3. Brant
Brant
A toasted and nutty aroma flees from the coffee pot in my hand. I hear Julia pad along the tile behind me, an unsure smile carving from my lips when her palms land on my bare back.
My lower abs lean into the edge of the butcher block counter as I fill two mugs. I return the pot to the hot plate, spinning around with the cups to hand one to Julia.
“The royal treatment,” she teases. “Thank you.”
Her strawberry-blonde hair is flipped and tousled to one side, draping over the Yorkstone t-shirt I leant her.
“After last night, I figured we could use some fuel.” My brows pop suggestively before I lift my mug to my lips.
Our eyes meet, mouths cradling the rims of our cups as the warm liquid drizzles into me. I rest my free hand on the counter behind my back, and then I’m crossing one foot in front of the other.
Her mug is nestled inside her palms when she averts her attention. “If I’m being honest, you surprised me a little bit,” she admits, eventually returning her playful eyes to me.
My gaze narrows as I peer down at her. “Is that a good thing?”
Julia nods. “Oh, yes.”
I know that look.
Shit.
Morning light strikes through the window above the sink on the adjacent wall. Her brown hues are accented with this elated gleam, and I pause, drawing another taste of coffee.
When I pivot to lay my mug on the counter, I’m ready to lay the truth on her. “Hey, listen—”
“Ugh, I’m sorry, I know you’re not looking for a relationship. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
My body swivels to meet her anxious scoff. The heel of her palm is glued to her forehead, and I instinctively reach for her arm. I lower it from her face as I speak. “No, that’s not what I meant. At all.”
Her expression remains unmoved, eyes wandering around me.
“I want to continue this,” I say. “Continue seeing you, but only if you’re comfortable with it being just this.”
She buttons her lips to the side, tipping her chin up as she inches closer. “It’s too bad you weren’t mediocre in bed.” Her fingers find the metal charm of my necklace before she gently tugs on it.
My focus shakes just as she lifts herself on her toes. “Yeah, sorry about that,” I murmur, my concentration thwarted. “It’s not in me to hand out ordinary service where women are concerned. Maybe it’s the gentleman in me, who knows?”
Our lips hover an inch from each other, warmth kindling between us. “I guess so,” she coos before her mouth melts to mine.
“Hey, Bra—”
Sean’s voice floods the kitchen, and Julia’s spinning into the crook of my arm. He scrubs a hand through his windswept hair, walking to a flat-panel cabinet in his sweatpants and tank top.
“Brant typically warns me when he has company, otherwise I wouldn’t have interrupted you like a jackass.” When he retrieves a bowl, he walks over to us while extending a hand. “Sean.”
Julia shines a grin, cradling her palm in his. “Julia. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he says as he pulls away.
Her finger wags around. “Brant tells me this is your uncle’s place? It’s stunning.”
He shakes his head, his brown eyes shutting briefly. “I’m sorry, I’m thrown off by the fact that Brant told you some sort of backstory.”
I smirk with unease, unraveling myself from Julia. My body rotates to pick my coffee back up, Sean’s wise-ass chuckle brushing my ear when I take a sip. Then I hear him mutter “this fucking guy” before answering Julia’s question.
“Yeah, it is,” he says. “After Brant and I roomed together at college, I rented my uncle’s second home. Once I landed a promising job in New York, I figured I could use some help paying the rent since I knew I’d be here for some time.”
“I love that so much,” Julia says.
Sean’s hand waves around the scene of the compact, postmodern kitchen. “It’s not anything big, but we like the style. It’s fitting, if the minimal design didn’t give that away.”
“Are you an architect too?”
“Construction manager.”
“Ah,” Julia replies with a simple bob of her head.
I gulp another drag of coffee before leveling my cup with hers. “Quality over quantity. Every time.”
“Cheers to that,” she adds. The ceramic of our mugs taps together before Julia’s departing. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I promised Ellie I’d be there for her wedding dress search today. Wish me luck.”
“Godspeed,” I toss with a soft salute.
