Chapter 20 Rush
RUSH
I’ve been to Brett’s—and Nora’s—plenty of times for various things. Parties, holidays, game nights. But today as I pull up to the driveway, I realize how ominous and overbearing the house looks, and Brett’s not even in it.
I sit there for a moment in my Escalade, looking at the stark black roof from inside my car. Nora sits beside me, her gaze fixated on the house, and she breathes slowly.
“Can’t believe a week ago, I was just…here. Happily living my life with Brett, preparing to be engaged.”
I turn to look at her, her long lashes standing out in the golden-hour light. Even now, in this car, hair pulled back and eyes glued to the large, modern house, she looks stunning.
Like something out of a fairy tale.
Like a princess.
“Engaged?” The word settles on me. It’s the first I’ve heard her talk about this, given the last couple times we’ve interacted we didn’t really talk at all.
The fact makes me feel sort of guilty.
“Yeah,” she says calmly. “It…it was our anniversary. One year. I thought, you know…we’d been together a while, and I was living here and it seemed like…” She sighs. “I just thought things would be different, that’s all.”
She opens the door and gets out, and I see the tension in her shoulders.
I grab my keys and get out of the car, hurrying to follow her.
She picks her keys out of her side purse, and I note how her hand shakes.
I grasp the keys, my fingers grazing over hers as I do so.
She gives them to me easily. Too easily.
“I got it,” I say as I unlock the front door and let us both inside.
The house is dark, the air cold. It feels different, and I think that’s because Nora’s not a part of it anymore. Even though there are still pieces of her here—a pink blanket strewn over the couch or the flowery centerpiece in the kitchen—it no longer has her warmth.
She disappears down the hallway, to their bedroom, and I follow her. I can see the way she holds herself, the way her body shakes as she stops at the door.
“Hey,” I whisper. “It’s okay, you don’t have to go in there.”
She looks at the bed, and my heart aches, because I know what she must be thinking. What she must be remembering. I don’t think twice, I just place my hand at the small of her back and lightly rub.
“If you tell me what you need and where I can find it, I’ll do it.”
She turns in the space of the doorway, flashing those eyelashes up at me. Her bright blue eyes are watery, like the tears are already festering, begging to be freed. The doorway isn’t huge, and the two of us barely fit. But neither of us move.
“My suitcase and duffel,” she says.
“Alright, I’ll get those, and you can get your clothes, okay?”
She nods, and I gently nudge her into the room.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right here. You just show me where the stuff is and I’ll get it, okay? Then you can wait in the hall if you want.”
Her gaze drifts to my mouth.
“You must think I’m an idiot,” she says as she turns the light on and steps into the room.
I glance at the bed in the center of the room, perfectly made. The comforter and duvet are pulled so tight, I swear you could bounce a quarter off of it. But that was always Brett. Everything needed to be perfect, or it wasn’t worth it at all.
But the thing no one realizes, maybe except my brothers and my parents to an extent—is that Brett craves the order and control because he likes to break it.
And no one can break it but him.
She said she came home to find him cheating on her. And in her drunken state she asked if it was because she wasn’t skinny enough or pretty enough. That kind of self-doubt comes from the message being delivered to you, usually by people close to you. People you trust.
The fact that my brother might’ve planted those seeds, made Nora—the perfect woman—doubt herself, and then went behind her back and fucked someone else…
It really is a good thing he’s on a plane to God knows wherever. Because the more I think about it, the more pissed I am.
Not just on Nora’s behalf, but on our behalf too.
His choices could affect us—he’s a big enough player on his own, and if word gets out, it’ll trickle down. When that happens, if that happens, it’ll hit our parents first.
I might be able to deal with the brunt of whatever Brett’s stupid decisions are, and Freddie too, but…my parents, Tommy…they don’t deserve to take the heat or be whispered about because Brett’s an idiot.
I force myself to look away as Nora opens the closet and points to the top shelf.
“Up there. I’ve got a couple suitcases and duffels. Should be enough to pack up my clothes and shoes and—” Her voice shakes as I pull down a suitcase. And then another.
“Hey.” I look at her. “I told you, just show me and I got it from here. You can wait in the—”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m good.”
“You sure?” I ask as I pull down two duffels.
She starts pulling hangers of clothes down, piling them in her hands. “Mhmm. It’s just…kind of quiet and somber, you know?” She bites her lip. “Makes me feel like a failure.”
