Chapter 29 – Beau
BEAU
I ’ve never seen Brinley look so miserable.
Her eyes are bloodshot and glassy, her glasses askew.
Her face is red, blotchy, and streaks with the ghosts of tears.
She’s wearing a ratty old gym shirt she stole from me and a faded pair of pajama pants with little cups of coffee on them.
Her hair looks like it’s been through a literal hurricane that matches the emotional hurricane she must’ve survived.
It’s so good to see her face that I don’t even care. She looks fucking beautiful.
She stepped aside, letting me into the apartment. She’s not alone, of course. Eden’s sitting next to her in equally ratty pajamas, honey blonde hair piled precariously on her head. Eden looks quickly between my split lip and Brinley’s wracked face and puts two and two together.
“I should go,” she says, standing and grabbing a denim jacket. “I’ll go help Trevor at the Copper Cup, so I can give Brinley some time.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to change first?” Brinley asks.
“Nope! I’ll figure it out.” Eden squeezes Brinley’s shoulder, some unspoken communication passing between them. She breezes out, and the door clicks shut behind her.
Finally, Brinley and I are alone.
“So, they know,” she murmurs.
“I was going to tell Luke about us last night, after poker.” I shove my hands in my pockets, because I don’t know what to do with them otherwise.
“When I got there, they had already opened the PI report from Nate’s guy.
The report had everything—Peppermint, you and me, the whole thing.
Luke gave me a chance to deny it, and when I didn’t, he started punching. ”
Brinley frowns, looking more closely at my lip. “Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine. Luke’s knuckles split, too. I wasn’t fighting back as much, so I got away with just some bruises on mine.
” Even though she doesn’t ask, I know Brinley wants to know how Luke is.
No matter how much distance there is between them, she’s still his sister, and that means something to her.
“After the other guys pulled us apart, I gave Luke the basic summary of us. He knows you and I have been together for years. He knows we kept it from him.”
She bites her lip. “I figured.”
“The guys all know you’re Peppermint. They’re all fucking furious, except for James, for some reason. We can’t contain the information anymore. Your real identity is out there. Everyone’s going to know.”
“They already do,” she says in a small voice that makes me wince. Of course—I’m sure she’s been bombarded with plenty of emails and calls already, not just mine. I doubt there are any friendly ones in the bunch.
After a long, painfully quiet moment, she asks, “Why did you come here?”
I’m too tired for the pretty words or grand declarations she deserves. So I just say, “Because last time, I just stayed and watched. I’m not doing that again.”
I know just from the way she scrunches her mouth that she knows what I mean. I’m talking about Luke’s stupid prank. The night when I stood there and said “don’t be a dick” and nothing more. The night I chose the group over her.
Brinley sighs and sits back down on the couch. She grabs a throw pillow and holds it tight to her chest.
“You can tell me now,” she says quietly. “Tell me your side of the story from that night.”
I sit next to her, purposefully not touching her. My legs are long enough and the couch is small enough that I don’t have much room to spread out, but hey, this conversation is going to be uncomfortable enough. I might as well be, too.
“The day with your diary, I was hanging out at your house with the guys,” I start. “They teased me a little about you, how much you’d like to see me. I didn’t think anything of it, because they were always doing that after Never Have I Ever. They were jerks.”
I glance over at Brinley. Her cheeks are bright red as she stares down at the throw pillow. Even mentioning that night still gives her residual embarrassment. I hurry ahead.
“I left the hangout early to help my mom at the restaurant. I didn’t know they had anything planned for the night. I didn’t even realize that I forgot my phone, because I wasn’t allowed to use it in the restaurant kitchen.
“They found my phone, and Luke had the idea that they should text you, pretending to be me. I didn’t know about any of that until I got out of my shift.
I wasn’t sure where my phone was, but when I checked my laptop, the texts synced.
It was too late for me to stop them, so I drove over to the coffeeshop as fast as I could.
I figured that maybe I could get there before you did and warn you. Obviously, I didn’t make it in time.”
Tears well in Brinley’s eyes. She reaches under her glasses to thumb some away before they fall, and tenderness swells in my heart.
“When I walked in there and saw everyone, I just froze. I had no idea what to say or what to do. Not because I didn’t care about you, but because I was eighteen and terrified.
My friends were my whole world, and I couldn’t figure out how to save you without losing them.
So I said the stupidest, most half-assed thing I’ve ever said in my life.
