Forever Together (Forever Love #2)

by Jade Whitfield

  I go to open my mouth, so used to avoiding this, so used to disagreeing. Nothing comes out though. The only reply I give is a nod of my head as the fireworks shoot up into the sky like multicolored ribbons behind him.

  Even as the self-doubts begin to worm their way in and the fear returns. I hope he doesn’t let me go.

  Chapter 13

  Brady

  I got a hundred celebratory songs chiming in my head right now. The world’s all colorful and shit and I’m pretty sure if this was a cartoon, I'd have hearts floating around my head.

  It’s official, fourth of July is now my favorite holiday. I’m gonna celebrate every year the fact that not only is it the day the Declaration of Independence got printed off or some shit, but as the day I got my Cinders back. Yep I won her back and victory never tasted so damn sweet.

  "Seriously dude, you having that look on your face is making me mighty uncomfortable, especially when two minutes ago you had a guy with his hand about two inches from your junk." Tucker's lame ass voice brings me back to the here and now. Seriously, can’t a guy daydream about the love of his life in peace? Next time I walk in his house and accidently cock block him, I won’t feel so bad.

  "Fuck you man." I scowl at the shit eating grin on his face.

  It’s bad enough I was kidnapped from my own fucking bed at the ass crack of dawn to come do this measuring shit for Noah’s wedding. It’s not even me getting hitched and it’s a pain in my ass.

  "Leave him alone Tuck. He can’t defend himself since Cindy’s got his balls." Noah chimes.

  "Oh, you wanna join in too Travers? I seem to remember a picture a certain blondie sent me last Halloween." I raise an eyebrow and the color drains from his face. Take that fucker!

  "Wait, what pictures?" Tucker asks.

  I mouth to him that I'll send it to him later while the old dude that smells like Dr Pepper runs the measuring tape up his inside leg.

  Noah shuts his mouth - thank fuck. I’m pretty sure it’s because he doesn’t want me bringing up him dressed as Peter fucking Pan. Yeah, that’s right, seems Noah here's got a thing for tights. Fucking pussy. And he thinks Cindy’s got my balls? I'd do a lot of things for my dark haired beauty but it'll be a cold day in hell before she gets me wearing tights.

  "So, Tuck." I slap ole' Tuck on the back. "You pick any chicks up from that shitfest they called a barbecue?"

  I know full well he didn’t. H h e’s been pouting like a damn woman the last few days because of it. Seems the cougars of Franklin ain’t digging Tucker. Who’d have thought it?

  "I got more chance of picking some pussy up at the old folk’s home." Man, that’s an image I don’t need in my head. "You'd think a bunch of gold-diggers would be wanting a decent lay but nope. I swear I haven’t been that disappointed since finding out who A is."

  "Fucking hell Tucker, when did you turn into a woman?" Noah says, his face covered in disgust. I’m not sure if it’s at the old folk’s home comment or the tv show.

  "What? It’s a damn good show. You wouldn’t believe who it was thou-"

  "Spoilers!" I yell. "I haven’t got that fucking far yet so keep that shit to yourself."

  "You too?" Noah sneers.

  "Hell yeah." Tucker high fives me.

  Damn straight I watch Pretty Little Liars. Those girls are badasses. Plus, one of them looks kinda like Cinders so it was good for me when we were apart. I don’t tell these guys that shit though. I've already got Agent Fucktard over there spouting shit about stalking.

  I wait for the other two to finish having themselves felt up. Why we can’t just do what regular people do and wear the same old shit that’s in our closet I'll never know. Mrs. P's in charge of this shindig though so what she says goes. I never would have thought that such a t i u ny ass woman could be so damn bossy. Forget bridezilla, she’s a momzilla.

  Hey, if Deena or my Mom decide to go all crazy for mine and Cindy’s wedding, I think I'll be grabbing my woman and heading to Vegas. We could be married by the King himself.

  Just thinking of me and my Cinders getting married has got me smiling like a lovesick fool. She'd look sexy as fuck in a wedding dress. She could have one of those thingymajigs on her thigh too, the lacy ribbon shit I peel off with my mouth. Damn, I better get my thoughts under control. I don’t need the guys seeing big Brady downstairs, that would be all kinds of awkward.

