Chapter Five
ChapterFive
Brandt
I’m almost at Rhys’ place on this snowy Sunday afternoon. I was at home for a total of fifty minutes before Rhys called me, completely freaking out. So, after I showered and put on some clean clothes, I bundled up again and headed to his place. The last few days with Elissa have been fucking glorious. I’ve never felt so satisfied and fulfilled in my entire life. Finally, the piece that was missing has clicked into place. I finally have her, all of her.
When I get to Rhys’ place, I kick the snow off my boots on the brick wall of the building before entering. Rhys’ place is only a block and a half away from Elissa’s. It’s so tempting to go back there and stay in bed with her for the rest of the day. Hell, the rest of the week. I wrestle with my subconscious to stop myself from walking over there right now and just crawling into bed with her and making love.
I only need to knock once and Rhys has the door open, standing there in a sleeveless tee and basketball shorts, his choice of loungewear. His black hair is wild and sticking up everywhere. It looks like his hands have been pulling and tugging at it. His eyes are sunken, with dark circles staining the skin beneath them, and the stench of a distillery taints his breath. He’s a wreck, and I can only think of one reason: Riley.
“What’s going on? You look like shit,” I say, my large hand clasping at his shoulder. He shrugs off my hand and stares at me with dead eyes.
“Fuck you, man.” He shoots his words with poison. His face falls, and the wrinkles around his eyes soften. “Sorry, there’s just a lot on my mind right now.” I nod my head, but don’t press. He doesn’t know that I know what’s going on and I’m not about to tell him, either. If he wants to talk, he will.
I stalk over to the couch, passing Rhys, and drop into the cushions. He collapses face-down into the loveseat across from me, his arm thudding on the ground as his lungs push out a groan. Even his apartment smells like rot and decay. I open my mouth to tell him to pull himself together and clean his apartment, but he speaks first.
“Riley’s pregnant,” he moans into the couch’s velvety dark brown cushion. His head lifts off the couch, turns to face me, then slumps back down into the cushions. I tense. I’m not quite sure what to say, which probably works in my favour, seeing as I already know this tidbit of information, but have no idea how to play it off.
“Oh,” is what leaves my lips. Rhys groans again and buries his head further into the cushions. “What are you planning on doing?” I ask tentatively. His head pops up to face me again, his jaw clicking.
“I don’t fucking know, man. Like, how do I even know it’s mine? We’ve been broken up for almost three months. She’s probably slept with a bunch of people by now,” he growls. His fingers curl into a fist and it drags along the floor as he swings it, avoiding eye contact.
“You really think she’s been sleeping around? Dude, she was in fucking recovery. Grow a pair and own up to your fucking mistake. You were the stupid one who randomly hooked up with her without a rubber.” Rhys groans again, grumbling something under his breath that I can’t quite make out. “Stop being a pussy.”
“Well, I’m not doing anything without a paternity test.” My jaw hardens at Rhys’ inability to be a man and take responsibility. I knew my best friend could be a jerk and irresponsible sometimes, but I didn’t realize just how much of a jackass he really is. He’s the one worried about Riley sleeping around, as if he hasn’t been since they broke up?
“You’re pathetic, man. I think you’re just using a paternity test to hurt Riley. You’re fucking miserable without her, and you have been since you dumped her.”
He pushes himself up into a sitting position and plants his feet on the ground like he’s bracing for an attack.
“C’mon man, you expect me to think she hasn’t been sleeping around?” I stare at him. His face is blank and his eyes are vacant.
“You’re telling me that you weren’t sleeping around either? I find that hard to believe. Knowing you, you were burying your dick in some wet cunt the second you dumped her. We both know who you are.” Rhys’ face blanches, and he looks away from me, his jaw clenching so hard it makes his scalp shift. “Oh, and what about how far along she is? Doesn’t that line up with the fucking backslide you had with her?”
Rhys’ colour is bubbling under his skin until he finally bursts.
“I haven’t been with anyone since Riley, okay? No one. I still fucking love her, man. But I’m so unbelievably pissed at her still. And I can’t trust that it’s not my baby.” His shoulders drop as he slumps back into the couch, his head hitting the backrest. He shoves his hands through his messy black hair. We’re both basking in the silence for a moment when his eyes pop open, narrow, and he sits up straight, glaring at me. “How the fuck do you know all this? I didn’t mention how far along she was or about us hooking up at all.” His voice grows tense. I sigh, shrugging my shoulders.
“Elissa told me. We’re sort of…back together.”
His eyes widen, and his head drops down as he stares up at me under furrowed brows.
“When did this happen?” he grumbles. I look away, shrugging my shoulders again. “Brandt, when did this happen?” I heave a sigh.
“I guess around New Year’s.” I wait for the yelling or admonishment to come, but he says nothing. He stares at me with hard eyes and sighs.
“Well, good for you, man.” He’s silent and still for another moment before he propels himself off the couch and makes his way to the bathroom, then slams the door shut. Feeling the tense air only thicken more, I decide to leave, giving him time to cool down.
“I’ll leave now, man. Let me know if you wanna shoot some hoops later,” I shout at the closed door. Rhys makes a hmpf sound, and I hear the hot water screech on as I leave his apartment.
···
I’m looking down at my phone as I walk into my building and I bump into something, or rather, someone. They land on the ground with a thud and a feminine cry. Startled, I look away from my phone and peer down to see the top of a familiar blonde head sitting in front of me. I extend my hand, holding it out to help her up. Her hand slides into mine, her black nail polish shiny in the lobby light. Her fingers grip as I tug on her, lifting her off the ground. Lexi’s blue eyes find mine and her gaze softens.
“Hey, you,” she coos.
“Hey,” I say, a little colder than I mean to.
“I saw her the other day. Glad you two worked it out.”
“Thanks…” We stand in awkward silence when my mouth opens. “Sorry for…well, about everything. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know. And I appreciate the apology.” Her crimson-stained lips twist into a sad, soft smile. “Well, I better hurry up. I’m late for a date,” she says with a wink.
“Have a good night, Lexi. And good luck.”
“You too.”
···
When I’m finally in my apartment, I kick off my shoes, toss my coat on the hook, and stalk to the kitchen, swinging the door to the fridge open to grab a beer. The top pops off, and I toss it across the counter; it skids across the cool stone until it clunks into the sink. I take my beer and head to the couch, dropping into the cushions and grabbing the remote off the coffee table, switching on the Raptors game. I lean back into the couch and rest my feet on the table. And for a moment, everything feels right in the world.