Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
brANTLEY
Three and a half years ago, Whitmore University
“Fi, slow down! You’re going to dislocate my shoulder.”
Fi looks back at me and rolls her eyes, her steps slowing on the damp pavement.
“How are you so tiny, yet so strong?” I ask, rubbing my arm with a pout.
She laughs at my dramatics, and the sound warms my entire body. I want to bottle up that laugh and keep it forever.
“If we don’t hurry, we won’t get a good seat.”
“Fi, we’re looking at the northern lights. I think all the seats are good.”
“But the seats on the cemetery hill are the best.”
I glance up at the sky. “I can’t believe we got lucky with a clear night. We literally never get to see any of the good weather events in Washington.”
Fi smiles and snuggles against my arm, shivering. This is new for us, and I’m so scared this bubble will burst because of her insecurities and my overwhelming need to possess every inch of her. I can be a lot.
“Hey, Fi?” I ask casually.
“Hmm?”
“Trey said that you went to Vancouver with Charlie for a bit over the holiday. Is she doing okay?”
Fi sighs. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, she did get drunk, confess to her brothers that she’s broke, and then ran off after said confession like an adorable, inebriated idiot.”
I chuckle. “That sounds like Charlie. She’s introverted until the booze kicks in.”
“Tell me about it! I spent the whole night charming her brothers, and then she ruined the vibe.”
I give her a sideways look as a tendril of jealousy curls in my stomach, but she doesn’t notice.
“Then, I was so upset that she’d run off that Sebastian had to talk me down from calling the FBI.”
I laugh. “The FBI? Shouldn’t you start with the police?”
“No way; she was on her way to becoming the subject of a murder podcast, and we all know that the cops are useless in those scenarios.” She grips my arm tighter as we leave the road and walk through the wrought-iron gates into the graveyard.
“I was about to have a full-blown panic attack, so thank God Sebastian was with us. Hardly anyone has been able to talk me down, but he managed somehow.”
“He managed to what? What did he do?”
Fi seems to sense my tone and glances at me. “Brantley Michaels, are you jealous?”
“No,” I huff. “Why would I be jealous? Sebastian? I think I met him on campus with Charlie once. Tall, dark brown hair, bad case of resting bitchface?”
“I don’t know about resting bitchface. He was all smiles when we hung out.”
I grit my teeth, and Fi stops me. I look down at her face, all flawless pale skin and pink full lips in the moonlight.
“Nothing happened, if you’re worried,” she murmurs, giving me a mischievous smile.
The wind picks up and rustles the trees around us. Her auburn hair blows across her cheeks, and she pushes it behind her ears.
“I wasn’t worried.” My attempt at nonchalance fails miserably, and Fi steps closer, her lips hovering close to mine. She smells like gardenias and hot chocolate.
“Tell me what you want, B. I think I’m finally ready to listen.”
I swallow as her malachite eyes hold me still. “I want…” A crow caws above us, and I jump. “Fuck,” I say, flushing. “This is like a bad TV script. A fucking bird interrupted me.”
Fi giggles and leans forward, her soft lips brushing against mine. “Try again. Like you mean it, B.”
“I want you, okay?” I say quickly, stepping closer to her.
My voice deepens as I cup her cheek in a possessive grip.
“I make a lot of jokes, but right now, I’m dead serious.
I want you to be mine. Understand? I don’t want you to look at anyone else.
I don’t even want you to breathe in another guy’s direction.
I want to be the only one who touches you and fucks you.
And God, please say you want that too because I’m not sure I’ll survive if you don’t. ”
My chest heaves like I’ve been running, anxiety buzzing through my veins and vibrating across my skin. I’m waiting for the sharp stab of her rejection, and won’t it be ironic when I bleed out in this graveyard from a broken heart?
“Prove it,” she says, her voice husky.
“What?”
“Fuck me like you own me, B. Then promise me that we’re it. We’ll build a fucking life together after grad. I want this. My whole life I’ve wanted someone like you, B. Someone who accepts someone like me. I want us to be messy and real and ridiculously in love.”
The joy and lust that rush my limbs are overwhelming, and I push her against a nearby maple and kiss her, hard.
And when I pull back, we’re both panting, our eyes wide.
I give her a cocky grin and grind my hard cock against her center.
Then, I grab her hand, pulling her roughly toward the slope of the hill.
