Chapter Ten
Emily
Four-and-a-half hours into our car shopping day, Braden was conflicted.
At least, he should have been conflicted — but really, it was just me trying to make a conundrum when he’d already made up his mind.
“You’re making a mistake,” I sang.
“And you’re making me regret letting you come today,” Braden sang in return. He had quite a nice singing voice, actually. I added that to the list of things that made him attractive, which was a mile long at this rate.
The fact that he’d asked about my family, listened so intently to me, hadn’t judged, and also had let me drop it when I was ready to was currently at the top of the list.
How hot he looked in the black cap he wore was right beneath that. I particularly loved the way his hair curled out from under the edge of it. I wondered if it was messy underneath that cover, if that usual wave was more disheveled today.
Almost two hours had passed since the conversation about my parents, and I was still a little shocked that it had happened at all.
I supposed I shouldn’t have been. It’s not like what I shared was groundbreaking or top secret.
But I was always quick to change the subject when someone asked me about my parents.
Then again, most people were quick to let me.
The truth is not everyone wants to know you at the soul-deep level.
A lot of friends want the shallow edges of you, the bright and brilliant parts that reflect light onto them and make them feel good.
It’s rare to find someone who wants to sit in the darkness with you, who wants to hold space for the emotions you carry that aren’t always easy to sit with.
Braden had been that person for me today.
He’d caught me in a rare moment when I actually did want to talk about it, where I did want to share the burden of my feelings with someone who might give a shit. And maybe that was the biggest part of what made me open up to him — he legitimately seemed like he cared.
Or maybe I was a dumbass and blinded by his hotness, mistaking his question and insistence that I answer it for something more than it was.
Whatever the case, I felt a little lighter after sharing with him.
The pain wasn’t gone. I’d never be free of the weight I carried when it came to my parents’ expectations, or lack thereof.
But Braden had picked up one corner of that heavy ass dresser stuffed full of history and baggage and carried it with me for a moment — and it had been nice.
Now, however, I wanted to throttle the sexy sonofabitch because he was being supremely stupid.
“You don’t want this car,” I said, gesturing to the Toyota Camry.
“It’s a fine car.”
“It’s the exact same one you had before.”
“Precisely. Which means it’ll feel like home.”
“Yeah, if home were a can on wheels destined to bring down your fuckable score.”
“What exactly is my score at the moment, if I may ask?”
“Without this car, you’re a solid eight. With it, however, you sink to a five, at least.”
“Only an eight? You wound me.”
He covered his chest and stumbled back a bit, but then his smile fell and he turned to the saleswoman, who was glancing between the two of us like we were insane.
“I would love to get the paperwork going on this one. Thank you,” he said to her.
“Actually, he would like to get the paperwork going on the 2024 Bronco Sport that we test drove before,” I interjected, pinning the saleswoman with a sweet smile that I turned to Braden next before mirroring his words. “Thank you.”
“No,” Braden said, and the way he snapped the word with authority sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
This fucking man and the way he makes my insides twist up into a thousand knots.
“Yes,” I combatted.
“It’s out of my budget.”
“Your budget is dumb.”
“It’s twice the price of the Camry.”
“And the Camry is twice as old with three times the miles on it.”
“This isn’t your decision to make.”
The poor saleswoman cleared her throat, clasping her hands together behind her back before she backed away with a hesitant smile. “I’ll give you two a moment to talk.”
Braden smiled at her in return before firing a glare at me once we had space to ourselves. “What the fuck, Emily?”
“Braden, stop being dumb. See? I can use your name, too.”
He flattened his lips. “Charming.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be abrasive — even though I realize that is exactly what I’m being.”
“I would have said brat, but abrasive is close enough.”
I ignored the jab, focusing on the task at hand.
“I realize we come from different backgrounds, okay? You’ve mentioned that you help your family out and I’m the exact opposite.
It’s my parents footing most of my bills — especially on dancer wages.
But,” I continued, pointing at the car Braden was trying to buy.
