Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High #4)(79)

There’s a shadow in her dark eyes, one that has me pausing, but instead of voicing what’s crossed her mind, her hand finds my bicep and she squeezes. “Go on,” she orders quietly. “You know the way home.”

For some reason, I feel compelled to say, “I’m good, Maybell.”

She nods, the corner of her lips lifting. “You are, Tor. You will be.”

I pinch my lips together, nodding and get out of the aisle as quickly as I can.

I hate when she gets all crypto like that.

On my way out, I buy a drink, taking a second to open it and breathe before cutting across a small park beside the building. I get halfway through the open field when my steps slow, only to come to a full-on halt seconds later.

Across the road a sexy, sleek, black SUV I’d recognize anywhere is parked, and sitting right inside with the driver window rolled halfway down, is Captain.

His chin is dropped to his chest, and I can’t tell from here, but I think his eyes are closed.

Panic wraps around my ribs, squeezing like a tight rope, and I’m ready to run right for him, to make sure he’s okay, conscious and breathing, when suddenly his head pops up, the window rising with it.

His door is shoved open, and he slams it closed behind him just as quickly. Phone in hand, Captain takes quick steps up a long, curving driveway, and right as he reaches the hilt, where the cement meets the stone steps leading to the front door, it opens... and all the air is forced from my airway as Mallory is revealed on the other side.

As if my blood has turned to stone in my veins, the unexpected weight threatens to collapse my lungs and snap my ankles.

I’m frozen in place, unable to look away, traitorous eyes glued on what may very well be the end of our beginning, on Ken and his Barbie, flawless, gorgeous.

Made for each other.

He says something, and I wish I knew what, as she answers with a smile.

Mallory steps from the doorway, but keeps one hand inside, wrapped around the frame of the front door.

The ice that froze me here must have fully taken over, numbing other parts of me, because I feel nothing when she grips his shirt as he likes to do with mine, gently pulling him closer, and it doesn’t sting when she angles her mouth to his and he does nothing to stop her.

She’s cautious, almost slow motion in her advance, or maybe that’s how my mind decides to torture me, by slowing this nightmare down to make sure I can replay it with no moment left out.

Her pink lips lock with his.

Thick full lips I crave but am not allowed to touch.

That refuse to touch mine.

What’s worse than the kiss itself is Captain’s response, or lack thereof.

He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t tear away, or shove her off.

Her lips mold to his and he accepts them, accepts her.

Her feet begin to shuffle backward, her lips still aligned with his, fists still tight on his shirt as she leads him the two steps from the porch to the entryway.

She stares up at him, and he down at her as his foot makes the final move, officially placing him across the threshold.

Blindly, Captain reaches behind him, closing them inside.

As if the seal of the door shook the ground beneath me, cracked the earth to its core and released a molten lava right at my feet, the ice in my blood melts, and I’m flooded with everything at once.

The ache and the burn and the venomous sting threaten to take me to my knees, but I refuse to fall.

It’s a deserving pain, after all, so I welcome it, embrace it.

“Fuck you doing, VicVee.” Royce’s voice suddenly meets my ear, and then he’s beside me, staring at the same door I can’t seem to pull my eyes from. “Go get your man.”

I must shake my head because he asks with a heated undertone, “He not worth the fight, or are you too weak, not up for a challenge?”

“He’s worth every hit, Royce. Every battle.” I’m surprised by the hollowness of my own voice, and he must be too, because his head snaps my way. Slowly, I meet his eyes. “I’d fight for what I want, and I can sure as shit handle it. I’m not too weak or afraid or anything else you might think or want to believe, not in the slightest.”

He turns his body to face me better.

“I’d go up against anything or anyone for him.”

He frowns, whispering, “Except her.”

I nod, and I’d go as far as to say he feels bad, not that I want him to.

Royce looks away, heavy tension lining his forehead. “That’s fair, but that girl, she don’t deserve him.”

If only he knew how true a statement that was.

His footsteps carry him away, and then he calls, “Come on, girl. Let’s go home, huh?”

Translation: let’s not sit here and see how long it takes him to come back out.

“Did you know?” I call out.

“That Cap is fucking his baby mama, who I’m half tempted to feed to the gorilla at the zoo?” he snaps. “Nah, can’t say I did.”

He slips inside with a hard slam to his door, so I make my way over, climbing into the passenger seat of his SUV.

He puts it in gear but before he presses on the gas, his dark eyes swing to mine. He opens his mouth to speak, but then shakes his head and off we go.

Only once on the drive back do I realize the timing was no accident, none of it. The trip to the store, Cap’s arrival, Royce and the ride home.