Brady’s voice brings my eyes back to the stage. He is gorgeous in his black slacks and button down. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Brady Carsen,” he starts talking and my grandma whistles, making him chuckle into the microphone. The nice shade of pink is refreshing on him.
“I know that none of you know me, but I have known Jack here for quite a number of years. He has asked that I accompany him tonight and I hope you don’t mind.” He strums his guitar a few times.
“You know when someone comes into your life and you wonder where you were headed before you met them. Your whole life takes on a different meaning and you start living for them, instead of yourself? Well, that happened to me two months ago when Sadie Miller fell into my arms. This is for you, beautiful.” His sultry voice fills the room, accompanied by his guitar with “When you Say Nothing at All” by Ronan Keating.
I notice the stares from the corner of my eyes. I want to run up on stage and jump into his arms, showing all of these people that he’s mine. For the first time in all of the occasions I have seen Brady sing, his eyes stay open the whole time, staring directly at me. He never looks down at his guitar while he strums along with Jack. It is only the two of us in the room. I imagine if this were a movie, everyone else would fade into a black abyss, leaving a spotlight just on us. As the song draws to a close, Brady puts his guitar down, allowing Jack to fully take over. He walks over and bends down in front of me while taking my hands in my lap and sings solely to me. A tear falls down my cheek and he cups my face to catch the next one with his thumb. When the song is over, he leans forward and kisses me.
“I love you, baby,” he whispers in my ear.
Before I can say it back, he is already on stage, grabbing his guitar again. When he turns around again, he gives me his signature wink.
“Sadie…you need to marry that boy before he gets away,” my grandma says loudly.
“Thanks, Grandma,” I giggle in return, my eyes only on Brady.
The rest of the night, Brady plays a variety of songs with Jack. Numerous songs are popular hits that they turn into an acoustic mix for this stuffy crowd. I happily agree to dance with an older gentleman from our table. He spins me around the dance floor, making it hard to keep up. Brady laughs every time his eyes land on us and I look at him, worried at what I got myself into.
Brady and Jack announce that they are playing their last song, making me grateful. I’m done sharing him, especially with these self-absorbed people that most likely don’t appreciate his talent. A familiar, deep voice taps me on the shoulder and asks if I want to dance. I reluctantly stand up and take my father’s hand.
He leads me to the dance floor while Brady switches over to the keyboard. He starts playing “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” by Chicago, but for the first time, his song choice is off. The last thing my dad will do is apologize.
“Sadie, I’m not sorry for last night. I see how much you care for him, but he won’t be able to give you the life you deserve,” he says softly so no one else hears him.
“What kind of life? A happy one?” I sneer at him.
“How will he support you? Eventually those looks will fade.”
I roll my eyes. “Dad, Brady is talented and he doesn’t rely on his looks. Did you ever think that I don’t want someone to support me? I don’t want this life,” I say, looking around.
“Why the hell not? Was your life so bad, Sadie? Was your closet too full of high- end clothes or your new Mercedes at sixteen that terrible? I can imagine having your college tuition plus spending money must be a nightmare. Did I give you such a horrible life that you want to spit in my face now?” His sarcastic voice escalates but for the first time, I don’t care if we make a scene.
“I want someone who loves me and Brady does. He accepts me…fully,” I confess.
“Really? Does he know you were a slut in college? How about Theo and why he died? Does he know that you got your brother killed?” he asks me between clenched teeth, tightening his grip. I may have always felt the guilt, but hearing it hurts that much more.
I pull out of his arms and run out of the room. In the hallway, I hear the music stop abruptly. When I get outside, Brady is right behind me, already wrapping his arms around me. “Take me home,” I whisper through tears.
“Okay.” He whistles for a cab and when we get in, I give the driver my parents’ address. Brady holds me the entire ride, not asking any questions.
When we pull up into the drive, I open the door and inform the cab driver to stay and tell Brady to pack his bags.
