Caught Up in You

by Colee Firman

  I headed around the garage and into the pole barn. I’d never seen Brantley like that—hell, I didn’t even know she had it in her. I didn’t like leaving her with Misty, and I sure as hell didn’t want to lose track of her. For all I knew she may have been trying to get rid of me so she could take off.

  “Franco.” I glanced up from the red plastic cup I was filling at one of the kegs. Wyatt Dempsey was headed my way. He stopped next to me and crossed his arms. “Got a minute?”

  No. I actually didn’t—I needed to get back to Brant. “What’s up, man?”

  “Tommy mentioned you were—”

  Shouting over the music from outside made us both stand up straight. I tossed the beer and booked for the door. When I came around the garage I found Brantley and Misty right where I’d left them, only now they were inches apart screaming at each other.

  Every single name a decent guy wouldn’t dare call a girl was flying out of their mouths. I’d seen chicks about to thrown down before, but this was on a whole new level.

  I saw it coming before I heard the loud smack—Misty’s hand made contact with Brantley’s face, whipping her head to the side. If she hadn’t been a girl, I swear to god I would’ve knocked Misty’s fucking head off for laying a hand on her.

  When Brant turned her head back toward Misty, her fist came right along with it. She punched her square in the jaw, knocking the girl on her ass. By the time Wyatt and I cleared the thirty feet between us and them, she was on top of Misty, smacking the shit out of her.

  Brantley thrashed and kicked as Wyatt dragged her off. “Let go!”

  “Franco!” Wyatt yelled, slinging her at me. “Do something with her!”

  A murderous look flashed in her eyes as she tumbled against me. “Hell no!”

  Nothing about the situation was funny, but I couldn’t help smiling as I locked my arms around her. “Chill out, slugger.”

  “Back off, asshole!” She fought like hell to get away but I pinned her arms at her sides. That didn’t stop her from kicking at my shins and twisting to get free. Shit, she was putting up a better fight than Tucker had.

  “Let’s take a walk,” I said, picking her up and slinging her over my shoulder.

  Brantley called me every name in the book and pounded on my back as I carried her away. My laughter only seemed to piss her off more. I couldn’t help it—I’d never see her so wound up.

  The last thing I saw before I took Brant behind the pole barn was Livvy lunging at Misty. She nearly got her before Tom hooked her around the waist and dragged her away. Chick fights were always such a fucking mess. Oh well—I had my part of the problem slung over my shoulder with my hand planted firmly on her ass to keep her there—they could figure out the rest.

  “Put me down, dammit!” Brantley was still beating on my back—it didn’t hurt. I noticed she was only using one hand. I stopped walking once we were alone, but didn’t put her down. “Are you hurt?” She quit hitting me but didn’t say anything. After a few seconds I gave her ass a little squeeze. “Hey?”

  Still nothing—not even backtalk for the squeeze.

  “Brantley, are—”

  “Put me down, Myles.” Her voice was calm—eerily calm. Emotionless, just as it had been at the diner.

  Fuck. We were back to that again.

  Reluctantly, I leaned down and dropped Brantley to her feet. The outline of a hand on her cheek caught my eye. “We might end up with matching bruises for Christmas…”

  Brantley turned her back and took a few steps away. “I’m fine now. You need to go.”

  My shoulders involuntarily fell. I suddenly wished she’d just start hitting me again—anything was better than when she shut down.

  Thirty-One

  Brantley

  My freshly smacked face burned and my hand throbbed from punching Misty. I needed to get control of myself. I shouldn’t have been arguing with that skank—let alone fighting. When I saw her do a faceplant into Myles’ mouth I knew something bad was bound to happen. I should’ve just gone in the house and locked myself in my room.

  For the second time in one day I’d lost it—both times it was Myles’ fault. He shouldn’t even have been at the party. The guys saw him—Carter and Maverick looked right at him when he was coming up the driveway and didn’t say a word. Apparently the fact he’d rearranged their brother’s face two nights earlier was water under the bridge. Those guys really needed to learn how to hold a grudge.

  Now I was trapped. I’d told Myles to leave. Without even looking I knew he hadn’t budged. My entire body could feel the heat of his stare. God, I needed to get away from him while I still could.

  Just as I was about to turn around and demand Myles leave, he gently pressed a hand full of snow to the burning skin on my cheek. I crumpled against him at the instant relief. “Oh my god…”

  “That good, huh?” His arm slipped around waist and laughed softly in my ear. “How’s your hand?”

  He was too close. My body stiffened and I pulled away as much as I could with his arm still around my waist. I held my hand up and flexed it a few times, wincing from the pain. Not broken, but hurt like hell. “It’s ok...”

  “Liar.” Myles pulled me with him as he sat down on the ground. “Here…” He carefully took my throbbing hand and buried it in the snow. “That should help.”

