by Cindy Miles
“Brax, I’m sorry. I don’t know—”
“What was that, huh, Gracie?” Brax, my scope bag still on his shoulder, began to pace. The anger rolled off him in sheets, and his face was a mixture of emotions. In the lamplight I noticed hurt was one of them. “You’re discussing us with him?”
“No, I—”
“He’s got no right in our fucking business, Gracie.” His eyes were so angry, so inflamed, and it stung to be on the receiving end of such a stare, in more ways than one. “None.” He wiped his face with his hands. “Fuckin TA. He doesn’t know me.” He glared at me. “The only reason I didn’t break his fucking nose is because I didn’t want you to get in any hot water. Period.”
The sting of his anger, seemingly toward me, sifted into defensiveness. “Are you mad at me?”
When he stood close, his body engulfed mine. He grew louder. Angrier. “You were discussing us, Gracie. Me. With that prick. Yeah, I’m pissed.”
Irritation flushed over me. “I wasn’t discussing anything, Brax.” My voice quieted, and I felt hurt. “What he said to me was unasked for, unprovoked. Out of the blue.”
Brax drew closer, his head lowered, eyes focused and accusing. “You didn’t bother to correct him.”
His blame singed me, and I felt an icy dread sludge through my insides. I retrieved my truck keys from my pocket. “You didn’t give me time to. Can I have my scope please?” When he just stood there, I turned and walked to my truck. Brax was right on my heels. Once there, I unlocked and opened the door.
“You’re pissed? Are you serious?” Sarcasm and disbelief hung in his voice. “I’m the one who walked up to find you and dickhead all cuddled up on that platform, gazing at the stars and talking about how you needed to be careful with me.” He barked out a laugh. “Give me a fucking break, Sunshine. Even you can’t be that naïve.”
White hot emotions careened into me then; fury, pain, and the realization that Brax had a serious problem with jealousy. Much like Kelsy. I lifted my scope bag from Brax’s shoulder and slid it across the bench seat in my cab. I climbed in after it.
“Whoa, whoa,” Brax then said. He grabbed my waist with both hands and pulled me back. As I stood there, my heart raced; my breath hurt to move through my lungs. And I hated that for the first time since falling for Brax Jenkins, I wanted to get away from him. “You’re going to leave, just like that?” he asked.
I turned in his hands, my back to my opened truck door, and I looked up into beautiful, frightening, astonished eyes. “For whatever reason, Noah took it upon himself to warn me about you. I had no control over it. That’s what you heard when you walked up, Brax. I was just as stunned as you to hear it.” I took my hands and pushed his off my hips. “But what stuns me even more is how quickly your anger turned on me.” Twisting, I jumped up into the cab of my truck. Tears stung my eyes but I kept them from falling. “I’m not nearly as naïve as you think I am.”
I yanked on my door to close it, but Brax caught it, held it open. “Gracie, wait. Don’t go. I’m sorry.”
Sadness made my gaze heavy. “So am I.” This time I pulled, and Brax let the door close. I started the engine and put the truck in drive.
Brax slapped the fender, making a tinny thump. “I said I’m fuckin sorry!” he yelled. “Gracie!”
Pain made me react, made me want to just escape and, although not the mature response, there it was. Tears pushed past my lids now, and I angrily swiped them away. It was just a stupid fight, I knew that; but it was our first. It didn’t feel good. Not at all. Dammit, I didn’t want him to see me cry.
I pulled out of the parking lot. I didn’t look back.
Somehow, I knew Brax would follow me; the round headlight in my rear view mirror was all the proof I needed. I knew he had a right to be angry, but for some reason it offended me that he seemed to take that anger out on me. As if I’d had anything to do with Noah’s proclamation of Brax’s bad reputation.
No sooner did I pull into my parking spot, kill the engine and open the door was Brax already off his bike and standing there. He opened the door. “Jesus fuck, Gracie, please.” I sat stone-statue still in my truck, staring out the windshield, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the wheel. His voice held pain; more than what was caused by our fight, or by Noah’s warning, or even by his accidental intrusion on the conversation. I let out a pent-up sigh, watched as a tear fell onto the thigh of my faded jeans.
