Be Good A New Adult Romance (RE12)(26)

I knew what he was saying was important but in my half-drunken state, it made my head swim. All I could think about was the pillow and how good it would feel under my head.

Brett led me to the bed and I got in. He tucked the blanket around me then gave me a soft kiss on the forehead.

As my eyes closed, I could hear Brett whisper, “Good night, Anna.” I fell asleep before I heard my bedroom door shut.





Nine


The next morning, I woke up in a panic. I dreamt that Brett left in the middle of the night. He told me he didn’t want to be with me. That I wasn’t worth the trouble. Not that I hadn’t heard that many times before but it completely tore me apart coming from Brett.

I breathed a small sigh of relief when I realized Brett was in bed with me. He must have snuck in sometime during the night while I was asleep.

He stirred. “Is everything okay,” he asked still groggy with sleep.

“I had a nightmare,” I replied but didn’t elaborate.

I was surprised, and hopeful, when he gave me a kiss on the cheek before he rolled out of bed.

“Do you have anything I can cook for breakfast?” he yelled from the bathroom.

“We have eggs and bread for toast.”

He didn’t say anything else as he headed for the kitchen. I rolled out of bed and followed him. He was already removing items from the refrigerator in a flurry of activity.

“You have everything I need to make Fresh Toast,” he said. “Even cinnamon.”

If we had cinnamon, it was probably because Winter needed it for one of her witch potions. I’d never seen her cook.

“I love French Toast,” I said eagerly.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Brett still wasn’t looking at me. I knew what I had done the night before was probably unforgivable but I wanted more than anything else for him to forgive me. But did I even deserve his forgiveness? Did I even deserve Brett at all? Did I deserve to be loved by him?

It didn’t take long for the apartment to fill with the wonderful smells of cinnamon French Toast. Brett definitely knew his was around the kitchen. It was one of his many talents.

I set two places at our small kitchen table and Brett brought over the pile of French Toast. Of course, it was enough to feed an army.

“It looks great,” I said.

“Thanks.” Brett still wasn’t quite himself. I knew it was going to take a lot for him to trust me again, if he ever could, and that made me miserable. I sighed.

He glanced up at me and said, “There’s somewhere I’d like to take you today.”

“Okay,” I agreed, thinking he’d elaborate but he didn’t.



***



A few hours later, Brett was driving us out of Phoenix on Highway 60. He was quiet, deep in thought. It made me nervous because he wasn’t sharing what he was thinking and I was afraid to ask. I didn’t want him to share his disappointment in me and I definitely didn’t want to hear that he was ready to end things between us, which I had a horrible feeling might be coming.

As we got further out of the city, and out of civilization, I began to wonder why Brett was bringing me out this far into the desert. There wasn’t very much between Gold Canyon and Globe, which was almost 50 miles away. And the stretch of highway to get to Globe was treacherous and scary, with steep and windy mountain passes. It was a stretch of road I would never drive myself and didn’t even like being a passenger on the drive.

Brett pulled off the road at one of a few small areas where there was actually space between the road and the steep cliff below. This definitely wasn’t a place I found conducive to sightseeing. I didn’t want to get out of the car.

But Brett didn’t make any move to get out of the car, either. We just sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes.

“This is where my mom died,” Brett said finally.

I looked over at him but he was staring straight ahead. He continued. “This is where she drove off the cliff.”

Oh, God. I didn’t know how much more I wanted to hear. She was driving drunk. She drove off a cliff. Was it an accident or did she mean to kill herself? My stomach was already churning.

“Like Thelma and Louise,” I blurted without thinking, because it’s one of the things I’m so good at.

He actually gave a stiff laugh. “Except that she was alone in the car and she wasn’t on the run from the police.”

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Everything he had told me about his mom was so horrible and tragic, it was hard to swallow.

Without another word, Brett put the car into drive, pulled a U-Turn and headed back to Phoenix.

“There’s somewhere else I want to stop.” He didn’t wait for my response before he turned off the road.

A sign said: Boyce Thompson Arboretum. We pulled into the driveway and headed for the parking lot, which only had a few cars.

“I have no idea what an Arboretum is,” I admitted.

Brett parked under a tree. “Guess.”

“Well, knowing you, it’s probably some kind of garden.”

“Pretty good guess.”

The Arboretum was more like a nature preserve with numerous gardens and nature trails connecting the gardens. It was a beautiful day, great for a walk through nature, but I wasn’t exactly wearing the appropriate footwear.

“You could have told me to wear hiking shoes.”

“I wasn’t planning on coming here but it was one of my mom’s favorite places.”

I made a mental note not to complain about my footwear again.

The place was beautiful and serene. I could certainly understand why Brett’s mother loved it so much. Brett didn’t say much for most of the hike but he did hold my hand the entire time, which I thought was a good sign.

As we got near the end of the main trail, there was a small but lovely lake. It was quiet and peaceful, so we sat down on a bench near the water’s edge.

After a moment, Brett spoke. “My dad still feels guilty about my mom’s death. It was eleven years ago and he’s still not over it.”

I didn’t know what to say so I just let him talk.

“I didn’t know my mom’s parents. They both died when I was a baby. My dad told me they were alcoholics. A few years after my mom died, when I was in high school, my dad and I talked about it. He told me that my mom was physically and emotionally abused by her parents and the abuse ruined her life. He didn’t realize until they were married and had me how damaged she really was. She was broken. Dad cried when we talked about it. He tried everything but he just couldn’t help her.”

When Brett looked at me, he had so much pain in his eyes, it took my breath away. I knew then that he wasn’t just talking about his mom. He was talking about me, too. He wanted desperately to fix me. He wanted to save me because he wasn’t able to save his mom.

“You can’t fix another person, Brett. People have to fix themselves.”

We both looked at each other for a long moment. “I know,” he said finally. I could see his eyes were starting to get wet with tears.

I leaned over and gave him a hug. He grabbed me with such force, the breath was pushed from my lungs. His grip was so tight, it felt as if he would never let me go, I would die right there on the spot.

“I love you, Anna,” he whispered into my ear. “I just wish that was enough.”

That completely broke my heart. I started sobbing. “It is enough,” I managed to get out between sobs. “It is enough.”

Brett held my face in his hands then gently wiped away my tears. “I love you so much.”

Then he kissed away the tears on my cheeks. “I don’t deserve you,” I confessed.

“That’s not true.”

“I’m a complete mess. And I’m flawed. And broken. Just like your mom.”

Brett gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “Maybe I love your flaws.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe they are some of my favorite things about you. Especially sixty-eight, rude, and seventy-two, crude.”

“You remember all of my flaws?”

He nodded. “All one hundred and twenty six of them.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re amazing?”

He shook his head.

“No one?”

“Never.”

I wanted to ask: not even Becca, but I restrained myself.

“Well, you are amazing.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Well, I’m glad you think so.”



***



We spent the afternoon in my bedroom engaging in lots of make-up sex. I had no idea how amazing make-up sex could be. Or maybe it was just sex with Brett in general that was so amazing. Anyway, I started to get extremely sad as the evening approached and I knew it was time for him to head back to Palo Alto.