‘Don’t be a dick.’ It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t close to enough. ”
Brinley’s crying now, hard, silent sobs that come from deep in her chest. It’s like all the pain she packed in there over the past decade finally cracked open, releasing a toxic well of anguish. It’s not the kind of crying that can be assuaged by a hug or a few kind words.
“I should have crossed the room,” I rasp. “I should have taken the diary out of Luke’s hands. I should have walked out with you. I didn’t. And I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since, and I know that’s not the same thing as having done it right the first time.”
Her face glistens with tears. They catch in the light like little sundrops, and I wish I could wipe them away. I know I can’t touch her yet, not until I’m invited. I clasp my hands and wait. I’ll wait forever if that’s what she needs.
Instead, she slides one small hand into the cracks of mine, filling it. “You didn’t know,” she whispers. “You weren’t part of planning it.”
I squeeze her hand tight. “I didn’t know. It doesn’t make up for everything, but I didn’t plan it. I didn’t want any of it to happen. Even then, your pain would have been like acid for me. Too painful to touch.”
Then she’s in my lap, straddling me, her arms around my neck while her face buries against my shoulder. Her snot and tears bleed into my hoodie, her trembling limbs holding on like I’m a lifesaver in a storm. I let her pain leech into me, wishing I could absorb more.
At least now she knows. She can hate me for failing to defend her, but at least she knows I never betrayed her.
The sun moves behind a cloud, softening the light from the windows. Brinley lifts her head to look into my eyes. It’s almost like she’s trying to burrow inside me, until she knows she’s safe. I hold her face in my hands and silently promise her that from now on, I’ll protect her.
I don’t ask her to say I love you . She doesn’t offer it.
She just lets her lips glide against mine in a soft sweep. Our breaths mingle, and a loose strand of hair falls onto my hand. I brush it behind her ear. My thumb drops to her pulse point, where I can feel her heartbeat resonating through me. She feels so small and delicate, so easy to hurt.
Her mouth opens for me, inviting me in. A moment of trust. I’ve kissed her a thousand times before, but she’s never been this soft with me, letting me lead.
It’s like her walls have finally come down, exposing all her raw, vulnerable parts.
To show her I deserve that trust, I touch her as gently as I possibly can.
I wrap one arm around her lower back to support her, my hand spanning across the opposite hip. My tongue and lips explore hers softly while my other hand strokes the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck.
Brinley lets out a little moan, and I wish I could save that sound in my memory like a computer file so I could play it whenever I want.
She pulls away first, setting her forehead against mine. “Do you want to unplug for a bit with me? I want to be far away from my phone right now.”
I grin. “I would love nothing more.”
I grab her phone off the coffee table and shove it under a couch cushion. Then, sweeping Brinley into my arms, I carry her into the bedroom and plop her on the bed. She bounces and giggles when she lands.
“Load up something to watch on your laptop,” I order her. “I’m making you breakfast.”
Her lip sticks out. “You’re not going to spend an hour in there making something stupid and fancy, are you?”
“Normally, yes. Today, I’ll just toast some of your Pop-Tarts.”
Her lips curl up the smallest bit. She’s listened to enough of my rants about how Pop-Tarts are just cardboard pieces pretending to be pastries. The fact that I’m making some for her, unasked, is enough to cheer her up.
Once I get back, Brinley has Gilmore Girls cued up on her laptop.
It’s one of her top comfort shows, one I reluctantly started enjoying after years of having it play in the background.
I sit with my back against the wall and Brinley sits between my legs, the laptop in front of us.
Even though she only nibbles around the edges of her Pop-Tarts, I’m still glad to see her eat something.
Maybe it’s just my Italian side, but it’s my personal belief that nothing can get better until somebody starts eating.
It’s not long before my eyelids start getting heavy. I spent all last night tossing and turning. Now, with Brinley settled against me, my body finally gives up the fight for consciousness. I drift off to sleep.
It feels like we spend the rest of the day alternating naps, like we’re keeping watch to make sure nobody sneaks up while we’re sleeping.
I fetch us the disgusting premade food from Brinley’s kitchen.
Whatever villain invented “Easy Mac” needs to be shot into the sun.
Eden must come home at some point, but I don’t hear her.
The next thing I know, it’s morning. Brinley’s in my arms in her bed. For the first time, I’ve slept over at her place.
I know that later, we’ll have to face the Peppermint backlash, but for now, for this one quiet moment, it feels like the beginning of something instead of the end.