Chapter Eighteen
ChapterEighteen
Brandt
I scroll through the photos of myself at the gala last night for Autism Awareness. Every picture of me is from a different angle from the part of the night where I was talking to the gorgeous Ana Ruszi, a top fashion model in Toronto. The slit along the side of her long black dress showcases one long, tanned leg, her neon yellow toenails peek out of her black open-toed heels, and her long, luscious chestnut curls flow over her shoulders and down her back. There’s no mistaking how gorgeous this woman is. Her eyes sparkle like diamonds in the flashes of the camera. My stomach grumbles, wondering what kind of fresh hell this is going to bring with Elissa.
I scroll through the articles on Google, each one stating my name in the headlines. I set up Google to alert me of any mentions of my name a long time ago. Once again, my name makes headlines being seen with another random “date” on my arm. There was no date, though. It just so happened we know each other from attending these functions over time and have chatted here and there. These photographers know how to take an innocent conversation and twist it.
A light rap on my door echoes down the hallway into my living room. I plant my feet on the ground and hoist myself off the black leather couch and make my way to the door. I shake my head, wondering why someone let a random person into the building without buzzing. Before I even look through the peephole or open the door, I feel a rush of electricity course through my veins. I know it’s Elissa before I even make another move. My lashes brush against the metal peephole in the door, and sure enough, my vision is filled with wild bronze hair tucked behind her ears. I slide the locking mechanism across and unlock the deadbolt, swing the door open, and see bright, but unsure, oceanic eyes staring at me.
Elissa’s lip rolls into her mouth, her teeth lightly scraping against the bottom lip, and I wish it was me sinking my teeth into her lip right now. My fingers itch to dig into her hair and hold onto those soft, copper locks, but I hold back. Things have been strained lately, and I know it’s my fault, but it’s my way of protecting my heart. I won’t be able to handle it if she breaks things off. I need to distance myself so that when she inevitably does, I’m okay. What I went through last summer…I can’t do that again.
She brushes past me, her vanilla scent overtaking my senses as a rush of blood runs south. I breathe her in, wishing I could bottle her scent up and keep it with me forever. My heart aches as the air in the apartment tenses and thickens, and my gut sinks at the vibrations in the atmosphere. This doesn’t feel like a friendly visit. She slips her feet out of her shoes, drops her purse on the table in the entryway, and hangs up her jacket, making herself comfortable. I yearn to wrap her up in my arms, pressing feverish kisses into her perfect creamy skin. My tongue runs along the back of my teeth, fighting the urge to kiss her. She walks further into my condo, tossing her hair over her shoulder to look over and see if I’m following her. I shuffle my feet and follow her to the living room.
She perches herself on the edge of the couch and waits for me to join her. I sit at the opposite end, my hands curling into fists in my lap, hiding the trembling. Copper curls cascade over her chest and shoulder, and I fight the need to brush them out of the way so I can see her neck. The vein in my neck pulses with need, with want, but my heart is beating rapidly and my palms are sweating. I pushed her away for this reason, yet I’m still dreading the conversation that’s coming.
“Hey,” she murmurs, her tone soft and delicate. “So, I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” I put my hand up and stop her from continuing.
“It’s all right, no need to say it. I know why you’re here. You should have been in Chatham visiting Lana, but you’re here, twenty-four hours later. You don’t need to explain. You said relationships weren’t for you.” Her face drains of blood, but shock is etched all over it.
“So, it’s over? Just like that?” I nod, looking away from her face, because if I don’t, I’ll beg her not to do this, and I can’t be that weak pussy. I can’t pour my heart out for someone who doesn’t want me the same. “Well, I guess the picture and headlines were right. You’ve decided to move on, without telling me.” I stiffen at the accusation, but I can’t find it in myself to deny anything. I’m breaking just listening to the lilt of her voice and what seems like…sadness.
She shifts on the couch, moving further to the edge, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t understand,” she says. “I know things were weird for a little bit, but…I didn’t expect this.”
“You didn’t expect what?”
“This. You. Acting like this.”
“Acting like what? Keeping my distance from someone who’s bound to leave me again after she’s already done it? And without warning, might I add.” Her perfect fuck-me lips part, words lost on her tongue. She looks away, her eyes glimmering in the light, making me wonder if I saw tears. Not likely.
“I knew things were weird the last few weeks, but I didn’t expect this. I thought it was just a…”
My face whips to face hers. “Thought it was just what?” Her eyes waver, looking between mine, and her lids flutter shut as she takes a deep breath.
“Never mind,” she mumbles. “Well, if this is what you want…” My blood boils. What I want? What I want is to throw this coffee table over, pull her to her feet, and shove my tongue down her throat. What I want is to throw her over my shoulder, take her to my room, toss her on the bed, crawl on top of her, and ram my dick into her, deep and hard. I want to rut into her like a voracious animal, starving from hunger, until I’m good and sated.
“What I want…that’s a joke,” I mutter, my tone sharper than I hoped. She winces at my words, then smooths her jeans and adjusts her blouse. I feel a bead of sweat form on my brow and roll down my temple as I hold back every muscle in my body from grabbing her and doing exactly what I want to do. She sighs, and she looks…broken. But I don’t know why. I’m the only one here who’s broken because of this. She’s the one who wants this. I knew it was only a matter of time, which is why I prepared myself.
She scrambles to her feet, pushing her hand across her cheeks and the hair out of her face.
“Well, then. I guess that’s it. I will see you at the board meeting next Monday.” She mutters something under her breath that sounds like “fuck.” “See you around, Brandt.” She bends down, pressing a light, chaste kiss to my cheek, and gives me one last look before collecting her things and walking out of my condo.
···
Rhys and I are at the gym, shoes squeaking on the court as we run toward the basket, dribbling the ball. Sweat is dripping down my face and pouring down my back as I push myself harder, sinking the next basket, dunking it over top of Rhys.
“Jesus, man. What is going on?”
“Elissa…broke up…with me,” I say between panting breaths.
“Fuck man, I’m sorry.” I nod my head, my hands locked on my hips as I force myself to take measured breaths. “What happened?” The muscles in my jaw and neck tense at the memories flashing through my mind of this morning’s conversation.
“She asked if this strain was it. I mean, I know I’ve been pushing her away, but it was only to protect myself because I knew this was coming. If she truly wanted me, she would have fought for it.”
“Did she ask about the photos from last night’s gala?” Rhys dribbles the ball while we stand idly. I shrug my shoulders and give him a sneer.
“Possibly. She didn’t really ask anything, but I didn’t offer up any explanations. Not my fault if she gets something from nothing.”
“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? Maybe she wanted you to say something. Maybe she was giving you space to say something so she didn’t have to accuse you of anything. God, you really suck at this relationship thing.”
My face grows red as my blood boils, prickling my skin. “Fuck off. Like you’re one to talk. You suck just as bad as me,” I growl. Rhys lets the ball drop and it gradually stops bouncing while he holds his hands up in the air, surrendering. “She did ask what I wanted, though. I guess I could have said something then.”
“Why don’t you go talk to her? But this time, actually talk? Get what you’re feeling off your chest. Who knows, maybe she feels the same as you?” I stay silent, letting the conversation die.
I’m done talking about this. I’ve fought for her, for us, already. It’s her turn, and she just walked away from us. I can’t be the one constantly chasing her, asking her to stay. Rhys’ eyes burn into me like a hot brand as I feel his concern burrow into my skin. I grab the basketball off the wooden floor and my shoes squeak as I run and dribble the ball. The ball is in her court, or was, and she let it drop.