Priceless (Forbidden Men #8)(25)

Instead of answering Hope, however, he snarled, “You’re about to be naked on my front porch if you don’t stop pissing me off. Sarah is off limits to you.”

Wow. My eyebrows shot up at that possessive little claim. It kind of made me feel bad for thinking he’d ever held anything back from me because of my condition. He really did love me. Just platonically.

“Jeez, Brandt. Calm down. I’m just trying to understand. She’s pretty enough when she isn’t writhing around. So why—”

“Because she’s my friend, and you don’t go f*cking up your friendship by sleeping with that person. Not that it’s any of your business, anyway. Now, could you put your clothes on already?”

Oh, so that was why. Hmm, I wasn’t sure what to think of that. As I wondered if that was the only thing holding him back, Hope whistled.

“Wow, you’re really mad, aren’t you?”

“You just insulted my best friend. What’d you expect me to be?”

“You just had sex with me. I expected you to be a little less protective of another girl? You’re kind of making me feel as if you’re choosing her over me.”

“Hope, Sarah will be my friend forever. You...well, who knows how long you’ll stick around. I’ll always choose her over anyone.”

I’d heard enough. I wasn’t sure whether I should be thrilled because he so adamantly defended me or sick to my stomach with regret because he even felt as if he had to. Or disappointed in him because he was treating a girl he’d just slept with so rudely.

Spinning in my wheelchair, I hurried back to the kitchen as the argument in his bedroom escalated so that I could pretty much hear it as plainly as I had just outside his doorway.

“Oh my God, you are such an *. I can’t believe I let a jerk like you inside me.”

“Hey, you’re the one who showed up here, looking to get laid. I didn’t chase you down. I didn’t beg you for it. I think you got exactly what you wanted.”

“Yeah, until I found you were a sicko freak f*cker.”

“That’s it!” he roared loud enough to make the walls shake. “Get the f*ck out of my house. Right now.”

“Let go of my arm, you bastard. Hey! I’m not finished—my shirt!”

“You can finish getting dressed outside.” I heard their footsteps march through the house until the front door came open.

“You’re such a—” The slam of the door muffled out whatever name Hope was going to shriek at him next.

I jumped and pressed my hand to my mouth.

A second of silence passed before Brandt snarled, “Son of a bitch,” quickly followed by the boom of something crashing to the floor in the front room, quickly followed by shattering glass.

With another startled jolt, I squeezed my eyes shut, but tears still trickled through.

Brandt was a very physical person. He ruled the football field whenever he played and had gotten in quite a few brawls over the years, but he’d never been violent. I wasn’t scared of him now either. I was kind of scared for him, though.

He’d just lost Hope because of me.

I never realized how much flak he received just for being my friend. The thrilled excitement I’d felt when entering this house had morphed from a cold, sick jealousy and then into an honored joy that he loved me, but was now becoming bone-crippling guilt.

I could handle the bitter pill of only being his friend, but I never wanted him to suffer because of it.

Maybe I should just go. I was no good for him. And now, I was only going to be pathetic, pining after him when he didn’t think of me in the same way at all. This sucked so bad.

I turned for the door, but as soon as I opened it, wheeled down the ramp, and turned the corner of the house to see my new car, I slowed to a stop.

We still had plans to meet. He was going to show up at my house within the hour if I didn’t stick around. Mason and Reese would be as confused as hell if I went home now. And I couldn’t cancel on him. It was his birthday.

Blowing out a breath, I lingered outside a few minutes, letting the cool October air wash over me and cool my nerves before I returned to the house. Brandt must be the speediest shower taker on earth because when I opened the screen door and re-entered the kitchen, he strolled in seconds later, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, no shoes, as he rubbed his hair dry with a towel.

Jerking to a halt when he saw me, he blinked and then smiled. “Hey. How’d you get here? Did Mason drop you off? I was planning on picking you up, you know.”

I shrugged, suddenly shy, all the while unable to stop wondering where Hope had touched him and kissed him.

“I know,” I murmured, my cheeks warming as I glanced at my lap. “I just...” What the hell was I doing? This was Brandt, the boy I’d known better than anyone else on earth for five years. I could look him in the eye when I talked to him.

Forcing my face up, I gulped when everything inside me felt funny for merely looking him in the eye. What was wrong with me? Everything felt so different.

Sensing the change, Brandt cocked his head to the side and stepped forward, his eyes filling with worry. “What’s wrong?” Then something passed over his face. “How long have you been here?”

He must be wondering if I’d caught him with Hope. The last thing I wanted was for him to know I knew about that. So I said, “I just got here. I...drove.”