Not Brady. Brady raised his eyes and saw my shock. He reacted quickly, tucked his shoulder, and rolled off the bed. He picked me up and threw me on the bed and landed on top before I had time to scream. His hand slammed down over my mouth before it ripped from my throat.
"You punched me!" Brady accused me as his eyes danced.
I shoved him back—I tried to shove him back. He held firm and tucked my arms above my head. I was trapped as he stared down at me.
"What?" I huffed, out of breath.
"You punched me. Why'd you punch me?"
"Because."
Brady dissolved in laughter. He tucked his forehead into the crook of my shoulder and stayed there with my hands trapped in his above my head. I was hyper aware of every miniscule inch of his body that was on top of mine.
He settled so he was more comfortable. "Only you. Only you, Rayray."
"Uh…" My hands were still captive underneath his, but his thumbs softened and caressed my wrists. Then he lifted his head and stared down at me. He was searching for something inside of me, something that I couldn't tell him.
"What?" My voice was husky now.
He shook his head, his eyes were sober.
"What?"
"I…" He held back. He had never held back before.
I gritted my teeth. "What?"
Startled, he released my hands, but he rolled away to sit on the edge of the bed with his elbows braced on his knees. I moved with him and sat with one leg tucked behind him. I wanted to rest my cheek against his back, I wanted so badly, but I held back. I needed to know what was going on inside of him first.
"What is it?"
Brady shrugged his tight shoulders.
That's when I placed a hand on his back and felt his muscles jerk in response. "What is it? Tell me."
Brady shook his head.
"Brady." I needed him and I needed him to tell me what was going on.
"I…—don't know what to do, okay?"
My heart pounded in my chest. My lungs constricted my air, but it didn't matter. There was no going back now. I rested my cheek against his back. "What do you mean?"
Brady stiffened, but he didn't move away. "I—you and me. Sex. I don't know what to do."
I wrapped my arms around him and after a moment, Brady tucked them tighter. He entwined his fingers with mine. "I want to know what to do, but I don't. I just know that I can't lose you."
I closed my eyes. I couldn't lose him either. "You won't."
"Promise?"
I felt a tear at the corner of my eye. "Promise."
Brady relaxed, but we hadn't settled anything. We were best friends. We couldn't replace the other. That was all that'd been settled.
"You know—" Brady cut himself off and stood.
I caught myself before I fell behind him.
"I—" He stopped again, ran a hand through his hair, and paced from my dresser, the bed, the window, and the closet. I moved to sit against the headboard and curled up underneath the blanket. As I watched him pace, restless, I closed my eyes for a moment, just a moment, because I could smell him on my pillowcase.
"I changed my mind." He stopped to stare at me.
My eyes snapped open and I knew that he wasn't even seeing me. He was seeing something else.
"About what?"
"I'm going to Cumberly's. You want to go?" Brady pinned me down with his eyes.
"Uh—" I froze. "I…don't know, Brady."
"Come on." He sat on the edge of my bed and caught one of my hands. His thumb rubbed the inside of my palm. "Please? You'll keep me from getting in trouble."
‘Or we’ll get in more trouble.’
"Please, please," Brady whispered and bent his forehead to rest against mine.
‘Oh no.’
I felt his breath on my cheeks and found myself weakening. "…okay…"
He flashed a smile before he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and forehead. "Thanks, Ray." His cheek rested on my forehead for a moment, just a quick moment, before he pushed off. "I'm going to sneak home first. Meet me at the car in thirty minutes."
He threw open my window and swept out. I sat down with a thump.
We'd been in our own little conclave and the phone rang. We weren't going to the party. We were safe in our world. Now we were going. What had just happened?
I stared at my closet. I was back at square one. I had no idea what to wear.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Everyone knew where Clarissa Cumberly lived. Her dad was the one and only town's dentist. He owned the mansion that stood elegant and statuesque as it looked over Lake Parley and the Northshire Folk Golf Course. It was a ten minute drive, most of it over gravel roads, but Brady sped twenty mph over the speed limit. When we got closer, both sides of the road were lined with cars.
