Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail(32)

Brady was on the sidewalk, but turned around. I stopped just short of slamming into him, but he caught my elbows and held me in front of me. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence and a thorough perusal, he asked, "Are you pissed at me?"

Was I? During the party, the fight, and then the police station showdown, I hadn't had time to think about it. Now that I was away, I realized I was pissed. "You're darn right I'm mad. I just spent the night at a party where I got drunk, cried, thought we shouldn't be friends, and then watched you beat Kid up. That's not even adding all the stuff at the police station. You did this. You…you upheavaled my night. I wanted to stay in. I wanted to be boring. I like being boring, Brady"

"Okay! Seriously. Stop shouting. Holy cow, Rayray."

I hadn't realized I'd been shouting, but after I thought about it—I had every right to shout. "I feel like I don't know what's going on anymore. Nothing feels normal anymore."

I looked away. I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes, but Brady caught my chin and pulled me back. With a hand under my chin, he tilted my head up and my eyes met his. He asked in a somber voice, "You don't think we should be friends? Because I really want to kiss you right now."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I held a hand against his chest. "You can't kiss me."

Brady frowned. "Why?"

"Because I don't know what's going on. I don't know if this means something or not."

"What are you talking about? Of course it means something."

"Does it?" I frowned up at him. He looked beautiful. Shadows graced his cheekbones, giving him a thoughtful look. And the seriousness in his eyes allowed him a haunting presence. I felt my heart skip a beat. "I don't know what anything means right now."

Brady stepped away from me. "What are you talking about?"

Did I know? "I don't know, Brady. I just don't know."

"Well, what are you talking about?"

"Deputy Doug asked me about my mom. Why would he ask me about my mom? Why would Frank Stephens hate me so much? Why wouldn't he press charges against you? Nothing makes sense, Brady. And there are girls who say awful things about me…I don't know what to think. I don't know what to do, but the one thing I do know is that kissing you will make things more confusing. It'll be all sorts of confusing. Do you know what I mean? Am I crazy here?"

Brady sighed as he wrapped his arms around me. I shuddered in them, a good shudder. He tucked his chin in my shoulder and murmured, "Do you know what I thought about in there? You, Rayna."

I lifted my arms, fisted, and pressed them against his shoulders. I wanted to say something, I just couldn't.

"You are my best friend. No matter what's going to be thrown at us, we can overcome it. I'm sure. I promise. I want—hell, I can't say that, but I can say that I want this. I want to kiss you, Rayna."

"Hey you two!" Viola shouted across the street. A moment later we heard her car door slam and I lifted glazed eyes to watch my grandmother dart towards us. She looked giddy.

Brady cursed under his breath, but turned with an arm braced around my shoulders. "Thanks for bailing me out, Vi. I owe you."

Viola swept past us. "You sure do. I need you to keep my grandbaby on the straight and narrow."

I flinched.

Brady stiffened.

Viola laughed and threw her head back. The sound was freeing. "I love it, Brady. You got my girl out for an all-night rager. That's what makes memories. It builds character. I need my baby to have some fun."

I watched as my grandmother bypassed us and went inside of the gas station. "She makes it sound like I'm going to die a nun."

When we heard Bob's welcoming roar inside, Brady hugged me. "Well, we both know you won't die a virgin."

I stopped short, but Brady chuckled and kept going.

Glaring at his back, I retorted, "Not funny."

"That's my job, babe." Brady flashed me a smile as he held open the door.

I wasn't sure which annoyed me the most: Brady's arrogance, my grandmother's expectation that I'd die from boredom, or Bob. At that moment, I picked the Bigfoot. I was going to ask if Ned would get rid of it, but the words died in my throat. He and Viola were involved in a heated discussion or maybe I should say that Ned was proclaiming his love and Viola was ignoring him.

Some things never changed.

"What about Friday night? I will buy a dozen roses. I'll light my humble abode on fire with candles. I'll have a gourmet meal delivered. How about it, Viola Leann?"

My grandmother snorted and reached inside a freezer to pull out a carton of vanilla ice cream. "You mean you'll light the plastic fake-candles that you stole from the church five years ago and you'll order pizza for me?"

"Well, when you put it like that, I could throw in for some cheesy bread. Would that do it for you?" Ned was so hopeful. "Don't forget the red roses. They're expensive."

Viola stopped and tightened her hold on the ice cream. "I have been saying no to you for thirty-nine years, Ned. When's it going to change?"

"I've got red roses, Viola. I know for a fact that Neil's never given you flowers. What kind of man is that?"

Viola turned firm eyes on him. "That man has been by my side for forty-three years. And those were some long and hard years, Ned. You remember some of them. He has not once complained, whined, or made me cry. That is a feat no other man can measure up to. So you ask yourself if you could do better."