“No Sadie, I will not let you run from your family on account of me,” he says, grabbing both my arms.
“I asked you to take me home,” I say.
“You are home Sadie,” he answers, confused.
“No, take me back to Western. This is no longer home to me.” I run up the stairs to get my bag. I hear Brady’s footsteps behind me before entering the room across the hall to get his belongings.
Just as I shut the front door to leave, my mom, dad, and grandma pull up.
“Sadie Marie Miller, you better think twice before leaving here,” he screams.
“What are you going to do?” I yell back.
“This life that you hate so much. Let’s see you live without the privileges it provides. You walk away and it’s gone…all of it,” he hisses.
“Relax, Junior,” my mom pleads. “Sadie…stay, we can talk about this,” she begs.
“What’s it going to be, Sadie?” he asks, the ultimatum clear.
“Stop this, Theo,” my grandma tries to step in. “Brady, talk to her,” she instructs him.
“Sadie…let’s go inside and talk,” Brady tries to reason with me.
“Listen to him, Sadie. I don’t think you realize what you are deciding here,” my dad responds.
“Do you really blame me?” I ask. “You think I killed Theo,” I state, my voice shaking. My mom and grandma gasp between us.
“Of course he doesn’t, darling,” my grandma speaks up.
“Do you?” I demand and my dad remains silent, standing in the headlights of the cab. “Take it, take everything. I don’t care,” I yell and get in the waiting car.
“Sadie…just so we are clear. Your car, your credit cards, your tuition. All of it, gone.” My dad stands outside the cab door now as Brady stands in limbo between us.
“I don’t want anything from you,” I tell him, looking straight ahead.
“No, Sadie please, don’t do this.” My mom comes around the other side of the car, begging me through the window.
“We can deal with this darling, come in the house,” my grandma begs.
“I’m sorry, Mom…Grandma. I love you. Good-bye,” I say and Brady enters the cab in silence.
Brady tells the cab driver to pull away and I curl into his chest, not looking back. I sob into his shirt, hearing my mom’s screams get fainter with every minute.
Chapter 21
My dad kept his word. My car was towed this morning and my credit cards were cut off. I know my tuition is paid up through the semester, and hopefully I will be able to get a loan or assistance to pay for my last semester. As I look up financial aid information on my laptop, Brady comes into his room. I see the guilt in his eyes; he blames himself.
“Baby, don’t worry about this now. I will help you figure it out,” he says and closes the laptop, which technically belongs to my dad.
“Okay,” I agree and curl back up in a ball on the bed.
“Stay with me, Sadie?” he requests.
“I am staying with you,” I respond.
“No, move in here with me. I’ll take care of you,” he kindly offers.
“No, Brady, but thank you. You and the guys have your place. I still have the dorm until Christmas break.”
“I want you here…with me. I want to wake up to you every morning and kiss you goodnight before I fall asleep,” he says, kissing my neck.
“I can’t ask you to do that, Brady.” I move my hands to the ba
ck of his head, holding his lips to the back of my neck.
“Please, Sadie. Just think about it?” he asks and moves his lips behind my ear.
“Okay…I’ll think about it,” I finally concede. It takes everything inside of me not to agree to move in with him.
Brady is lightly snoring next to me, while all of the things I will have to do consume my mind. Get a job, get a loan, and find a place to live. The list is unending and suddenly I feel very overwhelmed and unable to sleep. I get up out of bed, tiptoe out of the room, and begin making my way downstairs. The door to my right catches my eye and I walk over, slowly turning the knob. It’s locked. Was Brady telling me the truth about it just being storage stuff? Before we can continue moving forward, he has to trust me with his secrets. I recall the exchange he had with Jessa before we left for Niagara Falls, when he told her to take care of his house.
