping away. I point to the tall guy beside me. “This is my friend, Brayden. He’s here to help us celebrate Mom’s birthday.”
Even though Lucus is only a few inches shorter than Brayden, he tilts his head and sizes up the dark-haired football player silently.
Air gets wedged in my throat. There have been a handful of times when my brother has taken an instant dislike to someone and nothing anyone says or does is able to change his mind. It’s an awkward situation for all involved. I really hope my family prepared him for this.
Only now does it occur to me that I should have mentioned to Brayden that my brother has Angelman Syndrome. It’s not often that I bring guys home, and when I do, the way they handle themselves in his presence gives me a true glimpse into the kind of people they are. Call it a litmus test of sorts.
Brayden raises a hand in greeting. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me drop by.”
A hushed stillness falls over the group that stretches just to the point of discomfort. I’m about to jump in and save us from impending doom when Lucus tilts his head. “You play football?”
“Yup,” Brayden replies easily, “I’m a wide receiver for the Wildcats.” There’s a beat of silence. “Do you like football?”
Campus Heartthrob (The Campus Series Book 2) Page 17