He pulled into Clarissa’s driveway and headed toward the opened garage where people stood with cups in their hands. Matt Krone, another football player, waved when he saw Brady at the steering wheel, and jerked his head to the sixth garage door.
Brady nodded. A moment later, the door lifted so he could pull in.
I hadn't realized that I snorted until Brady asked when he turned off the engine, "You got a problem?"
Where did I start? "You have your own parking spot?"
"What?" Brady shrugged a tight shoulder, but a smirk appeared. "Henry Cumberly likes me."
"Yeah, right. Dr. Cumberly."
"I caddied for him in eighth grade."
That's when he started caddying for the dentist's daughter, but in a whole other way.
I had hated Brady that summer. "Maybe I'll get drunk tonight.”
"You don't drink."
He turned toward me and his hand could've rested on my shoulder, but he let it hang from the seat. I glanced at his fingers for a moment. They were strong, but the symbol on the inside of Brady's wrist was where my gaze lingered. It was the Hebrew symbol for faith. I hadn't been there when Brady had gotten it, but it always hurt that he wouldn't explain why he'd gotten it. Maybe there was a reason for that.
Maybe it was the same reason why I glared at him and folded my arms across my chest. "Maybe I should start."
Brady lifted an eyebrow. "We both know what happened the first and only time you've drank."
I narrowed my eyes. "That tractor was going anyway. Just because I'd had a few doesn't mean that's why it rolled."
"Rayna," Brady smirked. "...you were three sheets to the wind. And yes, you rolled the tractor all on your own. The tractor didn't roll itself. And let's not forget who took the blame."
I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks got hot.
"Hey!" Matt Krone rapped his knuckles on the window. "You two getting out or what? I've got a brewsky for you, Brady."
Just like that, my best friend flashed his trademark smile and threw open the door. I was slower, but when I came around to the driver's side, he already had two bottles in his hands and three football players surrounded him. Brady was loved. We all knew that. Everyone else saw the flash, but I was the only one who saw his eyes harden with a warning when our gazes locked.
With a sniff, I turned my back and went inside.
The kitchen had a sink made of marble and the keg right beside it, inside a decorated plastic pool. As I caught sight of another cooler in the dining room, I headed in that direction. And just as I bent down and retrieved a vodka drink, a pair of tan golden legs stopped right beside me. A lot of girls had pink frosted toenails, but my guess was on one person and I looked up to Clarissa. She had a smirk on her face that made her look even sexier, sultry even.
"Your boy is in rare form." Unlike my boring camisole and blue jeans, Clarissa wore a pink-frilled tank top over her miniskirt that rode low on her hips. Her hair had been curled and hung down her back from an elegant pony-tail.
I gulped, self-conscious, as my fingers raised and felt my own hair. I had put it up in a braid, but I knew I'd never be as glamorous as Clarissa Cumberly.
"Yeah."
"Loo
k, you're on duty tonight. Do not let him get out of hand. I don't want Deputy Dog coming here." She flicked her eyes over my shoulder. The look switched to a warm welcome when I heard Brady's voice fill the house, followed by a mass of hellos, cheers, and catcalls in the air.
Brady Remington had arrived.
"He looks good," Clarissa murmured underneath her breath.
I turned and had to agree.
The ripped jeans accentuated his bad boy image, but it was the tight black tee shirt and the tattoo covering his left arm that sealed the deal. With his hair gelled into tiny spikes, Brady looked adorable on one hand and dangerous on the other.
"Listen…" Clarissa shifted closer. "Kid and his cousin might be coming tonight. If they do, I don't care whose skirt Brady's in, keep him distracted so that the guys can get rid of them, okay?"
I shrugged, but it didn't matter. She'd given the order and I was expected to jump. As I watched her move off to greet him, I knew that I'd do what was best for Brady. As Clarissa arched her head up for a kiss from him, I turned and twisted open my drink.
I had my first taste of alcohol in five years.