Curiosity overcomes me and I travel down the hall to the other bedrooms. With the boys out of town, I peruse their rooms. Rob’s is a disaster with clothes strewn on top of a chair and guitar picks in every nook and cranny. Dex is fairly neat, although his bed isn’t made and there is an inch of dust on every piece of furniture. Trey’s seems to be in the best shape. His bed is made, but there are numerous water and beer bottles on his dresser and nightstand. I walk down the hallway, and after checking to see that Brady is still snoring, I decide to make my way downstairs.
I never noticed all of the nice, older furniture before. The house isn’t filled with mismatched items from thrift stores or garage sales. Even the carpet is void of stains. Deciding to get a bottle of water, I dig my phone out of my purse and take a seat on one of the nice couches in the living room.
Scrolling through my phone, I see the missed calls from my mom and grandma. My mom sent me a few texts. She tells me not to worry about my dad, that it will work out and I won’t be cut off. I guess this was before he took my car this morning. I don’t bother to listen to the voicemails; nothing will change my mind.
They fail to understand that after Theo’s death, those things aren’t important to me anymore. I don’t want a slew of houses with large walk-in closets. I want to love my children and know their likes and dislikes. I want to be the one who tucks them in at night and wishes them good morning with kisses and hugs. The day I buried Theo, I promised myself I would live for happiness and love, not money and prestige.
I flip through the pictures on my phone. The urge today is greater than previous days. I need to see his face. My lips curl up as soon as I see that smirk of a smile. I snapped the picture a few days before the incident, when he was sprawled out on my bed complaining about some course. I wish I could remember the conversation, but I was too preoccupied with what I was going to wear to that formal. The feeling of failing him overpowers me and one tear drops down, resting on the edge of my nose. Then another one. Soon my face is drenched with wetness as I stare at those emerald eyes staring back at me, not unlike my own. I almost feel his arms around my shoulders, telling me he’s with me. That he will always be there for me. Even now I feel him watching over me, protecting me.
I wake up in Brady’s bed. I assume he found me downstairs and brought me up to his room. I grab one of his sweatshirts and make my way to the kitchen, where I hear music. Brady sits at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and tapping his fingers on the table to the beat of the music.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, smiling when his eyes find me in the doorway.
“Thanks for bringing me upstairs,” I reply, sitting across from him.
“I prefer you in bed with me,” he grins. “Coffee?”
“I can get it.” I stand up and walk toward the counter but Brady cuts me off, chuckling to himself. “Really, babe, let me get it.”
“Here you go,” he turns around, holding my cup.
“Thank you,” I say and rise to my tip toes to give him a kiss.
“Always,” he responds and walks back over to his seat. “So, we have about four hours before the roommates start coming back. What do you want to do?”
“Hmm…” I put my finger up to my lips, jokingly contemplating.
“Me too. Come on over here,” he instructs. I walk over and straddle him on the kitchen chair. We haven’t had sex since before we left for my parents. I appreciate Brady giving me the space after we got back, but there is nothing I want more than to be with him.
“Lose the shirt,” I command.
Brady’s eyes sparkle as he hurriedly takes his shirt off and tosses it to the floor.
“What next?” he asks eagerly, clearly enjoying my assertiveness.
“Take my shirt off.” He happily takes the hem of my shirt and tears it over my head.
“No bra.” He smiles widely. “Could this morning get any better?” he comments. “Next, baby?”
“Please touch me,” I beg and lean down to kiss him. His hands go right to my breasts, kneading and pushing them as I moan into his mouth.
“Do you want me to suck them?” he asks. I nod my head and he ducks his head down, wrapping his mouth around one of my nipples, sucking it into his mouth.
“God, Brady, more. I need more,” I pant.
“Like?” he questions, taking a break from my breasts. He peeks up at me through his eyelashes.
“I need you…inside of me,” I confess.
“What do you need inside of you, baby?” he asks, with his hands already on their way up my thighs, venturing to the inside of my boxers.
“Your…” I trail off, too embarrassed to finish.