“Baby, Christ God, I’m such an idiot. Please don’t cry.” Brax’s calloused fingers grasped my jaw, forcing my gaze to his. Embarrassment swamped over me and I blinked, trying to convince my treacherous eyeballs to stop leaking. But Brax’s roughened knuckle brushed away the trail of dampness. He crouched down then, the material pulling taut over his muscled thighs, the tee shirt snugged over his broad shoulders, and he looked up from his lowered position. His hands now rested on my knee. He squeezed it, slightly, exhaled and stared at the ground between his feet, then back up to me. “You gotta believe me when I say I’m sorry, Gracie. I lost it back there.” He glanced away, thinking. “I thought he’d convinced you I was no good.” His eyes seared into mine, and I saw doubt there. A lot of it; more than what he probably meant for me to see. “I thought you believed him.”
Brax’s confessions from that night on the ball diamond came rushing back, and I was struck by the force of the fears he still had buried deep inside. Abandonment seemed an empty description. In many ways he was the strongest person I knew; his turmoil growing up had made him a survivor, valiant. Yet a part of him, no matter how small it might seem, lingered inside of him like a small, frightened kid—scared of being left alone in a dumpster to just … stop existing. It saddened me; it didn’t make me pity him, but just the opposite. I respected him for showing me this vulnerable side of Braxton Jenkins, for letting me in, and I was positive not another soul in Texas had witnessed it. I wondered if it meant something. If he might care for me as much as I secretly cared for him. I reached for his hands then, where they still gripped my knee, and threaded my fingers through his strong ones. My voice felt unsteady, shaky. “I draw my own conclusions, Brax. About everyone, and everything. That doesn’t just include you. It especially includes you.” I chose my next words carefully. “I don’t typically let people in”—I pressed one of my hands to my heart—“here. So trust me, if the rumors I heard about you from the get-go didn’t scare me away, nothing will.” His fingers tightened around mine, and I saw instant relief flood the harsh planes and unique features that the shadows tried so hard to hide. “Noah was wrong for what he said. Even he admitted having overstepped his boundaries, and he was right about that. And I have no idea what caused him to feel the need to warn me about you.” I peered closely at him. “I don’t need any more warnings. And I don’t like being yelled at, Brax, or accused falsely. I understand you felt like you’d walked up on something between Noah and I, but you didn’t. That’s not me, not the kind of person I am.” I smiled then, and I saw regret soften his unusual eyes. “I’m different. Remember?”
Brax stood, his body filling the space left by my opened door. With one arm, he braced his weight against the frame and leaned in. His hand lowered, pushed my braid over my shoulder, then grasped my jaw and drew his mouth over mine. “I know you are,” he whispered, and his lips brushed feathery over mine. Then, he nudged my mouth open as he deepened the kiss, and the gentle swipe of his tongue, so possessive and erotic, made my lips tingle. Without thinking, I eased across the bench seat, Brax slid behind the wheel, pulled the door closed and laid me back, our tongues and mouths fusing, tasting. My heart raced out of control. God, that kiss could have gone on and on.
Or maybe even further. And just when I thought it would, Brax stopped, his big palms resting against the bare skin of my ribs, our breathing in sync and fast and deliciously fogging up the windows. He instead helped me from the cab of my truck. Walked with one arm around my shoulders as he carried my scope to the dorm entrance. Kissed me again and swiped my card. Gave me
a little push inside after we kissed some more. Watched me until the shadows swallowed me up in the darkened common room. Even inside the stairwell, the rumble of his muffler sounded, and I listened to it as it carried him further away. It was a double-edged sword, that distinct sound; one of comfort, of familiarity. And then, one of departure, an echo of Brax departing. Leaving. Fading away. That sound and thought thumped heavier in the pit of my stomach than it should have, and I didn’t understand why.
