Chapter Twenty-One
When I walk through my front door, I’m met by an empty room instead of Brent’s bare chest, something I realize I’m missing much more than I should be. I should be happy. I’ve come out of my shell, but how can I be when I know that Brent is the reason for that?
Why did I think things would go differently?
I was hoping for too much, so it’s only my fault that I got heartbroken when I approached his suite. Even though I couldn’t catch a flight until the following morning, I chose to go to a different hotel for the night and let Mallory have our suite to herself – I’ll admit, it was because I knew Brent would attempt to come to talk to me and there was no way I could deal with that.
It also didn’t help that Mallory was trying to choose between two sides, and I didn’t want to make her do that, so I left. After a few days of flying and layovers, I thought being at home would feel amazing. It doesn’t; all it shows is how alone I truly am in terms of my love life.
I drop my suitcase onto the floor, curl up on the couch, and stare at the dark screen of my TV, thoughts running through my mind.
What’s Brent doing right now?
As if I’ll find out, I grab my phone and go to Instagram only to come up empty. The only thing I can find is the image that circulated with the two of us, still filled with rude comments, but it’s the nicer ones that catch my attention. There are a few people talking about how good we look together and how proud they are that Brent found someone perfect for him.
It’s funny when fans say things like that because they don’t know more than what the media allows about someone, yet they think they know Brent’s entire life story. They have no idea who the real Brent is, not like I do.
He’s sweet and caring, always there to stick up for you when it’s needed. The night he ran me a bath and listened to me about Mallory showed me he’s a good listener as well. All these fans see is that he moves from woman to woman, taking whoever he flirts with home to his bed, but that’s not his true character.
The botanical garden? He knew that I would want to go somewhere like that and listen to the rich history of the place, and he had no issue taking me there.
With my thoughts running all over the place, I lift from the couch and head into the kitchen to put water into my tea kettle. A nice hot cup of chamomile tea should do the trick and get me relaxed enough to rest. While the water gets heated on the stove, I go to my fridge and pull the door open to see if there’s something small to eat inside.
I scrunch my nose at the smell coming from inside and snatch the packages of lunch meat thrown haphazardly on the second shelf. Would’ve been a good idea if I made sure to throw some stuff out before leaving. This is probably a hint at what my life is going to be like from now on – trash.
At least, that’s what it feels like it’s going to be like.
Now that the stench of my moldy lunch meat has hit my nostrils, the idea of food doesn’t seem as appealing as it did before. I shake my head and lean against the counter, my eyes locked on the tea kettle that has steam slowly starting to billow out of it.
It only takes a few more minutes for the kettle to start whistling, so I reach into the cabinet above the counter and next to the fridge for a mug. There’s a jar of honey sitting on top of the stove, only a small amount left inside, and I pour what’s left into the steaming cup before heading into my room with hopes of getting the rest I’m desperately in need of.
Except, every time I close my eyes in an attempt to sleep, I imagine Brent lying behind me with his arm draped over my waist and kissing the spot behind my ear as his way of saying goodnight. I wish I could feel the safety of his arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me tucked into his chest, and the gentle thump of his heartbeat as he falls into a deep sleep. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine his warm breath brushing against my air as he breathes in and out.
All it takes is a few sips of the scolding tea, ten minutes of leaning against the headboard, and my mind becomes less frantic – which is a huge relief. With the chamomile tea flooding through me, I let silent tears fall down my cheek as I lift my large quilt over my frame and curl under its warmth. It’s as I do this that my eyes finally become too heavy with sleep, and I fall into darkness.
A loud noise has me jolting upright in my bed and darting my gaze around, my vision blurring under the blinding light hanging above my bed. I squint against it until everything clears, and then I throw my legs over the side of the bed with a sigh. My mug of tea is still sitting on my nightstand where I left it before I fell asleep, so I grab it and stumble out of my room.
I come to a stop in the middle of the hallway when I notice a shadow move along the living room wall, then swing my hands around until it lands on something hard without looking down to see what it is. As slowly as possible, I inch further down the hall and peer around the corner to see if I can catch sight of whoever it is – unfortunately, all I can see is the back of their head.
With a deep breath, I tighten my grip on my unknown weapon and dart around the corner. “Get out of my house!”
“Down, girl,” Mallory says with a chuckle.
“Mal?” I ask, then shake my head. “You shouldn’t be back yet.”
She scoffs and leans against the counter, her hands gripping the edge of it with amusement shining in her eyes. “What, you thought I’d stay there without you?” Mallory looks at her hands and picks nervously along her acrylic nails. “Plus, I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Clearly,” she says, her eyes darting to the object in my hand as she tries to hide a smirk. “You aren’t. What the hell did you think you were going to do with that?
For the first time since I left the resort, I laugh until I can hardly breathe and let the umbrella fall to the floor. “Honestly?” I wheeze. “Not entirely sure, but it seemed like the best idea at the moment.”
We laugh for a few minutes, then catch our breath, and I clear my throat. “I’m great, by the way.” I walk over to her and bump into her side with a frown. “You didn’t have to come back.”
“It would’ve been boring without you there anyway,” she says. “Have you talked to Brent?”
My heart freezes in my chest, and I can’t get a single sliver of air into my lungs, so I simply shake my head while trying to fight the tears threatening to escape. The last thing I need is to be crying over her brother while she’s sitting right here. It was my fault for thinking he felt more for me than he truly did. My head grows heavy, and I finally suck in a lungful of air, then wait until I’ve got my breathing under control before asking, “Is there a reason why I should’ve?”
As far as I know, the band is about to start their tour soon, and I’m sure my drama is the last thing he wants to worry about. I’m glad he hasn’t tried contacting me; it’s best for both of us. He helped me in more ways than one, which is why I made the rash decision after boarding my plane to create a profile on some dating app.
Brent helped me become less awkward, so I’m hopeful that tomorrow night’s date will go smoothly and that he’ll be out of mind in no time.
Mallory coughs, then shakes her head with a sad smile even though her eyes are glimmering brightly. “Nope, just curious.”
She’s got something on her mind, but I don’t have the energy to ask what. It’s time to get all thoughts of Brent out of here and move on to the next best thing if there’s even such a thing. “I’ve got a date,” I blurt, my cheeks heating at the admission. Mallory stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head and I sigh. “I made a profile on a dating app, and someone matched with me. Figured I could take my shot, you know?”
“A date?” She asks, and I nod slowly. “So soon?”
It hurts that I’m trying to get Brent out of my system, but it’s the best course of action for me. “I need to get myself out there, and Brent really helped with doing that in St. Croix. I’m ready.” What I’m ready for is to find someone who blows Brent out of the water and I’ll never have to worry about crying myself to sleep over him again.
Wishful thinking, I know, but I don’t know how else to move on with my life.
Do I even want to if Brent isn’t in it?