30. Brenna
30
brENNA
Fourteen hours in a car is a long time. No matter how you cut it.
Especially while listening to show tunes.
Somewhere around the Alabama-Mississippi line, Mell and I finally convinced her mother to give up on Rodgers and Hammerstein and at least move on to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Sans Cats . We vetoed Cats pretty quickly. Silently, we held out hope that we would eventually make it to something like Rent or Wicked , knowing that Hamilton was probably completely out of the question.
Mrs. Quinn is a purist after all.
Two days here, a day to get Mell settled back into base housing, and I’m still just as unsure as I was when I called Mell asking if her offer to crash her road trip was legit. Knowing that I have two more days in the car back home with Mrs. Quinn is not helping me figure out anything. Neither is the sheer exhaustion that comes with a road trip that is about as last-minute as they come.
And essentially one giant hissy fit .
The cheap throw pillow crushes under me as I crash backward against the couch in Mell’s barren living room. Boxes are strewn everywhere, and it will take her at least a week to get through it all, but for now, the major, I-can’t-live-without-it stuff is unpacked. I don’t bother pulling the pillow out from behind me, instead opting to rearrange myself, trying to find a position that’s at least semicomfortable as I wallow.
Tapping my phone to life, I pull up social media, giving it a quick scroll. I’m not sure what I expect to find—something, anything that will take my mind off my own personal mess—but there isn’t anything waiting for me but the personal highlight reels of what seems to be my every acquaintance. Part of me feels like I should be joining in. Posting my big news about passing the NAPLEX and where I’m headed next.
And then I remember that I don’t know the latter part of that news. Because what had seemed like such a simple answer—all the things I wanted being handed to me on the silver platter as Mell put it—was turned upside down in an instant.
My phone buzzes in my hand, the little notification sliding down from the top of the screen catching me off guard. What I don’t know is if it’s the person texting me or the text itself that’s more confusing.
Willa
Checking in!
Those two little words hold so much weight it’s hard to measure. The nonchalance of her text, even more so.
“What?” Mell asks, crossing the room and parking herself next to me on the couch.
I tap over to the text and tilt my phone so she can see it. Mell leans in, pausing for a moment, blinking a couple of times as she reads it .
“Do you think she knows?”
I shrug. “Hard to say. I haven’t heard a single thing from Milo, so…”
“But he and Willa are as close and you and Brandt, so if something went down there, she’d know, right?”
I shrug again. It’s sound logic. Regardless, I’m not holding my breath that this is going to result in a “Milo misses you and wants to know when you’re going to be back” text. Even if that is what I’m secretly hoping for, as if this is the third grade and such a message would come from his sister.
Hi
How are you?
That funny-looking guy from Star Wars appears in the back of my mind, warning me that this is a trap. That somehow that one simple question—three little words—will come back to haunt me. Then I remember that this is Willa—the same woman who turned to me, panicked, in the Pour Decisions bathroom to verify if an antibiotic would make her period late. She is not trapping me by asking me how I’m doing.
I dunno
Totally fair. Been there.
Boys are dumb. Brothers are worse.
I nod, not knowing how else to reply. Not that she can see me. I can feel Mell’s eyes on me, watching and waiting for a response, so I tilt the phone to her so she can read the conversation.
So, what’s this I hear about you buying a drugstore? ;)
“Oh, she knows…” Mell giggles.
So it seems. I huff out a long breath, letting the information settle in. If Willa knows about the drugstore, then she knows about the fight, making me wonder if the rest of the town knows too. Last thing I wanted was to be fodder for the rumor mill.
“What do I say?”
Mell shrugs. “I dunno. What do you want to tell her?”
I think for a moment, lips quirked to the side, thumbs hovering over the screen. I know exactly what I want to tell her. All the things I’ve been afraid to share with anyone other than Mell out of fear of…I don’t even know. Judgment, I guess. Of not being understood.