“C’mon, let’s get this romantic northern lights shit over with because I’m not sure how long I can last without fucking you senseless. ”
Fi giggles and stumbles after me, and I realize that I’ve never felt this fucking happy. Ever.
The car stops, and I’m jolted back to reality. Sebastian thanks Link’s driver as we get out on the curb in front of the theater. I stare down the street, a heavy feeling of loss still sitting in my gut from my earlier memory.
Fi sniffs, wipes her reddened eyes, and gives me a weak smile.
She’s scared.
We all are.
Bastian seems to sense our emotional turmoil and steps between us, his arm falling over Fi’s shoulders and his warm fingers linking with mine. I stare at our hands—almost the same size—and the ache in my chest eases a bit.
We walk to the side of the building, maneuvering around puddles. It’s still sprinkling.
“So what do you guys say to a movie night? Like we did in the cabin?” Bastian asks.
Fi nods thoughtfully. “I can read too. I brought The Sword of Shannara with us.”
“You did?” I say at the same time as Sebastian, and we glance at each other and grin. As silly as it sounds, we both agreed that Fi reading to us was our favorite pastime.
Fi steps up to the back door and starts to punch in a passcode, and that’s when I hear the scrape of footsteps behind us. Sebastian notices as well and turns quickly, pulling me and Fi slightly behind him.
But I recognize the figure approaching, and it’s not Dennis. The man has slicked-back sandy-blond hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and cold olive-green eyes that pin me with a disapproving glare.
“Hello, Brantley,” Ryan Michaels—my dad—says as he stops about six feet in front of us. He’s wearing an expensive three-piece suit and stands ramrod straight with one hand in his pocket—the poster child for rich assholes everywhere.
Bastian relaxes his stance, but he still eyes my dad warily. Fi is staring daggers at him, armed with the knowledge that he played a part in our breakup.
Even after all I’ve done to escape my dad’s orbit, he still manages to make me feel like a helpless little boy. I try to stand taller when I step toward him. “What’re you doing here, Dad? How the fuck did you even find me?”
He frowns as if I’ve disappointed him, which, let’s be honest, I probably have, big time. “You’re my son, Brantley. Do you really think I don’t know where you are at all times?”
“I’m not your son,” I spit. “I’m your property. I was a failed investment, right, Dad? You didn’t even visit me in the hospital after the accident.”
“I wasn’t about to reward you for your failure, but I did expect you to be back in the rink by now.
I suspect you would be if you weren’t distracted by whatever this is.
” He waves his hand at us, and then his eyes drop to my hand, which is still joined with Bastian’s.
I instinctively let go. “And now you’re with him too?
Guess you turned out to be a faggot after all. ”
The slur opens an old wound in my chest, and a locked-away memory floats to the surface: saying goodbye to Aiden. We stood in the woods to the side of his house while his parents loaded their belongings into the U-Haul. I can still feel his soft lips brushing mine.
It was my father’s fault he left. It was his fault that I hurt Fi. If Bastian leaves too…
I hate that my eyes flood with tears. How am I still so weak?
“Are you going to cry about it, Brantley?” The way he mocks me fills me with so much shame, but a spark of anger takes hold and I grasp at it.
I’m done letting him hurt me.
I take another step forward, but he lunges at me first. His fist connects with my cheek, and I fall back, pain exploding in my jaw. It’s much worse than when Sebastian hit me, and I land in a puddle, gritty water splashing onto my face and into my mouth.
“B!” Fi screams, dropping to my side. She cradles my cheek, her gentle fingers grazing my tender skin. Vertigo sours my stomach and my vision blurs.
My father’s unhinged laughter echoes in the parking lot. “Can’t even take a punch. I thought you were a hockey player. Pathetic.” He pulls a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wipes his knuckles. “I’ll call your trainer tomorrow, and we’ll get you back into shape.”
“Don’t you get it?” I scream, my voice breaking. “The puck damaged my larynx. I’ll never have the lung capacity to play pro again.”
He frowns as he stares down at me. “Nonsense. We just need a second opinion.” He folds the scrap of fabric and places it back in his pocket. “But enough distractions, do you hear me?” His stony gaze falls to Fi and Sebastian. “Honestly, I’m surprised you two are still around.”
What the fuck does that mean?
Fi and Seb exchange incredulous looks.
“Stop talking about them like that,” I growl. I wish my head would stop spinning so I could stand and actually hit this asshole.