“Say it, baby, and it’s yours.” Brady’s fingers peek through my shorts and now graze over my clit before he inserts one finger in. When I still don’t answer, he inserts a second one, making me buck into his hand.
“Your cock…I need your cock in me,” I answer him breathlessly and a smile consumes his face.
“It’s ready, come and get it,” he instructs, leaning back in the chair. I pull down his pajama pants and expose his erect hardness while he slides my boxers to the side. When I climb entirely on top of him, letting him fill me, I gasp from the pleasure. “Shit, you feel good.”
Brady pushes me back a little, while I move up and down over him. He plays with my breasts, thumbing my already taut nipples. Moving his hands to my face, he inserts a finger in my mouth and I automatically suck it in response.
“Fuck me, Brady!” I scream and he brings his hips up to meet mine. As I go down, he comes up. We are in perfect harmony with each other. I can’t hold the ecstasy back anymore; it is right on the edge, teeter-tottering back and forth.
“I love fucking you, baby,” he shouts through erratic breathing. With that, I fall into rapture and grip his shoulders while he slows his movements into gentle circles, enabling me to enjoy the thrilling waves of pleasure.
“Now, it’s your turn. I want to see you come,” I whisper to him and he starts going faster again, guiding my hips up and down, harder and harder, before he stills inside of me and his head falls on my shoulder.
“Shit that was hot, baby.” Brady hugs me to him, kissing my neck.
“I’d say it was,” a deep voice calls out in the doorway and I freeze while Brady pulls me closer to him, trying to shield me from Rob.
“Get the fuck out, Robbie,” Brady yells and throws a spoon at him.
“I’m going,” he says, backing away from the door. “I think I have to get Jessa or solve this problem on my own,” he mumbles to himself, walking upstairs.
I anxiously get up and throw my shirt over my head, tossing Brady his. I imagine my face is beet red from the heat I feel across my cheeks.
“Just think. If you move in, I could always kick him out.” Brady pulls me into his chest.
“How could you kick him out?” I ask. I believe I already know the answer, but I want Brady to tell me.
“Shit…,” he says, shaking his head, obviously upset with himself. “Sit down, Sadie,” he requests.
I take the chair across from him and Brady brin
gs my coffee to me. He tells me that it’s his house, the house he grew up in. His dad left to live somewhere else and gave him the house, free and clear, no mortgage. He only charges the guys the bare minimum to pay for utilities and a cleaning lady…mystery solved. When I ask him why he kept it from me, he admits he was worried I wouldn’t like him for him but rather what he owned. Jessa knows because Rob told her and he wishes it wouldn’t have been like that, but he didn’t know what to do. As much as it hurts thinking that Brady thought I could have been a materialistic bitch, at the same time, I understand why he was scared. A few years ago, that’s exactly what I was.
After he reveals the truth regarding the house, Brady appears happier, as though a burden is lifted off his shoulders. Unfortunately, it brings about a whole new set of questions. I need to know more about Brady’s parents. Brady says his dad is around, but I never see him and he never talks about him. From what I understood from the conversation with my dad, he retired last year after being the dean of contemporary music. I desperately want to google him, but I’m torn between waiting for Brady to tell me and finding out on my own.
Chapter 22
My mom has called a couple dozen times today. I still haven’t picked up; I don’t even want to mend this fight. After Brady dropped me off last night, I told Jessa the whole sordid story. All she said was ‘Fuck him. I know he’s your dad, Sadie, but what a jackass.’ I couldn’t agree with her more. Then she took me to the cafeteria and we gorged on junk food.
I have already been to the financial aid office this morning, where I was informed that I don’t qualify because of my parents’ income. They told me that a student loan would be the best way, handing me a pamphlet with some names and numbers. After calling a few numbers, I found out that it will be virtually impossible to have the paperwork done since I only have less than two months before second semester starts. I’m probably going to have to take my final semester off, and maybe everything will be handled by the summer. Then I can graduate next winter.
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