  Just thinking of Cindy has me wanting to see her though. It’s been a couple of days since I saw her. After we christened the bed of my truck, we watched the fireworks, wrapped in a blanket I kept tucked away. Having her in my arms again was fucking heaven. I couldn’t even focus on the lights covering the sky. All I could think about was how much I loved her. I didn’t tell her that shit though because let’s face it, last time I mentioned that it didn’t exactly go well. So I kept my feelings to myself and took everything in from the way her hair smells like strawberry’s to the way her breath hitched every time the sky lit up.

  Of course after we were done, I peeled her out of that tight as sin dress and got me some more lovin'. This time it wasn’t so much a race to finish and I could take my time with her. I could savor her. Like I said before victory never tasted so sweet, and neither did Cindy.

  I whip my phone outta my pocket and scroll through my messages. We've been texting but with Mrs. P and Liv riding her ass about the wedding and shit and my best man duties, we haven’t had the time to see each other. I can’t exactly go climbing through her bedroom window anymore, not with that scary as fuck kid sleeping on the bunk above her.

  That’s another thing I gotta sort out. I’m in a big ass King size bed alone and she’s sharing with her little sister. I gotta straighten that shit out. Cinders should be with me.

  Not finding any new texts, I pull her name up and start tapping out a message. No way can I go another day without seeing her. I don’t care what shit she says. I’m seeing her tonight. The one eyed snake has already been awoken; he needs some attention!

  Pik u up at 6 x

  That should do it. I know by now there’s no point asking with Cinders. She'll just try and get her tight little ass out of it. A pussywhipped guy once said that sometimes you just gotta steamroll them. That pussywhipped guy is about to get married so I figure I'll listen to his advice just this once as long as he doesn’t find out about it. I don’t need to be listening to his old ass in fifty years reminding me about the single time he was right about something.

  My phone vibrates in my hand with an incoming message. Even though I just text her, the sight of her name filling up the screen causes my stomach to go fucking crazy. I wonder if that'll ever stop because at this rate, I'll end up some kinda ulcer or some shit.

  Wot for? xx

  I guarantee she’s probably running a round that house like a fucking headless chicken right now. I shoot her a reply.

  Taking you out ;) x

  I stare at the phone in my hands for a few minutes willing for there to be another buzz. A shit eating grin spreads across my face when it does and I see what it says.

  Ok xx

  Damn, looks like my Cinders is finally learning that I ain’t taking no for an answer. About time too.

  "Oh shit man, he’s got that look again." I see Noah nudge Tucker. They’re like damn women I tell ya.

  "You'd think considering I say what happens at your bachelor party, you'd be nicer to me." I lean closer, ready to put the kibosh to this bullshit. "You can either have that pansy party you wanted with no strippers or any of the good shit or you can get tied to the freaking lamppost on main street with your ass hanging out."

  "It’s gonna be your bachelor party one day too you know." He narrows his eyes.

  "Dude, It’s not a bachelor party with no strippers so can we please stop calling it that." Tucker throws his hands up in the air, still sore over the no stripper rule Liv and Noah agreed on.

  If I’m honest, I couldn’t give two fucks if Noah has some half naked bimbo gyrating all over him. Hell, I’d prefer if
I didn’t have to see that shit. I don’t need to be having nightmares.

  "Fuck off Tuck! I got respect for my woman."

  "I got respect for women too. I got respect for all women. Skinny women, curvy women, blonde women, redheaded women, I got respect for them all. I wouldn’t turn down a damn stripper for one though. I mean, have you seen some of the getups they got? I watched a video of a stripper that was dressed up like that chick out of Avatar. It was on a whole other level."

  "One day you're gonna find the one man, and I cannot fucking wait because the amount of sh-"

  "Ladies, ladies." I decide to take on the role as peacemaker and calm this situation we got going on down. "As much as this debate is fascinating, you think we can walk and talk because this ain’t how I expected to spend my Tuesday."

  "Because you’re so busy." Noah says, rolling his eyes. Jackass can be as sarcastic as he likes, it just means I won’t be so guilty sticking his pansy ass Peter Pan pictures all over town.

  "Actually, I am. Got your bachelor party to plan for. I sure hope you got your injections and shit. Oh, and make sure you bring your passport." I quip, feeling a vibration in my pocket.