“You don’t want that crappy Camry and you know it. ”
“I told you, I like the car fine.”
“Not as much as you like that Bronco.”
“Which I shouldn’t have test driven in the first place. I only did so to make you shut up.”
“There are much more fun ways to make me shut up, for the record.” I held up a finger with a teasing smile, but apparently this was not the moment to make sex jokes because Braden wasn’t having it.
I huffed. “Look, I know you want that Bronco. You lit up when you were behind the wheel. You were like a kid in a candy store with all the buttons inside it — probably because you’ve been driving a car that still had a cassette player in it. ”
“Hey, I liked that cassette player.”
“I’m being serious,” I said. “Get the Bronco. I know you want—”
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
The words rushed out of him, his chest heaving a little as he stared at me.
After a long moment, he cursed and ran a hand back through his hair, his gaze falling to the concrete between us. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just—”
“No, raise it,” I said, stepping into him. “Get mad. Get real. Tell me why you can’t buy the car you really want.”
“It’s ten-thousand dollars over my budget.”
“That’s a difference of like…” I did the quick math in my head. “A hundred and sixty bucks a month if you finance. And I bet you could offer cash and not have to finance at all. Come on. You can afford that.”
“Stop acting like you know me and my situation and what I can or can’t afford! Fuck, you’re pissing me off.”
“Good! You being angry is better than whatever apathetic emotion you’ve been trying to mask with all day. And you’re right. I don’t know you or the situation, so how about you fill me in. You had me in the therapy chair over my parents. How about—”
“My sister is sick.”
My mouth hung open where I’d been in the middle of being an asshole. It took me a solid minute before I shut it again.
“She has been for a long time,” he continued, taking his sunglasses off and hanging them from his shirt.
The day had turned from pleasantly warm and sunny to cloudy with a chill in the air — much like this conversation.
Braden’s warm, golden eyes landed on mine, and I felt like I was seeing through them for the first time. “She has AFM. Acute flaccid myelitis.”
There had been a soft breeze before, but the air felt too still now, like the world had stopped spinning with the words Braden had spoken.
It made sense. They’d stolen my breath, too.
“It hit her when she was eight. One day she had a fever, the next…” He shrugged a shoulder. “She woke up and couldn’t move most of her body.”
My chest tightened. “Fuck, Braden.”
He nodded, like he knew what I was saying without me even having to.
“She can still move her arms and hands a little,” he continued.
“Her feet and toes, too. But everything else… not really. She’s in a wheelchair or in bed most of the time.
She has a trach and uses a ventilator to help her breathe sometimes.
Mostly at night. She has a feeding tube for meals, uses a computer to talk. ”
He paused there, swallowing once before looking away toward the row of cars behind me.
“My parents take care of her most of the day, but it’s… a lot. So I pay for a full-time nurse to help them out. I bought them a house with my signing bonus and cover the taxes. Medical stuff insurance doesn’t cover. Whatever they need, really.”
The way he said it was almost numb, like he’d compartmentalized it so well it was just another fact of life.
But I caught the way his jaw tightened when he finished. It was like he wanted to break, to soften, to say that it wasn’t fair and he wished things were different, but that he’d never allow himself to speak those words out loud. He hardened himself, instead. He acted like it was all fine.
“The bull on my arm is for her. She’s the taurus,” he said softly, and then smiled a little. “Super into all that astrology stuff, even though I think it’s all ridiculous.” He paused, swallowing. “She’s the only thing in my life that means enough to me to get permanently inked.”
I closed my eyes on a long exhale, recalling the clean lines of his tattoo and how I’d assumed it was for his own sign.
“That’s why the ten grand matters,” he said quietly, finally meeting my eyes again. “That’s why I have a budget.”
I let the silence linger between us for a long moment. Here I was complaining to him about my angel of a mom and dad who pay for practically everything, and he’s actually lived through real shit.
I felt like a fool.
I also felt desperate to do what he’d done for me — to lighten his load, even if just a little.
The dealership noise carried on around us — doors slamming, a salesman laughing somewhere across the lot, a car engine revving — but it felt like we were standing in the center of a bubble where none of it could reach.