But no more. I might be throwing a hissy fit in Texas, but I do have to put on the big girl panties eventually, and now is as good a time as ever.
Giving Mell a nod, I start typing as fast as I can, spilling my guts and telling Willa everything. Okay, not everything. But a lot. Big Box USA. The Well Nest. The option to take over Hickory Hills Drugs. Doc Galindo’s plea to be a health partner in Hickory Hills. My feelings for her brother. And how I’m not sure about any of it.
She listens, letting me rattle off text after text after text, finally coming back with one simple question.
Why not just have Hayes buy Hickory Hills Drugs to handle all the business stuff and then you can do the pharmacy part? I mean, if that’s all you care about
Would Hayes do that?
I don’t see why not. I mean, let’s not tempt Gus with a good time, talking acquisitions and all lol
I sputter out a laugh, unable to help it. The idea hadn’t occurred to me, and now that she says it out loud, it seems too simple. But also…wrong.
Think about it.
Think about it…
My thumbs flex, itching to type back that I will, but I can’t seem to make them move. Because somehow, after three days of sheer confusion and brain fog, it’s all perfectly clear. The future I see for myself has never been more in focus than it is in this moment.
The job. The town. The man.
The life I want for myself.
All of it.
“That’s a look,” Mell comments, glancing up from her phone. “What’s up?”
“I know. I know.”
“Know what?”
I don’t have to think. I know
Holding my breath, I let my lungs burn for a second as we drive past the center of town. There’s an energy already buzzing, palpable as soon as you hit the Knox County line, that grows the closer we get to Newton Field. Many of the decorations are already up for Rhythm and Brews, the town in full-on prep mode for the big event this weekend .
“You sure you want me to drop you at Newton and not Pour Decisions?” Mrs. Quinn asks as we round the town square. “Woulda thought you’d want to go home and crash.”
“Yeah,” I say with a nod, leaving it at that.
I love Mrs. Quinn; she’s like another mother to me. But she doesn’t need any additional details. She’s already more up to date than she should be, since she was driving as I word vomited to Mell about my fight with Brandt and my last-minute decision to join their trip to Texas. She even chimed in with her opinion here and there, which was to be expected. As was the extra “advice” she gave me on the way home since it was just her and me.
So no, she does not need to be brought up to speed on my plan now that we’re back in Hickory Hills.
Looking down at my phone, I click over to my texts, scrolling through my conversation with Willa once again, stopping at her most recent message from last night. I’ve read it about twenty times at this point and could probably recite it, but on the off chance it’s changed, I read it one more time.
Willa: Brandt will be at Newton all day setting up for R it’s an extra. We probably won’t need it, but it’s here on the off chance that—” Brandt spins, coming to an immediate halt as he sees me. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
He rushes toward me, closing the space between us in what feel like record time. Next thing I know his arms are around me, holding me against him tight, like I’m four years old all over again .
“I’m sorry, Bren. So, so sorry.”
I hug him back, tension releasing from me and into our embrace. Fuck, I missed him.
“For making it so I can’t breathe?” I quip.
“Oh, sorry.” He draws back, smiling from ear to ear. “Be right back, y’all!”
Slinging an arm around me, he leads me away from the courts. We dodge a large group of high school kids, and I sneak a glance at my phone, wondering if it’s late enough for them to be out of school already. When we make it to the well-worn track, we slow our pace, our shoes kicking up dust from the loop that is in much need of some TLC.
“I’m sorry.”
“You said that.”
“I mean it.” He looks at me, our eyes connecting, and I see it. My big brother.
The stupid, overprotective pain in the ass. My biggest cheerleader. The one who pushed me into applying to pharmacy school, even though I’d followed a longer than necessary route to get there. He who has always had my back, no matter what.
“I overreacted,” he continues.
“You think?”
Shooting me a look, he huffs out a breath and I chuckle, enjoying that we’ve found our footing again. “Not the way I would have preferred to find out about the two of you, and Brenna, it’s still weird to me, but…I respect that you’re an adult and can make your own choices.”
