"Noah's Dad?" I interrupt.
"Yes, they were best friends in high school. Anyway, he wanted to start a family and I wanted that too. I wanted to go to college first though. I wanted to get a good job, work in the city and experience life before we had a bunch of babies. He wouldn’t listen though, he kept pretending it wasn’t happening and putting the conversation off. Every time I’d bring it up he'd sweep it under the rug and change the subject. The thing is sweetie, there’s only so many times you can sweep things under the rug before the rug just doesn’t cover it anymore and everything is laid bare. That’s what happened with us. I’d had enough and we ended up getting into a huge fight and broke up. I thought it was easily fixable after cooling down. All we needed was to have a good talk, to communicate. Your Dad went off the radar though. He avoided me at school, was never at home when I called and spent a month avoiding me. I wasn’t done with the relationship and neither was he but he couldn’t see past his hurt feelings, couldn’t stop seeing the bad side of everything and just talk to me. We spent six weeks, both heartbroken and utterly miserable before I finally trapped him in his house."
"You trapped Dad in his house."
"Uh huh. I locked him in the bathroom and forced him to listen to me. If he hadn’t avoided me for all those weeks we both wouldn’t have spent the last month and a half upset and angry and if he'd have just listened to me and tried to talk to me at the time, we probably wouldn’t have got into the fight in the first place."
"I don’t see what this has to do with me and Brady." I shrug, purposely ignoring the similarities between my parent’s situation and my own.
"You and Brady are exactly the same. You may not have the same personalities but you do have the same flaws. You do the same as your Dad avoiding conflict and hiding from the truth until it explodes. Brady lives in a dream world and doesn’t take anything seriously until he doesn’t have a choice. Tell me something, have you been happy being apart from Brady?"
"Well... no." I sigh.
"Do you know what he did when you two broke up? He knocked on this door and cried. He told me what happened and cried because he lost you. For weeks he called me daily, asking if I heard from you. He eventually worked up the courage and planned on going to LA to win you back until I told him you'd moved. He begged me for your new address but I felt that that would be a betrayal of your trust so I refused to give it him. While you were miserable, he was too. He waited for you to come back."
The thought of Brady pining of me and crying just as I did for him breaks my heart. I know how much pain I've been in. Has he been in the same?
"I had no idea." I say in a small voice, almost a whisper.
"Have you two talked?"
"No." I look down, avoiding the sight of my Mom rolling her eyes.
"Are you going to?"
"I-I don’t-"
"That boy loves you and I know you love him too. I listened to you on the phone and I could hear your voice, how tired it sounded. My little girl was heartbroken and I felt utterly powerless. Talk to him Cindy. See if it’s salvageable because a love like you two have doesn’t come around every day. Don’t let it go."
I sit silently as my Mom turns back a round to the stove and carries on as she was before I came in. Her words echo in my head. Can I really let Brady in again? Can I really risk the heartbreak? My Moms right about one thing if nothing else, a love like ours doesn’t come a round every day.
***
Half an hour ago I would have let out a squeal on hearing the knock at the door. I'd have been jumping up and down, giddy and excited that Brady was here. I was more than ready to have the talk with Brady, to put all my cards on the table and finally face up to everything. He just had to screw that up though. And by screw it up I mean be an hour late. Yep a whole sixty minutes late. Not a call. Not a text. Not even a frigging smoke signal all while I sat in my burgundy skater dress and grey peep toe wedges receiving looks of pity from Avery like I’m the biggest loser in the world. I’m not a violent person, quite the opposite, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready to go all high school on my sister and get into a catfight on the front lawn. Yes, I’m probably taking my anger with at Brady out on everybody else but I’m the girl all dressed up with no place to go - I’m entitled to it.
I walk towards the door throwing evil glares at it as if it’s the problem and not the ass standing at the other side continuously knocking. I pull it open with more force than is needed, banging it into my shoulder. Seriously, how does someone hit themselves with a door? Only me. This stuff could only happen to me.