Over the next week we’d left September behind, and the first day of October brought about a subtle change in the atmosphere at Winston. Not so much in temperature; I mean, Texas was Texas, and if we were blessed with even the occasional cold front, we were lucky ducks. Regardless of the weather, though, the early sightings of fall, and pending Halloween, brought out the mischief in people. Girls tried to wear sweaters or long sleeves, simply because it was that time of year to do so. Frat and sorority parties grew in numbers. The Sigma Chis had an on-going rival with the Kappas, and pranks were traded back and forth. Colorful flags of pumpkins and changing leaves hung from the Lambda house. Football games became the thing to do on weekends, and were either preluded, preceded, or both, on game day with public acts of harmless humiliation. Underwear on car bumpers. Bras taped to windows. Someone from the Sigmas dressed as a Reaper and stalked students as they hustled from one class to another. They seemed immature, but all in good fun.
Until I became the butt of one.
Again.
My poor truck.
Noah and Dr. Callandar had left Steven and I in charge so that they could attend a weekend conference in Fort Worth. We’d not only finished setting up a new expo of a simulated and extremely cool Draconid meteor shower in observation room two, with a fall of stardust and mist and extraordinary planetary geekness, but we’d also knocked out a major log entry and experiment for our astronomy lab by breaking down the parts of a spectrometer to show its function and relativity to studying light and the stars.
“You know our project is a beast, right?” Steven said, locking the front entrance to the observatory behind him. “Aced it.”
I laughed. “Yeah, it is, and we did.” Steven always parked around the side of the building, in the opposite lot facing Main Street, so I threw up my hand and waved as he trotted down the steps. “See ya Monday.”
“Yep,” he answered, and I watched the darkness gobble him up. From the shadows, he called out. “Hey, where’s your boyfriend?”
I turned and answered. “Fall baseball game with North Star State. He’s coming over later. We’re scoping Draco from Oliver’s rooftop.” Draco meaning the constellation. It always blew my mind when I encountered someone who’d never been shown a constellation, and Draco was by far my favorite.
“Sweet. Just making sure I didn’t miss any girly break-up clues. See ya!”
I started down the ramp and wound my way to my side of the observatory. I glanced up and sighed. Such a perfect night, totally clear with no glaring moonshine. Stars flooded the heavens, and I thought this might be one of the most perfect constellation nights ever.
The moment my eyes clapped onto my truck, I knew something was wrong. Not situated in the brightest of light, at a quick glance it looked okay. Until you noticed the tires.
Or rather, the lack of them.
It stopped me stone-cold in my tracks. Not a sound did I mutter as I stared, disbelieving. Barely a breath. Certainly no words. At first. Then it sunk in. What had really, truly happened.
I lowered my head, stared at my shadow stretching across the pavement of the observatory’s empty side parking lot. And swore.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I spat. I stood for a moment, hands on my hips, just … gawking. My gaze shot around the parking lot. Who in their right mind would drive up this close to the observatory and remove all the wheels and tires from my truck and stick them in the bed? But they had. All four of them, off. Concrete blocks took their place, and held up the frame.
Shit!
I blew out a long, frustrated, pissed off sigh and stomped across the lot. Of course this would happen on a night Brax wasn’t here to meet me after work. Perfect. I peered through darkness, to where the halo of street lamp ended, and listened. I didn’t hear anything. Nor did I see anything. No camera phones. No giggling. Nothing.
Then, a burst of laughter erupted from the shadows, and it set off, I don’t know, at least a half dozen more fits. Male and female, from what I could tell. A few flashes went off. I turned my back and ignored them. I couldn’t help but wonder who it was. At least gutter fuck had been left out of the equation.
In the distance, music rocked from one of the campus frat houses, and the football game must’ve ended by the sound of a stream of horns blowing and people hollering. I swore again, just as an engine started in the darkness, at the far end of the lot and close to the main road. Away from lights, I couldn’t make out the model. I could tell it was a truck, but that was all. I turned away once more, before someone got an even better view of my face. The last thing I wanted was to become another overnight viral sensation. I just wanted to get finished and get gone.
This wasn’t going to be easy. Doable, but not easy to accomplish alone. “It’s not going to fix itself by you just staring and huffing about it, Beaumont,” I muttered to myself out loud. And, my inner self was absolutely right. Luckily, I knew how to fix the problem or I’d have to spend a chunk of money to call someone out to do it for me. Lowering the tailgate, I leapt up, unlocked my Lockbox, and dug out my tools and jack. Placing them on the concrete by the front driver’s side, I pulled one wheel and tire out of the bed, rolled it to the front, and set to work.