Hope swoops through me, filling into the cracks left by our fight last week. Brandt’s acceptance feels like nothing short of a miracle.
“Thank you. It means a lot. And trust me, that’s not the way I wanted you to find out.” I stop, letting out a sigh that I feel with every last inch of my body. “I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Sure you did,” he teases.
“I did, promise. Admittedly, I didn’t know how to tell you. Which is why when you asked about the picture, I didn’t come clean. This just didn’t seem like the kind of thing that you say over a text, you know? And the more I thought about it…I knew that I needed to tell you face-to-face. That I’d fallen for someone who treats me better than anyone I’ve ever met. And makes me feel special and smart and all sorts of other things. And yeah , at first it was a little weird because he’s older and he’s your best friend, but I kinda think that’s maybe part of what makes it so special. Because who better to love me than the best friend of my protector?”
I swallow hard, all my emotions rushing to the surface. As much as Brandt’s apology and acceptance mean, it’s all for nothing. Because just like I didn’t hear from Brandt, I didn’t hear from Milo.
And if my brother is standing here saying that he’s okay with it, and I still didn’t hear a peep, then there’s my answer. Willa’s reaching out was not the secret code I hoped it to be. I am not worth it to Milo. All the feelings were indeed one-sided.
Which sucks. No two ways about that.
“Well, when you put it that way,” Brandt says with a wry chuckle. “How can a big brother argue?”
“I’m not sure it really matters.” My voice cracks, betraying me. Concern flashes across Brandt’s face and he reaches out, resting his hand on my shoulder. “Milo didn’t call while I was gone. Clearly I’m not worth fighting for.”
“Up until yesterday, I had a black eye that says otherwise.” Squeezing my shoulder, he turns me to my left.
The lush open field is busy, filled with stage equipment and stations, looking a lot more chaotic than it did a few weeks ago for town movie night. All of that fades away though as my eyes land on the tall, scruffy, tattooed man walking toward us, trademark smirk on his face.
Milo.
Then Brandt’s words register.
“Wait, a black eye?”
He laughs. “Go talk it out with Loverboy over there. I’ll catch up with the two of you at dinner. I hear you have some news to share.”
I nod, unable to do much else. Brandt laughs again, giving me the shove I need toward his best friend.
My heart gallops, slamming into my rib cage. I fight the urge to run to him, partially because my feet feel like cinderblocks and moving them takes a massive effort, but also because I have no idea if he’ll catch me. That smirk says yes, but I’m still unsure.
“Hi, beautiful.”
Milo reaches around me, hauling me into him. Instinctively, I wind my arms around his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible. The whole world falls away as Milo tightens his grip on my hip, anticipation rising in me, waiting on his next move.
“You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now,” he mutters. His breath tickles my skin, alerting the butterflies in my tummy.
“Then why don’t you?”
“You’d be okay with that?”
“Always.”
Capturing my mouth in his, Milo kisses me in a way only he can. The perfect mix of deep and hard, with a gentleness that is pure perfection. The butterflies take flight, my knees weakening, as he deepens it more. I hold on for dear life, kissing him back the same way. I want him to know how much I missed him. How much I want him. That he’s the only one I want. And all those other feelings that come with it.
All those other things we’ve left unsaid.
Nothing else matters or exists as long as Milo is kissing me. I have no idea how long we stay like this—seconds, minutes, hours—but I don’t care either. We could be putting on a show for all of Hickory Hills and that would be the least of my worries. My only priority is making sure that Milo knows that he is my priority.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he says, breaking our kiss.
Pressing our foreheads together, he lets go of my hips, both of his hands sliding up my body to the nape of my neck, then into my hair, cradling my head. I close my eyes, sighing, inhaling his manly scent. One of the many things about him that feel like home.
“I missed you,” I say back, relief flooding through me. I relax into him, the last of the tension leaving me. “When I didn’t hear from you, I was worried that you didn’t think I was worth it.”