“That’s… a lot to carry,” I said softly.
Braden huffed a small laugh like he didn’t quite know what to do with that.
“They’re my family.”
“I know,” I said. “Which somehow makes it heavier.”
He didn’t argue with that.
Before I could overthink it, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.
There was no hesitation, and I didn’t stop to think if it might be crossing a line until it was too late, until I had my arms wrapped around him tight and had nuzzled my way in.
After a second, his arms came around me, tentative at first, then a little tighter.
He was so warm, and my body buzzed to life under his arms, heart skipping a bit the second my cheek brushed his chest. He smelled like lavender and mint, the scent intoxicating.
Braden went still — and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was thinking about our stupid contract, or because he wasn’t used to someone holding him up for once.
I held him there for a quiet moment before leaning back enough to look up at him.
“You’re a really good man, Braden,” I said.
He looked almost uncomfortable hearing it.
“Your sister and your parents are incredibly lucky to have you.”
“I’m just doing what anyone would.”
“I disagree,” I said plainly. “A lot of people wouldn’t.”
He shook his head like he didn’t believe that.
“So you take care of everyone,” I continued, reluctantly pulling out of the hug. I didn’t move far, though. “You make sure your parents are okay. Your sister is okay. You plan every dollar so they’re protected.”
“That’s the job.”
“Okay,” I said. “But when do you take care of you?”
He blinked at that.
“I mean it,” I said. “You told me earlier I was being too hard on myself about my life. Look at you now,” I added. “You’re doing the exact same thing.”
“This is different.”
“Is it?” I tilted my head. “You’re talking about ten-thousand dollars on a car you’re going to drive for the next ten years. A car that’s newer, safer, and has half the miles. Meanwhile you’re acting like buying it means your entire family will suddenly collapse into financial ruin.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you’re acting like.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again, assessing me.
“I’m not trying to be harsh,” I said, softer, because I realized I had a tendency to cross that line into tough love a little too easily. “I’m just trying to be real. Braden, your sister would want you to have the car you love.”
His expression softened a little.
“Your parents would, too,” I continued. “And it’s not selfish to choose the thing that makes you happy when you’ve spent your whole life choosing everyone else.”
I stepped back and pointed across the lot at the Bronco.
“So here’s my proposal,” I said, crossing my arms with a decisive nod. “Maybe we both try easing up a little.”
He followed my gaze to the car.
“Maybe this is step one.” I bumped his shoulder. “Buy the damn Bronco, Braden. You can afford it. And you deserve it.”
His throat constricted, Adam’s apple bobbing hard with his next swallow. “Why do I feel like I’m about to jump off a fucking bridge?”
I laughed. “Well, choosing yourself when you’re so used to putting yourself last can feel like that. Come on,” I said, linking my arm through his. “I’ll jump with you.”
His nostrils flared, and I would have sworn his eyes misted a little if he hadn’t put his sunglasses back on so quickly I couldn’t be sure. Before I could take a step toward the Bronco, Braden tugged me to wait.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “For listening.”
I nodded. “Thanks for listening to me, too.”
“I’m surprised you told me as much as you did,” he admitted as we started walking.
“That makes two of us. Don’t expect that to become a habit.”
“Back to sex jokes?”
“I was actually just going to make one about christening this sexy new car of yours… what do you think?” I nudged his shoulder. “Back seat, or should I ride you cowgirl style in the front?”
Braden shook his head, groaning a bit as he reached down to adjust himself in his shorts. “Pain in my fucking ass.”
“What? Embarrassed by how often you’ve had to hide your boner around me?”
“You won’t be laughing when I call you on it one day,” he said, arching a brow. “I bet all that talk would disappear the moment I slid my hand up your skirt. Bet I’d find you dripping before I even got you undressed.”
A muscle tightened low and hot in my belly at his words, at how they rumbled low and deliciously dirty out of that perfect mouth of his.
“I pray I see that day,” I shot back.
And I meant it.