Chapter Nine
REILLY
SITTING in the passenger side of Bray’s car is unnerving. I can smell him everywhere. He’s so close I could easily reach over and touch him. Boy, do I want to touch him, all over. I want to slide my hands, my tongue, all over the grooves of his body.
As much as I want to touch him, kiss him and do much more dirtier things to him and with him, I can’t.
At least not right now. I need to figure out how I am going to get to the cemetery to visit with Dylan.
I could get an Uber after I get Bray to drop me home, but that will not leave me with any time to get ready for that stupid double date tonight.
Bray reaches over and grabs hold of my hand. Momentarily, I consider shaking his hold off and removing my hand from his. As I’m staring down at our joined hands, contemplating the mixed feelings I am fighting at the moment, Bray’s voice breaks through my fog.
“Babe, I can hear you thinking. What’s wrong?” he questions. How is he so intuitive to my mind? I’m leaning more and more towards some kind of witchery shit going on. I’ve never met a guy who can read me so well, other than my dad.
I debate what to tell him. Can I ask him to drop me at the cemetery?
Then I will have to answer all the usual questions and tell him about Dylan.
I’m not sure I’m ready for that conversation.
The other option is pulling out of this double date with Holly and letting her down, which I just can’t do.
She hardly ever dates so it’s a big deal for her to put herself out there, even if I think the guy is a douchebag. I don’t have to like him.
“Do you think you can drop me at the cemetery? I have to do something there. I’ll get Holly to come and pick me up from there.” I ask him so fast that I don’t even know if it’s possible to understand the gibberish that just came out of my mouth.
He squeezes my hand; it’s so comforting and reassuring and foreign. I should not be comforted by him. I should not want to be comforted by him, yet I do.
“Sure, which cemetery do you need to go to?” he asks. “Uh, the Rockwood one?” Why that came out as a
question, I have no freaking idea. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yep, I’m sure. The Rockwood. Thank you.” “No problem.” He leaves it at that.
I don’t get it. Where is the barrage of questions? The why do you want to go there? And the who died? Or the usual awkward silences and the I’m sorry when people find out I had a brother who died way too young.
But Bray didn’t even show any kind of emotion or questioning when I asked about going to the cemetery. It’s as if I asked him to drive through McDonald’s for a Big Mac.
“Why are you not asking questions about why I’m going to the cemetery?” I blurt out. Way to play it cool, Reilly.
Bray looks over and seems to study my face for what feels like forever.
“Do you want me to question you about it?”
“No, I don’t. It’s just weird. Most people ask me why I visit the cemetery.” I try to explain my weirdness.
“Well, I’m not most people, babe. You and I both know I’m better than the rest.” He winks at me.
I laugh. I love that he can make me feel that little bit less awkward and self-conscious by just being his usual silly self. I know he does it on purpose—there is a lot more depth to Bray than the pretty face and cocky attitude he lets everyone else see.
“Look, if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. If not, I’ll wait until you do,” he tells me, and a heap more bricks tumble to the ground from around my heart. Damn him and his near perfectness.
Bray turns the car off after pulling into the cemetery. He jumps out and walks around to my door, opening it before I even get my bearings together.
“Thanks for the lift. I appreciate it. I guess I’ll see you tonight?” I ask.
“Babe, if you think for a second, I’m leaving you here you’re crazier than Harley Quinn. You go do what you have to do. I’ll wait here,” he says as he leans against his car.
“You don’t need to do that. Holly will come and get me. It’s fine,” I argue.
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. I’m not leaving, even if you call Holly. I will be waiting right here for you, Reilly.”
Man, he is persistent. I don’t even know how to argue with that. “Well, it’s just I don’t know how long I will be,” I tell him honestly; I have a lot to fill Dylan in on from the past month.
“Doesn’t matter, take your time. I have some emails and calls to make anyway.” He leans in and kisses me gently on the lips, sealing the deal. Okay, I guess he’s waiting for me.
I spend a bit of time pulling out weeds that have grown around Dylan’s headstone since my last visit. Then I make myself comfortable and sit, leaning up against the headstone, and tell my brother all about what’s been happening.