“Bren,”—Milo presses a soft kiss to my forehead, then leans back, looking me straight in the eye—“you are absolutely worth it. More than. But the note you left said not to call or text, and I was trying to respect your wishes and your space. Give you the time you needed to figure out what you needed to.”
“The note was for Brandt, not you.”
“Since you didn’t address the note to either one of us, we weren’t sure.”
Ohhhhhh…shit…
“You errrr…were just supposed to telepathically know?” I joke, hoping that it lands.
Milo laughs, and my heart soars, thankful he’s not mad. “Next time, let’s not count on my powers of telepathy, huh? Because I’m gonna be honest with you, they suck. Which is why you heard from Willa. I wanted nothing more than to call you, to tell you what you mean to me, make sure that you’re still mine…”
My heart leaps. My insides do an entire Olympic gymnastics floor routine out of excitement. Milo is still in this. Still wants me.
“I’m still yours. As long as you’re still mine.”
“As I see it, we didn’t actually break up.” He smirks again, and I swear, if he doesn’t stop, I might come right in this field. “So yes, I’m still yours.”
I grab hold of Milo’s neck, yanking him in for a kiss. One that I hope tells him all the things that are on the tip of my tongue. That I want to say out loud, but for some stupid reason am still holding back.
I need to not hold back.
“Milo,” I blurt out, my voice ragged from our kiss. “I lo?—”
I cut myself off, still unable to fully form the word. Fuck, I want to. So, so bad. So much I can taste it. I don’t know why I can’t. We’ve been saying it to each other for weeks in roundabout ways. But there’s something about those actual words that’s big and scary and getting in the way.
“Yeah?” Milo brushes a piece of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear, that damn smirk making another appearance. “Say it, Brenna. Say it.”
Those baby blues stare back at me, softer and more caring than ever. In them I see everything I’m feeling reflected back at me. And I melt.
“Need me to say it first, baby?” he whispers. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want you to think that I was using it as a way to manipulate you into staying in Hickory Hills, but there’s no doubt about the way I feel. I love you.”
As if God hit the pause button, everything around us freezes. All the setup, all the voices, everything. If I thought I felt this way before, I was wrong. So, so wrong.
“I love you, Milo. You’re my choice. Hickory Hills is my choice.” I pause, letting all the warm fuzzies surrounding me settle in. I want to remember this moment. “When I think about my future, you’re what I see. Us, in our hometown, running a brewery and a drugstore. Just two hometown kids, doing hometown things.”
For the first time this afternoon, Milo’s smirk disappears, replaced by a massive smile. One that belongs to me. Only me.
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“I might.”
We both laugh, and Milo takes my hand, rushing me toward the far part of the field, in the opposite direction of the tennis courts.
“Where are we going? Don’t you have to finish setting up?” I ask.
“Well…sure…but…” he answers, throwing open his truck door. He lifts me up, depositing me on the seat. “So, here’s the thing. We’re roommates with your brother now. And, as such, I made some concessions on places where PDA is and isn’t acceptable.”
“Okay…”
“Basically, I’m only allowed to touch you in my…our…bedroom.”
“What?”
Milo slams the door, hurrying around the hood and jumping in the driver’s side. “I figure what happens behind a locked bathroom door, stays there though, right?”
“I did not agree to any of this! What happened to respecting my choices as an adult?” I ask, all of the swoony, happy, sappy love feelings from a moment ago flying out the window. How did these two really decide this without me ?
“I’m sure there is room for negotiation,” he says, placing a hand on my thigh and sliding it up. Lust pools in my belly as his hand inches closer to where I want it, making it harder and harder to be upset with him. “But right now, we’ve got a couple of hours before dinner with him, for me to do whatever the hell I want to you, wherever I want. What d’ya say?”
I laugh, seeing exactly where he’s going with this. Well, that’s an easy answer.
“Drive fast.”