  Ignoring Noah’s ugly ass face, I pull my phone out only to have it plucked outta my hands.

  "Hey, what the fuck man!"

  "Say you’re not gonna fuck me over." Noah holds the phone above his head. The lanky ass is taller than me. I’d need a fucking chair to get it.

  "No can do fucker." I grind out. "I’m gonna tie your naked ass to a pole and stick an All's Welcome sign on it."

  "No phone for you then, dick." Another buzz sounds out and the dickhead has the nerve to look up into the screen. "Looks like you won’t get back to Cindy."

  "Name your terms motherfucker." I say through gritted teeth. Shoulda known he'd pull the Cindy card.

  "No strippers, no pranks, no tying my naked ass to a pole, no putting me on a plane to fucking nowhere and no deserting me."

  "Hey, wait there." Tucker butts in. "No pranks? No strippers? What is this, a tea party?"

  "Brady? Deal or no deal?"

  I stare between him and Tucker. One pair of eyes pleading, the other knowing they've won.

  "Deal." I sigh.

  "Swear on your left ballsack." Fuck! Looks like there’s no getting outta this.

  "I swear on my left ballsack."

  "Well, here you go then." The bastard passes my phone back to me, a smirk on his face. What an asshole! "By the way, whose Bobby Bitchface?"

  I look down at the screen to see the name I've set for Bob flashing. Two texts and a missed call. Great.

  "You fucking shitstain, you knew Cindy hadn’t text!" I’m gonna kick his ass. Fuck being Horiche’s bitch, I'll take it.

  "Ain’t that a damn shame. So who is it?"

  "Bob."

  I look down at the message and frown. What the hell?

  Meet me at the home office. One hour. Don’t be late.

  ***

  "YOU CAN’T FUCKING FIRE ME, I QUIT!" I scream like a damn woman. My voice is all high and shit and I’m about five seconds from smashing Bob's wrinkled old face into the glass desk.

  "Now Brady, calm down."

  "You take that shit back." I hiss out, my teeth grinding together. "You make sure it’s on fucking record that I quit."

  "Please sit down and we can discuss this like adults. You acting li k e a five-year-old isn’t helping the situation." Bob folds his hands on the desk.

  "The situation is that you're firing me when I quit." I lean over and point in his face. "Fuck you, Bob. Fuck you if you think you're firing me. I was gonna quit. I was gonna fucking quit goddamnit." I wasn’t gonna quit, the money is easy and the work is even easier, but I'd rather chew my own leg off than admit that.

  I slam my hand on the desk. Holy shit that fucking hurt. It hurts so fucking much I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself screaming out. That would so not be a good look right now when I’m trying to make a dramatic exit. I look down at the table to see the glass splintered. It’s a spider’s web of cracks, probably like the bones in my damn hand.

  I shoulda known this meeting wouldn’t be good when I saw my Mom in the kitchen. That woman hasn’t stepped foot in any kitchen since at least 2002. Her shoes were clicking on the floor as she walked around like she didn’t know what the fuck was going on. She probably didn’t know what the difference was between the toaster and the coffee machine.

  Of course I ignored all the weird ass signs pointing to the fact that the world was basically going to shit. I mean if my Mom in a kitchen isn’t a sign of the impending apocalypse, I don’t know what is. I walked right on into Bob's office, I was in a good mood too. I even kept the snarky comment about the chandelier to myself. Who the fuck has a chandelier in an office anyway? Right above the desk too like he’s the president or some shit.

  I sat down nicely on the leather armchair, plastered a fake ass smile across my face. I even refrained from calling him by one is many nicknames, you know, douchebag, bastard, dickhead, asshole, jackass. Yeah, I kept that shit to myself. If that ain’t self-control I don’t know what is.

  Then that motherfucking douchebag asshole laid it on me. He was fucking firing me. Apparently I ’m was “lazy, immature and taking advantage of the opportunity he gave me”. What fucking opportunity? I copy spreadsheets and shit when I can be bothered and get paid a couple hundred bucks a week for the effort which is rarely even that. H h e’s hardly Trump, this ain’t the fucking Apprentice!