I scrunched up my nose in surprise. It tasted like lemonade, but with a slight kick to it. Smiling, I realized that I might enjoy these drinks. Maybe I would get drunk…no. I had no intentions of getting drunk. I just wanted a reaction from Brady and it worked, but he looked like he no longer cared, smiling down Clarissa's top as she was pressed against his chest.
I rolled my eyes and took another drink. And I kept sipping on it as I moved around the house. Anything larger than my grandparent's two stories impressed me. By the time I found the stairs that led to the basement, I was surprised to find my lemonade empty so I passed by the cooler and grabbed another one. Brady was in the kitchen, but I ducked around a group and headed down the stairs.
Silence. No one was down there. It was wonderful.
When I circled around the stairs, I found my heaven. A bookcase travelled the entire length of the wall…and it was filled, overly filled, with books.
I sank down on one of the leather couches, dazed, as I could only stare at the books. Historical textbooks. Encyclopedias. Romance novels. Mystery novels. Cookbooks. There were books on every subject from gardening to astronomy. I shot out from the couch and grabbed as many as I could. Before long, the books were piled all around me. Some were on the couch. Some were on the floor. Some were on the counter beside the couch. Some were even on the other couches. My only regret, as I groaned when I lifted the bottle, was that my lemonade was empty again.
I paused from my reading, glanced upwards and weighed the options. I could sneak up and grab more, but something might happen. I'd get stuck up there. Or I could stay and enjoy reading sans lemonade. The Dinosaurs of Pre-Extinction or a refreshing taste of lemonade?
Call me a blossoming lush. I was going for another lemonade. Just another thing on my list to confess the next day, but He'd forgive me. Let's hope. When my foot touched the stairs I heard muffled laughter behind the door.
I wavered.
The Mussaurus might not be the actual smallest dinosaur in the world, but with the lemonade I wouldn't care. I'd still vote for the mouse lizard.
"Yo, man!"
"Brady—oh my effing God, man!"
My fingers clenched around the wooden stair rail when I heard Brady's muffled laugh through the door. Here we were, best friends, and where was I? Where was he? Not in the same room, that was for sure. Then the door flew open and Matt Krone stumbled above the stairs. He readied himself and squinted down at me. "I win, dude. I found her!" Laughing, he pointed at me and someone pounded him on the shoulder. Three more drunken faces peered over his shoulder and then Brady pushed them out of the way. He crossed his arms. "Whatcha doing, Ray?"
Clarissa poked her head around the door. "My dad's book collection is down there. I bet she was reading."
"My girl wouldn't choose books over me…would she?"
As I passed by him, I replied under my breath, "You tell me."
Brady stopped chuckling and shot me a dark look.
Clarissa laughed. "You should be asking who'd choose books over drinking. That's what you should be asking." The rest of the party agreed as a chorus sounded out with raised cups.
Brady tucked an arm around my waist and pulled me snug against him. Lowering his head, he breathed into my ear, "We're playing a game. Come play with us. It'll be fun."
The tension between us was thick and it had started before the party. I wasn't really sure where it came from, but Brady didn't seem inclined to address it. I knew why I was hurt by him, but I wasn't sure why he seemed angry with me.
Clarissa fell into step beside me. "Yeah, Rayan. We're playing P and A. We've got room for one more."
"It's Rayna," Brady corrected, a bit too fierce for the party cheer.
Clarissa stopped and blinked. She studied him for a second before she shrugged. "I know. I just thought the name was cool."
Without a response, he led the way through the crowd.
"Sorry." Clarissa turned to me.
"For what?"
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bit her lip. "I just—it's like a nickname, you know. It wasn't meant…I wasn't trying to be mean or anything."
"Can I call you Clary?"
She looked horrified. "Hell no!"
It might've been the two lemonades, but I never thought that I'd see Clarissa Cumberly, Princess of Northshire Folk, look sheepish. "I really like the lemonade stuff."
"Huh?"
"Your things in that cooler. I like those."