Brady leans against the door frame with a panty dropping smile on his face.
"Cinders, you look delicious." Brady smirks, his eyes blinking rapidly.
I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows. Brian’s nestled under his arm and I struggle to ignore how hot it is. The cute little guy couldn’t be any more out of place than in Brady's strong muscled arms. They’re tanned from the Georgia sun, the dusting of hair that covers them a light blonde. I take a deep inhale in a bid to gain some composure, to not go off at the deep end and become a crying, shouting mess. I inhale what I expected to be some fresh air, the smell of freshly mown grass or even Brady’s signature Pac c o Rabanne aftershave. Instead, I inhale the overpowering smell of beer.
"Have you been drinking?" I ask, wrinkling my nose.
"A little." He holds his forefinger and thumb close together, stumbling a little at the movement of his arm. A little? Yeah right.
"Are you serious right now? You text me saying you're gonna pick me up and you turn up late and drunk?"
"I’m not late." He frowns. "I’m early."
"It’s seven. You were meant to pick me up at six. I've been waiting around since six for you to show."
"It’s seven?" He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and pulls his phone out. "Shiiiit, it’s seven."
"Yep."
"I’m late." He slurs, eyes wide.
"Yep."
"Fuck I’m drunk." He groans, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.
"Yep."
"I fucked up." He looks at me warily, his eyes barely open.
"Oh yeah." I cock a hip and hope I’m giving him a sassy look. I've watched Liv give it to Noah and it usually works with getting him to toe the line. I don’t think Brady even knows where the line is right now though. "Why are you drunk?"
"I had a bad day."
I hold my hands out, figuring it’s best if I take Brian since he’s probably getting drunk off his ass with the fumes Brady’s letting off. My hands sink into his soft fur and I restrain the urge to nuzzle my face in it. I’m trying to set a precedent here where I’m the Cindy that doesn’t take no shit. Going all gaga over the cutest little dog in the world wouldn’t give me the right look.
"You wanna treat?" I squeal. So much for not going all gaga. I challenge anyone who comes into contact with Brian not to completely fall for his fluffy coat and big bambi brown eyes though. Nobody would be able to resist. Except maybe Liv.
I look up from the cutest little bundle of fur in my arms and my eyes immediately meet Brady's chocolate pools. Probably the only other eyes that could rival Brian’s in keeping me captured. They look clearer as if he’s suddenly sobered up in the last thirty seconds.
"You look good with him Cinders." His voice is gravelly and deep as if something's caught in his throat. "I bet you'd look amazing with a baby."
"Yeah." I snort in the most unladylike way. He’s definitely drunk.
When I meet his eyes again, I expect to see some kind of humor, I expect the see the corners crinkle up with a restrained smile. They look completely serious though. No, it’s worse than that, way worse. He actually looks as if he’s seriously considering it.
I instinctively take a step back, tempted to kick him in his junk just to get that ridiculous idea out of his head. First Bailey, now Brady. What is it with people and babies? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were in cahoot
s. Actually scratch that, after the things I've learned today it’s entirely possible they are working together. Well they can work together on something else because it will be a good few years before a bun gets planted in this oven.
"Maybe you should come in." I turn quickly away, feeling a little paranoid over the whole baby comment.
Just as I’m about to step away, I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist before pulling me into a solid wall of muscle. His warm breath rolls over my ear, sending ripples of lust through me.
"Mmm you smell good." He buries his face into my neck and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself squealing like a baby pig. "Like strawberries."
"That’s nice." I say weakly. I’m a fool. I’m a stuttering fool. "You smell... interesting." Yeah, interesting like a brewery.
His hands cup my face and turn it round. He looks at me so intensely, his eyes flickering from my mouth to my eyes and back again. H h e’s gonna kiss me and there’s not a single thing I can or want to do about it. Even the smell of beer staining his breath isn’t enough to turn me away from his soft pink lips. They touch against mine in the softest gentlest kiss that has my eyes fluttering closed.
