Braydon(97)

“Right now?” Cheyenne asked tentatively.

“Yeah. Right now.” Brendon swayed on his feet but managed to right himself, hoping Cheyenne didn’t notice.

“Fine. But I’m gonna drive you,” she stated firmly.

Her forest-green eyes penetrated him as she waited, probably expecting him to argue.

He wasn’t going to argue. Not with her. Not right now.

“Sure. Why the hell not,” he muttered as he snatched his hat off the table where he’d tossed it at some point and grabbed his keys off the hook near the door. He slipped his feet into flip-flops before turning back to where she was still sitting on the couch. “I meant now.”

“Okay,” she said huffily, “give me the keys.”

Brendon turned toward the door, a small smile on his face. What was it about this woman? She drove him completely insane, as he did her, but her mere presence was one of the most reassuring feelings he’d had in a very long time.

Less than two minutes later, they were pulling into Jessie’s driveway. Cheyenne behind the wheel of his truck was probably the hottest thing he’d seen in . . . maybe ever. After she tossed the truck in Park, he bolted. It was that or lose what was left of his common sense. Sure, there were plenty of times when he’d thought long and hard—more like fantasized, really—about being close to Cheyenne again, but having her that close, it was f*cking torture. The sweet scent of her perfume, or maybe it was just her hair, had filled the interior of his truck, and that sudden light-headedness had threatened to overwhelm him.

Out of habit, he walked around to the driver’s side, ready to help Cheyenne out. She had already opened the door, leaving him the only option of reaching up to help her out of the jacked-up truck. When her hand touched his, the silky smoothness of her fingers against his palm was nearly his undoing. He knew that if he wanted a chance in hell of not doing something stupid, he wasn’t going to be able to touch her. Even without touching her, he knew the chance was pretty damn low, so he made a mental note to stay as far from her as physically possible.

Brendon led the way to Jessie’s front door and rapped his knuckles lightly on the wood.

He could hear the sound of footsteps moving across the floor. When the door flew open, he was face-to-face with Jessie.

“I’m gonna wait out here,” Cheyenne said from behind him. “Hi, Jessie.”

“Are you okay?” Brendon asked Jessie before glancing over his shoulder at Cheyenne. She’d already perched on the railing, and he took that to mean she really was going to stay outside.

“Fine,” Jessie sobbed.

Just f*cking great. A crying woman.

As though Brendon’s day hadn’t been shitty enough.

“Mind if I come in?” Brendon asked, trying to keep his tone from leaking the hostility that continued to course through him.

“Sorry,” Jessie said as she took a step back, “come in.”

“Have you been crying?” Brendon asked, the answer obvious, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“No,” Jessie answered a little aggressively. “How are you feeling?” Jessie finally asked when Brendon closed the front door.

“Just f*cking peachy,” he answered as he made his way to the couch. Dropping down, he crossed one leg over the opposite knee and propped his hands on his flat stomach as he watched her.

“Why are you here?” Jessie asked, sincere bafflement in her eyes.

“I wanted to talk,” he admitted.

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh. “About damn time, huh?”

That earned him a small smile from Jessie. “I’ve been meaning to come talk to you, too.”

“We should’ve done this months ago, Jess, I know that,” he finally told her, glancing down and studying his lap.

“It might’ve helped,” she said.

Figuring it was time to suck it up and clear the air, Brendon met Jessie’s gaze. “Look, I’m really sorry. I’ve been shitty to you lately and you didn’t deserve it. I . . . I don’t know why I’ve become such a selfish * lately, but—”

“It’s because you’re scared,” Jessie interrupted. “And I owe you an apology, too. I should’ve, uh”—Jessie glanced over at the front door briefly—“I should’ve talked to you. After Braydon was gone. That was hard for me, too.”

Brendon didn’t want to openly admit he was scared, but Jessie had nailed it. He was terrified. Life had taken a turn he hadn’t been ready for. Instead of acting like an adult, he had taken the feelings of everyone he knew and cared about and crushed them as a way of dealing with his own personal shit. Jessie had been caught in the cross fire.

“I really want things to work for you and Braydon. I’m not sure if he told you, but . . .” Again, Brendon focused his attention on his hands, twisting them together as he tried to find the words. “I knew how he felt about you. I’ve known for a long time. Truth is,” he said as he met her blue eyes, “I didn’t know what to do about that. It’s out of the norm for us.”

Jessie chuckled, partly in amusement, partly in disbelief. He understood her point.

“I get that we don’t do things the conventional way. I’m not going to make excuses for that or say that I’m sorry, either. It’s the way things were.” Keeping his gaze locked with hers, Brendon said, “I wouldn’t change a thing, Jessie.”