I tell him about Alyssa meeting Zac, I tell him about my new job, about Mum and Holly, and about the visit I just had with Dad. I know I’ve been sitting here a while but there is one more person I need to tell him about. I lean back and close my eyes; I can see his face when I close my eyes.
I think I met someone, Dyl. You’d like him, I’m sure.
His name’s Bray, and he’s hot, smoking hot.
Not that you want to know that. I don’t know how to let him in though.
I’m struggling. I want to let him in. I want to say fuck it and let go of all my baggage and issues and give this thing with him a red-hot go.
I’m just scared. I’m so fucking scared, Dylan.
I’m scared of the possibilities, of him being taken away just like you and Daddy were.
I’m scared that I’ll end up more invested than he is.
I’m scared he will wake up and see how messed up I am and how much better than me he can do.
What if I let go and let him into my heart, only for him to crush it?
I don’t know if I can take that chance of being hurt like that.
I’m not strong like Mum and Holly. Dad thinks I should give him a shot. Can you believe that? Dad. Our dad knows Bray is an underground cage fighter and he told me to give the guy a chance. It’s very possible Dad’s reaching that age we used to joke about, where he starts to lose his mind.
I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I could really use your wisdom right now; you always were the smarter and wiser sibling. I haven’t told Mum or Holly about how I’m feeling, although Holly probably knows—she always bloody knows.
What the hell do I do, Dylan? I need you to give me a sign or something. Is this the person I’m meant to let break down my walls? Because it might be too late if he’s not; those walls are crumbling down faster than I can rebuild them.
I open my eyes and sit up straighter. My eyes land on the man in question.
He’s still standing, leaning against his car and staring straight at me.
Great, he probably thinks I’m fucking looney for sure now.
He’s just watched me talk to myself for the last thirty minutes.
He’s still there though, that has to mean something.
I look up to the sky. Please tell me this is your sign, Dylan, I whisper before standing and dusting off my dress.
I make my way back to the car, back to Bray.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me. As soon as I reach him, he grabs me and pulls me in tight.
His hugs are something else. I can’t help but melt into him, returning his hug.
I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head into his chest. I let myself have this moment; I embrace the comfort that he offers me in this hug.
Bray runs his hands through my hair and kisses me on the forehead. Why does that feel so nice? It’s odd, almost nurturing. But I’ll take it.
“You good?” he asks as he pulls back from our hug.
Well, I was good when your arms were wrapped around me, I think to myself. No way in hell I’m telling him that though. Instead, I nod my head, not trusting myself to speak.
“Let’s go then. I’m going to stop by my place and shower real quick then take you to yours. I’ll wait while you get ready for our hot date tonight.” He waggles his eyebrows up and down.
“Not a hot date. I was roped into this, remember. Also, don’t let your expectations of how fun it will be tonight run wild. You have not met Holly’s date and trust me, double dating with Holl is usually anything but fun,” I warn him.
“Well, it’ll be fun because I’ll be going on my first official date with my new hot as fuck girlfriend.” Bray smirks.
“Not a date and still not your girlfriend, Bray,” I inform him.
“Sure you are, you just don’t want to say it out loud yet.” He’s so bloody confident, although if I looked like him, I probably would be too. I can’t help but smile at him. “You should make it easier on yourself and just admit it already. It’s fate, babe. Brielly is happening.”
“I’m not sure I believe in fate. I think people make their own paths in life by their own choices.” I’m almost one hundred percent certain I don’t believe in fate.
“Well, damn, babe, way to be a pessimist. Don’t you worry your pretty little head though. I’ve got enough faith in our fate for the both of us.”
Why did my heart have to go and get all mushy over this guy? Why not just a quiet guy who didn’t challenge me? Because you’d be bored as hell, Reilly, that little devil in my head tells me. She’s right I would be bored. Also, Bray sure is real pretty to look at.
I look him up and down. The man is fine; it’s unfair how bloody good looking those family genes are. His strong chiselled jaw, those green eyes that draw me in and hold me captivated, and don’t even get me started on his body.
As perfect as his exterior package is, it’s what’s on the inside that I’m in trouble of getting attached to. His damn personality is making me want to give in and give this steady relationship thing a go.