"Am I forgiven?" Brady mumbles, his face pulling away from my own by the tiniest fraction.
I lick my lips and swallow the spit that’s gathered in my mouth. Any chance I had at being Cindy that don’t take no shit flew out the window the moment his lips touched against mine. Damn him and his kissable mouth.
"What happened?" I whisper. I’m not willing to answer the question about forgiveness because then he'll just get even more cocky and I already feel like enough of a walkover.
His body goes rigid, as if the very thought of whatever sent him to drink is too much for his short temper to handle. I place Brian on the ground and he scuttles away towards the kitchen. He’s probably looking for a hiding place from Bailey. Luckily for him, my entire family minus Avery have headed out for dinner. I clutch Brady’s hand in mine and pull him into the den and over to the couch.
The whole baby comment seemed to sober him up some while it nearly sent me to the bottle. He’s more steady on his feet and his eyes aren’t as bloodshot.
"You want some water?" I ask.
He jerks his head in a nod and I leave him sitting on the couch, The Real Housewives of New Jersey on the TV in the background.
I rush around the Kitchen, getting glasses and a jug of water out of the fridge. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since lunch.
"You hungry?" I yell.
"Sure."
"Pizza?"
"Hell yeah."
I giggle at Brady’s answer, knowing he’s got a weakness for Meat Feast pizza. I pour us each a glass of water and pull a pile of pamphlets out of the drawer, thumbing through them until I come to a two for one offer at Papa Rayman’s.
After calling in our order, I take the drinks back into the den, finding Brady’s attention focused on the TV.
"Here you go." I pass him one of the glasses and sit next to him, our arms brushing. "So what happened?" I don’t get an answer, nod or even a shuffle of his body to show that he’s at least listening. "Brady? Brady?"
"Uh sorry. Hey that Teresa’s a bitch huh?"
"What?" I frown.
He jerks his head towards the TV and I roll my eyes. Typical, the entire time we lived together in LA he refused to watch any type of TV with me. I think the exact phrase he used was “It'll be a cold ass day in hell before you catch me watching any pussy ass show.”
"Brady," I tap him on the shoulder continuously until I gain his attention. "What happened today?"
"Oh that." He huffs. "Can’t it wait? I think they’re about to throw down."
I'd think he was trying to avoid the conversation i I f his eyes didn’t look so damn excited.
"No, you were an hour late and turned up on the doorstep drunk."
"I fucked up. I fucked up bad Cinders."
"What did you do?" I ask, my stomach plummeting.
Chapter 15
Brady
The color drains out of her face and her eyes are wide as fuck. She looks like she’s just seen someone get murdered or some shit. The ten beers I had today are seriously messing with my brain so it takes me a few seconds to get where she’s coming from.
"Oh no, I ain’t done nothing!" I rush out. I don’t miss the breath my dark haired beauty lets out takes . Shit, nearly gave my woman a heart attack then. "I just mean in general."
"Ok." She says warily. Probably scared I’m gonna throw something at her she won’t be able to handle. "Just start with today."
"I got fired but I swear I was gonna fucking quit."
"You work?" She frowns.
What the fuck?
"Yes I fucking work." I bite out.
"Are you sure?"
"I work for Bob. I do... spreadsheets and shit." I think. I know that I copy shit from one page to the other. I don’t think the job has an actual name though. Spreadsheeter? Spreader? Sheeter? I chuckle at that last one. The one before that was pretty funny too.
"Oh you still work for Bob, well not still but you know. So why did he fire you?"
Thinking about it now, that bastard never gave an excuse for why he fired me. That fucker just probably wanted me out the way. He's been wanting it for years, hardly even hid it.
"I don’t know." I shrug. "That bastards always had it out for me, you know that."
"Mmm."
"You look amazing you know." I look at her from head to toe. her seated from up and down.
Damn I got lucky with this one. Her hairs all straight and I just know that my hands would glide through it easy as fuck. Her skin looks a little different, more tanned.