"Oh." Clarissa looked confused for a moment. "I'll get you some more." As Clarissa darted towards the cooler, I squared my shoulders and headed towards Brady's corner. I'd play P and A with the best of them. I just had to get through a ton of immovable drunks first. When I got there, I wasn't sure who was the most unsure about our situation, me or them. Brady sat to my right and throughout the game, he'd rest his hand on my leg at moments. I jumped every time, which earned me crazy points with the others. He stifled his laughter every time and Clarissa watched with narrowed eyes.
When a seven was laid, I quickly threw my seven on top. "I'm out! I win…right?" I turned to Brady. I hardly won anything.
He choked back his laughter, but patted my head. "You won, Rayray. You did well."
I giggled and reached for my drink.
"Dude, she didn't—" one of the guys started to say, but Brady growled. The guy shut up and I finished my drink.
And then he stood up, ignored the protests, and hauled me with him. "I think it's time we got some fresh air. Don't you think, Rayna?"
I held my empty bottle up. "Empty. Another one, please?"
"Ah no. I don't think so. You've had enough. How many have you had?"
I frowned, tried to count with my fingers and gave up. A dark look flashed in his eyes, but he took my hand and turned towards the back patio door. A path opened for us through the crowd, and just as we stepped through the door, Clarissa called out. She sauntered up with two of my lemonades in her hand and a beer in her other. "Where are you going?"
Brady tucked me behind him. "Going for a walk. Why?"
Her eyes danced between the two of us, but she held her hand out and offered the drinks. "These are for your girl. She likes 'em."
"What? No. I don't think so…" Brady started until I snatched them away. His eyebrows went high.
Clarissa patted him on the chest. "She's a grown girl, Brady. Let her be a grown-up.”
"Yeah. I'm a grown-up. In fact, you know how grown up I am—"
"We're going to go." Brady rushed out and pulled me down the path. We went past some trees that blocked us from her view before we heard the door shut again.
"Her place is huge!" I exclaimed as I tripped. He caught me and righted me, but let go with a hand on the small of my back. I'd never admit it, but I loved when he touched me there. I felt safe and protected.
"You weren't kidding, huh?"
"Huh?"
"You said you were going to get drunk. You did."
It took a moment, but I realized that Brady was tense. His jaw was clenched and his shoulders tight. "Are you mad at me?" How could he be? This was his element. He always got drunk.
"No, you just said that…never mind. I didn't think you'd get drunk, Rayna. It's not something you do."
I drew up short. "Are you disappointed in me?" He had no place to be disappointed. He always went out partying. I got drunk once and he was disappointed?
"No. I'm not saying that…" But he was. I saw it in his eyes. His hand fell away.
"Oh no, buddy boy. You do not pull this. I didn't even want to come here, but I did—for you!"
"Well…"
"You're mad at me because I did something that I don't normally do. I don't understand you, Brady. I thought you wanted me to be friends with your friends. That was happening in there, kind of. Even Clarissa's being friendly. How can you—what is wrong with that? You can't have me come to a party and not enjoy myself. I can't be there JUST for you."
"That's not what I'm saying. Not at all." His eyes started to sparkle in anger.
"You wanted me to loosen up. You wanted me to come to the party. You want me…I don't know anymore. I don't know what you want. I can't make you happy. I'm tired of it. I don't fit in with this group. You know it and I wonder if you prefer it. Why'd you even bring me along?"
His fingers wrapped around my arm. "What are you talking about?"
I closed my mouth, but I already started. I might as well finish. "I think sometimes you're embarrassed by me because I'm not 'cool' enough to be your friend."
Brady threw his head back. "You're my best friend. How can you say that?"
"I'm not like Clarissa. I'm not beautiful. I'm not sexy. I can't…I can't be what I'm not, Brady."
He jerked me against him, but gentled immediately. Taking a deep breath, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Then he whispered as he bent to rest his forehead against mine, "You are my family, my best friend. I wouldn't be here without you, Rayray. I'd be in jail. And trust me; you are way hotter than Clarissa."
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