“Hey.” I grab the clothes from her arms and a suitcase as I look at her. “You are not a failure, Nora, and I never want to hear you say that again,” I tell her sternly.
Her lips part as she looks at me with surprise.
“I don’t know what kind of bullshit my brother was feeding you, but you are amazing. You are smart, and talented, and so fucking beautiful…”
I have to walk away and throw the clothes on the bed, emotion clouding my thoughts.
She comes to stand beside me with more clothes and sets to taking them off the hangers as I unzip the suitcase.
“Then why did he cheat on me?” she asks, her voice small. “If I’m so perfect, why didn’t he want to marry me? Have a baby?”
I stop at her words.
“You wanted…a baby?” I swallow hard, since it’s the first time I’m hearing this. Not just from Nora, but…
My mother’s been on Brett’s ass for the last three years, since he hit thirty—that he needs to settle down and start building a family. My dad—ever the hockey enthusiast—has said more often than not that his career with the NHL won’t last forever, and he needs to put down roots.
And honestly, when he brought Nora home, I thought he had finally taken them seriously.
But then…
Nora’s hands grasp a shirt, and she stares at it like it’s a damn crystal ball, her red locks falling over her shoulder as she stills.
“I do. Did. I mean…I want to be a mother someday, I just thought maybe I’d found the right person, but…”
Her fingers grace over the collar. She smoothes it out, her shoulders sinking.
“Brett told me he wanted to use condoms so I wouldn’t get pregnant before we moved in together. Then when I moved in, he didn’t want me to get pregnant before we got engaged.”
“So you thought he was going to propose to you…”
She sniffles, and I realize she’s crying.
“Yeah.” She folds the shirt and tosses it in the luggage.
“You want to know the worst part?” she whispers. I fold a shirt as she folds a dress and sets it aside. Our hands work fast as a team, and the suitcase starts to fill.
“What?” I ask, morbidly curious. I shouldn’t be hearing any of this, really, but also if Nora wants to tell me, I feel this deep-seated desire to listen. To be more than just the guy you call for a good time.
I want to be the guy she can rely on. The one who swoops in and saves the day for once. I want to be Nora’s hero.
“I thought it just meant he loved me. I believed him. And then I found him with that other woman…fucking her without a condom.”
She moves to turn away, and I see the tears stream down her face. Memories of the other night push forth, and the words resonate. Hearing it drunk is one thing, but sober?
“That fucking bastard,” I hiss, throwing the shirt into the suitcase. “Nora, I am so fucking sorry, baby.” I move toward her. She moves back only a bit, her gaze turning to mine.
“And then I sent him that picture…” She lets out a heavy sigh. “And he thought I was apologizing.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I grab her by the waist, bringing her toward me. “He doesn’t deserve it,” I say, and the words are solid. Clear as a bell. “Any of it.” I hold her gaze with mine.
“Russ…” she breathes. My name. Not my nickname that everyone calls me, but my name. I like how it sounds on her tongue way too much.
“He doesn’t deserve you or your baby,” I tell her.
She shakes her head, and I grab her by the throat, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes glisten as she sucks in a breath. She falls back against the edge of the bed from the motion, her legs parting just the slightest so I fall between them.
My cock strains in my pants, and I know I’m dancing on glass here. With her. This situation. The ache in my heart and my dick.
Because how dare he treat her like this.
He should be worshipping the ground she walks on, not having his cake and eating it too. Because I know that’s exactly what Brett thought he was going to do.
Maybe he would have proposed. Gone through with it and married her even, but he’d never give her the life she wanted.
He’d only be pretending, while he traveled and fucked off behind her back, dumping his cum into everyone but the woman who would have loved him and provided him such a perfect, beautiful life.
The kind of life my dad offered him and his mother, but which he never took.
“And you think you know what I deserve?” she says, her voice a whisper. The sunlight is dimming outside, casting everything in the room, including us, in an amber glow.
Her hands on my hips move slightly up over my abdomen. She doesn’t push me away, though she should.
I’m so out of my element here. This is territory I’ve never waded into. Because this feeling, deep inside me, this pain in my chest…it’s more than desire or attraction.
It’s love.
I know that, even though it makes no sense. But I can’t deny the way I feel.
I can’t deny her.