"Thank you." She replies, ducking her head as a blush starts to spread from her neck upwards. It’s cute as fuck how bashful she is.
"You look..."
"Like shit." I answer for her with a chuckle.
I’m more sober now than I was on leaving the shitty ass bar I've spent most of the day in. Damn, you know you’re really fucking drunk when you can actually admit to it. I practically offered my keys to Pauly Wilcox. The old linebacker for our High School football team’s a cool guy even if he does work in a dive. He' s d saved my ass plenty of times in football practice and he didn’t even ID me when I stepped into the dump. I know he can be trusted to drop my baby back home even in my fucked up state.
Just as I’m thinking about it, I swear Cindy’s got some jedi mind skills by her next question.
"How'd you get here?" She asks, looking round the room as if my truck would 'd be parked in it.
"I walked. You remember Pauly, graduated a year before us? He works in that bar just off main street, the one with all those bikes outside. That’s where I was. I left my truck there and he’s gonna drop it off later tonight."
"Oh I’m glad. That’s nice of him. Wait, you actually walked?"
My girl knows me too well. She knows my stance on walking and shit. It’s for pussies. Fact.
"Yeah but I ran some of the way. I swear there was some kind of Doberman wearing a pink bow just up the street. Bitch was giving Brian bedroom eyes. Woulda been like Verne Troyer and Big Momma so I had to get outta there quick."
"Oh." My Cinders giggles, the sound like fucking music to my ears. "That'll be Mr. Donaughue's dog, Betsy."
"Ain’t that that creepy guy that’s always wearing pink?"
"Uh huh."
"Fuck. He come out the closet yet?" I ask.
"Nope."
Damn if that guys not gay I'll fucking eat my left foot. He’s the only guy in the world that has totally pink fucking Christmas lights. It’s as if he’s hoping Santa will take the hint and fill his stocking for Christmas if you know what I mean. I’m all for free loving, equal rights and other shit but that’s just messed up .
"Come here." I put an arm around Cindy, trying to get the fucked up thought of pink jumper wearing weirdos and camp Santa’s outta my head,
/> She’s back where she belongs at least. I don’t think I've ever felt so content until this moment. My girls in my arms, my dog ’ s... somewhere. Shit I hope he’s not peeing in Deena’s kitchen, that woman will have my balls. Where was I? Oh yeah and I've found my new favorite tv show. I've seen my girl get fiery even if she 'll den ies y it till she’s blue in the face but these Italians take it to a whole other level.
Who knew that overly tanned women with big ass hair could be so fucking vicious. I carry on watching the show, holding Cinders close and fully intending to check Netflix for the housewives of whatever it is later. Not even a knock at the door can convince me to drag my eyes away from the brawling broads.
There’s a nother knock at the door and Cindy pulls away. I’d be al l disappointed but right now there’s a table about to get flipped.
"Brady." I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to Cindy holding up a pizza. Mmm pizza.
"Holy shit when did that come and why didn’t you tell me?"
"You seemed a little into your show." She teases. Damn, I’m never gonna hear the end of this.
"I think we should make a deal Cinders. I'll watch this show with you every week or every night or whenever the hell it’s on and we keep it to ourselves. Nobody needs to know that I like... what's it called again?"
"Real Housewives of New Jersey." She replies with a roll of her eyes. "Eat your pizza before it gets cold.
I got her. I know I have. I don’t need her telling this shit to Noah and Tucker, those dudes don’t have good taste in TV and wouldn’t understand. Actually Tucker might, after all the dude watches Pretty Little Liars and that show is fucking ace.
I take a bite of the pizza and groan at the taste of crispy pepperoni. Now this is what I call a pizza. Full of meaty goodness.
I practically demolish the whole thing, grateful that Cindy had the sense to get her own cause I might love the girl but if she gets in between me and my pizza I may have to re - evaluate. Actually fuck that shit, I’d say they were about equal in my affections. I haven't eaten all day though and all that beers made me hungry so right now that probably comes slightly ahead.
Forever Together (Forever Love #2) Page 20