  If the guy hadn’t caught me at a weak moment at Christmas, tired as fuck from classes and pretty damn miserable, I wouldn’t have taken his shitty ass job in the first place. Hell, if he hadn’t taken advantage of my weak moment, I'd still be living in LA with Cinders. We would never have broken up. We'd still be together. So basically, the douchebag and his opportunity ruined my life.

  That realization has another wave of anger passing through me.

  "I’m gonna kick your ass." I say, completely straight faced and with a voice too calm. I don’t know why I've got the sudden urge to knock him out, but I feel like I deserve that shit.

  "Now Brady-" His voice trails off when the sound of clicking reaches us.

  "Oh, look who it is." I grimace. "Might as well make this bullshit meeting a family one."

  The door swings open and my Mom, in her white pencil dress totters in. Her fake look of concern doesn’t faze me. There’s no way she didn’t know what this asshole was gonna do. I’m not saying she supported it but she didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. Just like always, Rachel Cooper rolled over for her stupid ass husband and let her son suffer the consequences. Fuck that shit. I ain’t a kid anymore.

  "What is going on here?" She puts her hands on her hips and looks between us. "I could hear yelling from the kitchen." She serious right now? She’s seriously gonna pretend she doesn’t know.

  "Brady and I were just discussing a few things, Rachel. Everything’s fine."

  "Brady?" She looks to me as if I'll give her an answer. Her eyebrows are raised. Well they’re as raised as possible, the botox is probably cracking.

  "I’m outta here." I give them both a dirty ass look and head towards the open door. "You really are fucking perfect for each other. The douchebag millionaire and the absentee mother, like a damn movie." I throw the words over my shoulder just before slamming the door behind me so hard the wall shakes.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I just lost the only income I got. I just lost the only job I ever had.

  "BRIAN!" I yell, knowing he’s probably asleep somewhere. It’s such a big ass house I’m surprised the little guy doesn’t get lost in it.

  I hear his claws scratching against the hardwood floors. It’s as good as sticking a damn bell on his collar. He turns the corner from the living room, his feather duster swinging from side to side.

  "You," I point at him. “should have shit on that jackass instead of pissing on him."

  I get a head tilt in reply and walk towards him, g
rabbing him up off the floor and tickling that spot behind his ear. Other than Cinders, Brian’s the only one that can calm me.

  I need to get out of here before either of those two come out. I’m sure my Mom doesn’t want me tackling her husband to the floor and my patience concerning her is pretty much hanging on by a thread right now.

  I’ve never been one to drink the pain away because let’s face it, with genes like mine that'd be pretty damn stupid. Right now I need to just dull the urge to barge back in there and say my piece. Keeping Brian nestled under one arm, I pat the outside of my pockets, feeling for my keys, wallet and phone. I head towards the door just as I hear my Mom's voice shouting something at Bob.

  I got another few hours before I pick Cindy up so that’s more than enough time for one or two beers to relax me. I may not have a job and I may not have a college education, but at least I've still got my dark haired beauty. Nothing else matters but that.

  Chapter 14

  Cindy

  "Stop hiding." I tell my reflection in the bathroom mirror, looking between that and the text on my phone.

  Taking you out ;) x

  What do I say to that? That I can’t go because I don’t know if I'll be able to control myself and not rip his shirt from his back?

  I groan and bury my face in my hands. I’m a floozy. I’m a slut. I had sex with my ex-boyfriend in the bed of his truck without a condom and acted like some kind of stripper, grinding and panting.

  Will I ever be able to be around Brady and not completely lose my mind? That’s what I’m blaming the whole thing on. Temporary insanity. Technically, it’s half true because his kiss definitely drove me crazy. Just the memory of it has heat rushing through my body. And his hands! God those hands are talented. I’m not even gonna mention his mouth because I’m pretty sure there's not a high enough dial on the air con to cool me down.

  I look up from the p a l m of my hands again and and take a good look at myse l f . My hair’s the same ebony color it’s always been. My skin’s the same creamy white it’s always been, not even the hot Georgia sun effecting it other than leaving a red rash on my shoulders. My eyes though, they’re definitely different. They're wide and sparkly and full of life rather than the miserable ones I've been seeing in the mirror for the past six months. Gone are the dark circles from attempting to sleep on a fold out couch covered in sharp springs. Gone is the pure torture that was always reflected back at me. I’m happy. I’m actually frickin' happy.