By the time I had three of the four wheels back on, the roar of exhaust tore through the air. Cory’s Camaro flew across the parking lot, and hadn’t even stopped before Brax threw open the passenger side door and leapt out. In his cleats he jogged toward me, and beneath the bill of his Silverbacks ball cap, his expression was dark and thunderous. Orange clay stained his right thigh and backside, no doubt where he’d been sliding. Cory killed the engine then unfolded his big self out of the driver’s side and followed Brax over. His uniform looked as dirty as Brax’s.
“You okay?” Brax asked, and his eyes fixed onto mine until I answered.
“I’m fine now,” I said. I wanted to diffuse the anger I saw brewing in Brax’s expression. “Earlier, though, wow.” My lip quirked up and I lowered my voice. “I said dirty words. Out loud, even. Did you guys win?”
Well, that sort of did the trick. The darkness fell, and Brax’s mouth lifted in one corner, and he gathered me in a full body hug. “Did you now?” he said into the crook of my neck. “I’m sorry I missed that. Yeah, we won. Why didn’t you call me? Or Tessa?”
“Because. Tessa went home for the weekend and you were at your game.” I shrugged. “This is a pain, but I can do it myself. How’d you guys know?”
“Are you sure you wanna be an astronomer?” Cory asked. “Because you’ve become a local star.” He shook his cell phone at me. “Viral.”
My head dropped back and stared skyward. “Ugh, great. My brother’s going to see it and rat me out.”
Brax’s face appeared over mine, and he brushed his lips against my mouth. “I like your brothers, then.” He glanced over my head at the truck, then looked at me. “I can’t believe you can fuckin’ change your own tires.”
“Hmm,” I answered. “The skills I possess.” I shook my head. “Mind-blowing.”
He nestled his lips against my throat, and his teeth grazed my skin. I shivered. “What a sick chick I got, huh, Maxwell?”
“So right, Jenks. I’m pretty jealous, actually. You only got brothers, huh, Beaumont?”
I laughed at Cory, who’d slowly taken a shine to me after that first day in the batting cages. He only called me by my last name, which I found hilariously cute. “Sorry, buddy. Just brothers.”
“Mother?”
“Dude,” Brax teased. “Power down.”
&nbs
p; Cory just laughed. “Okay, you two weirdly conjoined twins cut the cord and let’s get this hooptie back together.” He looked at Brax. “We’ve got some assholes to find.”
My gaze shifted from one ball player to the other. “What do you mean?”
Brax moved to the bed of the truck, gathered the last wheel and tire in one hand, and leapt down. “You don’t think we’re just gonna let this ride, do you?”
“No chance,” Cory chimed in.
“Seriously, there’s no need to make a big deal about it,” I urged. “It was a fall prank. Nothing more. Girls and guys, a whole group of them. Not just one person. No big deal. You don’t need to go punch someone’s face in because of it.”
Brax’s head appeared around the tailgate, his hair curling up from the back of his cap. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve already been pranked once.”
“Yeah, and it was a royally fucked up tasteless prank,” Cory said.
“Twice pranked? On my girl?” Brax returned to putting the wheel and tire on the back right side. “Sorry. Hell and fuck no, Sunshine.” The sincere protectiveness made his accent heavier than usual, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like him referring to me as his girl.
I left it at that, mainly because I knew there’d be no changing either of their minds. They were as hard-headed as my brothers. Within minutes, Brax had the tire on and Cory loaded the concrete blocks into the bed of the truck.
“Later,” Cory said, and his Camaro door squeaked as he opened it. “You good, dude?”
“Yeah,” Brax answered, and retrieved his duffle from the backseat. “Be there when I’m there, bro.”
Cory flashed me a grin as he slammed the door and stuck his head out the window. “See ya, geek girl.”
I returned it. “Not if I see you first.” He sped off, his tail lights fading into the night.