LILY
"And you left? Just like that?" Concerned voice of Brandon was relieving my heart a bit.
I nodded, standing in the Ornate Victorian doorway. Tears streaked down my face as I sniffled, merging in with the rain.
"But why did you take the coffee maker?"
"It's a long story." I shrugged stood in silence.
"Oh sorry!" Brandon blinked, suddenly realizing he hadn't invited me inside. "Come in, come in!"
He slid one of his big arms around me and practically pulled me inside. It felt warm and reassuring and immeasurably good.
"Lily..I.." he said, closing the door. "I'm so sorry."
The house really was beautiful, especially at night. Lots of old, original finishes. Some still needed repairs, but—
"Wanna talk about it?" he asked
I shook my head. Probably a little too quickly.
"That's fine," Brandon said sympathetically. "I can wait."
Sympathetic I could take. Pity I could not. I didn't detect even the slightest pity as Brandon took me by the wrist and led me into the kitchen. Before I could protest, he thrust a beer into my hand.
"Or would you rather have wine? I think Colin has a bottle somewhere. Let me—"
I tilted the bottle back in answer and downed five or six really big gulps. The cold liquid tasted amazing, especially against the warmth of the room's big old, cast-iron radiator. Even with the water dripping from my hair, I let out a long, gratified sigh.
"Beer it is then," Brandon smiled.
I wanted to confide with Lauren. One of my oldest friends, Lauren would know exactly what to do. It wasn't until I pulled up to her house that I realized she was still in Italy — and had been for most of the week. Thinking back, she'd probably told me a half dozen times and it just never registered.
Crying in front of her house, I felt like a shitty friend.
You gave up most of your friends for Garrett, I reminded myself bitterly. Remember that?
And so I'd driven here. Mechanically. Automatically. Through the pouring rain.
It was the only other place I could think of.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"Colin crashed early," he said. "Morning swim practice. Hunter's in his room with the door closed." He squinted down at me shrewdly. "Trust me, you do not want to mess with Hunter's room. Especially when the door's closed."
I nodded, looking back at Brandon and actually seeing him for the first time. He wore old faded sweatpants, with some kind of logo emblazoned on one leg that the dryer must've burned off years ago. Stretched over his massive chest was the tightest black T-shirt ever. It looked even more comical painted over the thickest part of his biceps. I laughed inwardly, realizing it could be an XXL and it would still look small on him.
He waited until I drained my beer then handed me another one, already open. Before I could say anything else he turned a kitchen chair around and straddled it backwards.
"So…" he said sternly, sitting down. "Out with it."
I told him. I told him everything. From my failed marriage to my failed attempt at living with my ex to my failure to find a full-time teaching job. Brandon listened intently, crossing his arms over the back of his chair. Resting his chin on top of his hands, waiting on every sad word of my sorry tale.
"Listen I'm sorry to bother you with all this," I said when I was done. I'd probably just gushed for half an hour. "I feel like such a colossal as***le."
"Save it" he scoffed. "You're not bothering anyone."
I sighed and accepted the fresh tissue he offered me. I had no idea where he'd gotten it.
"Your fraternity brothers already turned in. You probably want to go to bed."
The rain outside grew louder. I could hear it pattering on the roof. Tapping against the kitchen windows.
"Then come to bed with me," he said.
My stomach did a somersault.
"W—What?"
"Sleep with me," he said. "I mean, not with me. With me." He shook his head again. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean you're obviously staying here tonight. With us. So stay in my room, and—"
"And sleep," I smirked.
"Right. You take the bed and I'll… I'll take the couch."
It was cute, watching him stumble. I let it go on for a little while longer.
"I'm not taking your bed," I told him.
"The f**k you aren't," he said, rolling his shoulders forward. There was something extremely sexy about watching the competitive, football player side of him coming out full force.
"Why not just sleep in the bed with me?" I asked. "I've seen your bed. We can both fit. We're both adults."
"Can't do it," he shook his head.
"Don't trust yourself?" I teased.
"Nope. Not that." He rolled his eyes. "Well, that, but also Colin and Hunter would both drill me a new as***le if I did."
I let my gaze shift to the living room. The couch was downstairs.
"But I don't want to be alone," I said, and I meant it.
He looked conflicted for a moment. "Fine. I'll sleep on the floor."
He got up, and my eyes wandered his body again. He was being incredibly sweet. The perfect gentlemen. I was grateful for that, but there was still a reckless part of me that wanted to throw myself into his arms. Let him take me upstairs and ravish me, any way he wanted, while the thunder crashed and the rain came down all around us.
Easy, Lily
It was only the beer talking. Or the loneliness. Or both. Either way, I chastised myself immediately.
"Alright fine," I said. "I'll take the bed, you take the floor."
Brandon smiled and rose to his full, impressive height. Reaching down, he took my hand with surprising gentleness and led up me upstairs… to his bedroom.