Sean’s now at my left, rummaging through the cabinets when he calls out, “It was great to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Julia’s peering over her shoulder before walking the narrow hallway. “I’ll catch you on my way out.”
I nod, flashing her a knowing smirk.
“You should’ve just suggested she pick up a wedding dress for herself,” Sean quips, placing his bowl and a cereal box on the counter.
My head pokes to where he’s stationed now. “She’s cool.”
The corn flakes clink against the bowl as he responds, “No, honestly, I’m happy for you.” He shrugs gently, as if considering his next words carefully. “I know you’ve been procrastinating the bigger mission here out of fear, but you look content, bro. And maybe that’s worth looking into, you know?”
After knowing me for the past ten years, I’m positive he means that.
But he couldn’t be more wrong.
When I pulled the trigger and moved to New York, the goal was crystal clear—get her back. Bring her home. Everything was so obvious after that dream on the balcony of my Rhode Island apartment. I was so sure of my mission, calling Sean later that day to tell him to make room for me.
No questions were asked.
But the flashbacks still thunder in my mind. Howling at me to just let her be. Free her from all the horror I forced her to endure that night. Free her from the boy she wanted to cut loose that afternoon under those damn pine trees.
The revelation that swirled in her eyes that day haunts me without mercy. I could practically see the life she wanted beyond me. Without me. The vision was like salt to an open wound. I’m not sure I can survive seeing it brought to life.
Seeing her with another man?
I’d die from the chainsaw to my heart.
My throat rolls, numbly watching Sean’s arms and hands move with the preparation of his breakfast. I lift my fingers to the metal charm dangling from my necklace chain, my stomach pitching like clockwork.
It’s always two steps forward and one giant leap back.
“What’s with the face?” Sean mumbles mid-chew. His lower back is leaned against the counter as he balances the cereal bowl in his palm.
I shuffle, digging my free hand in the pocket of my joggers. “Nothing. I just have to make a call to a new client.”
“That bad?”
A light scoff escapes me. “You could say that.”
“How long have you been working with him?”
I take another sip of my coffee before setting it down. “That’s the fucking kicker. I haven’t even started working with him yet.”
“Damn,” he responds. “That sucks, bro. Sorry.”
“Yeah,” I breathe, skating a hand over my head. “I’m just gonna get this over with.”
“Have fun,” Sean tosses before exiting the kitchen.
I pinch the bridge of my nose between two fingers, mentally preparing myself to engage with this entitled prick.
He’s the type of person I’ve always steered clear of.
The kind of guy I’d never seek out to be friends with.
I can only imagine the mental torture he’s going to inflict on me in the upcoming months.
And as much as I want to impress my boss, this fucking blows.
It’s as simple as that.
My thumb taps the phone screen, only for my chin to angle toward the recessed lights of the ceiling. A couple rings vibrate against my ear, and then Jesse’s voice pierces through.
“Jesse Miller.”
“Hi, Jesse, it’s Brant Beckett from Nexis Architecture,” I say. “I’m just returning your call.”
“Yes,” he responds. “I was able to take a look at your portfolio last night and was actually really impressed.”
I’ll ignore the “actually” part.
“I’m really glad to hear that. Thank you.”
“I’d like to meet on Thursday around two o’clock,” Jesse states.
“Yes, I left my schedule open for you in case,” I reply.
“Great,” he agrees. “I’m going to have a handful of questions, so I expect to gain more information than what I already know. I expect you to come prepared with answers, as my time is really valuable.”
Is this project really worth it?
“I promise to answer the necessary questions to get this process started and running smoothly. I understand wanting to get a project done as quickly as possible, but we want to make sure the project is done efficiently and with quality work,” I explain.
“I hear that, Brant. But I also want to make sure we can stick to a timeline that works for me. After all, I am the one paying you guys.”
“Of course. We can draw up a general timeline when we meet. Should you feel any adjustments need to be made, I can always get in touch with the contractors and interior designers.”
“Okay, that’s good for me. I’ll see you on Thursday,” Jesse says.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it.”
Am I, though?