  It did. It felt incredible. I gave up trying to push him away momentarily and closed my eyes, letting my body relax against is chest. “Thanks…”

  Why did he have to be so sweet and caring? I just wanted to be pissed off at him for coming back to town and shredding my life again. It was his fault my hand hurt and my insides were torn apart to begin with. Not to mention my break-up with Jonah.

  It was like Myles was only in Baylor Grove to twist the knife he’d jammed into my heart five months earlier. Things between Jonah and I may have been over, but I couldn’t forget the way Myles left. I couldn’t trust him. Even if he didn’t sneak away because of my past, he still walked away without a word.

  Myles scooped up a fresh handful of snow for my cheek and gently pressed it to my skin. “What were you doing fighting with her?”

  I sighed—good question. Normally I could blow off Misty’s little comments. Apparently I couldn’t when they involved Myles. “She doesn’t like me. She was saying shit to get under my skin—I couldn’t it take anymore.”

  “Shit about me?”

  I shrugged. “Some of it.” Most of it.

  Misty told me she and Myles used to hook-up in high school. She kept saying how hot he was and how she couldn’t wait to get in his pants again. I lost my mind thinking about him with her—or anyone else. He wasn’t mine, but I still hated thinking about him with another girl.

  “I didn’t come here with her, just for the record,” he said, lowering his chin to my shoulder. “She ambushed me while I was looking for you.”

  I already knew that. I’d watched him come up the driveway alone. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” I moved slightly, just enough to make him pick his head up. “Let’s face it—keeping me in the loop about what you’re doing isn’t one of your strengths anyway.”

  “Brant…” He took the snow pack away from my cheek leaned back on his hands. “I planned to tell you I was leaving. Hell, I was prepared to beg you to wait for me. Time just—”

  My phone began vibrating in my back pocket. I was sitting on his lap so I knew he could feel it. I was just going to ignore it, but Myles slipped his fingers between us and pulled it out. I felt his shoulders slump as he passed it to me.

  “The boyfriend,” he said, scooting out from underneath me and getting to his feet. “Nice picture…”

  I glanced at the image of Jonah and me from Jen’s wedding that popped up whenever he called. I quickly swiped my finger across the screen to ignore the call. Hell, it was after midnight and he was still blowing up my phone.

  I sighed when I saw Jonah had sent me a dozen text messages begging me to call him. I’d also miss
ed two calls from Jen. The only reason she could possibly be calling so late was if Jonah told her what was going on between us. Just one more reason to call it quits with him.

  In the morning when my head was clearer I’d call him back. He’d asked me if I would still go to his family’s Christmas party with him since they were expecting me. I knew he just didn’t want to explain what was going on between us. I didn’t blame him.

  Ending our relationship on Christmas when he’d be bombarded with questions about why I wasn’t with him was cruel—I knew that. I just couldn’t go and pretend everything was fine in front of his family. We needed a clean break. I had to make sure it was crystal clear we were over.

  When I looked up, I discovered Myles was walking away. An unexpected jolt of pain shot through my chest. I’d told him to leave, but now that he was actually doing it my heart ceased. He had my head so screwed up.

  For the third time in one day I lost it—once again it was Myles’ fault. My fingers grabbed a handful of snow and packed it together. I pulled my arm back and hurled it at him.

  Somehow I managed a direct hit to the back of his head. He spun around and gaped at me while he brushed the snow away. “What the fuck?”

  “You’re good at that,” I yelled, quickly scooping up a second handful and lobbing it at him.

  “Good at—shit…” He moved to the side to dodge my throw. “Good at what?”

  “Walking away.” I packed another snowball and hastily chucked it in his direction, missing completely. “You’re good at disappearing when I least expect it.”

  “I’m not standing around while you talk to some other fucking guy.” His hands formed tight fists. The darkness in his eyes when he was fighting Tuck began creeping in. “I need to go while I still have a shred of dignity left.”

  I pushed to my feet and crossed my arms. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with me. I thought I wanted him gone, but the idea of him really leaving had me in a panic. What if I never saw him again? I quickly reminded myself how he walked out on me to smother those thoughts. “Just go—like I said, you’re good at walking away.”

  “What the hell does that even mean?” Myles looked more frustrated than I’d ever seen him. “Do you want me here or not?”

  I didn’t know the answer to his question—I was just as frustrated as he looked. “I wanted you here five months ago…”

  He started walking toward me, keeping his eyes on mine. “Not a second passes I don’t wish I’d done shit differently that day.”

  “Really?” I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes. “You walked away pretty easily.”

  Myles stopped abruptly. “You think that shit was easy?” His hands raked though his hair—anger brewing in his eyes. “I’ve been dying over there. The entire goddamn time you had someone else. You’re the one who should be explaining how it was so fucking easy to walk away!”

  I literally gasped. How dare he turn it around and make everything my fault? “Let me get this straight. You blew our relationship to hell and it’s my fault for trying to move on with my life?”

  “That’s not—” He clenched his jaw and pounded his fist against his chest. “You weren’t supposed to forget about me!” The words were sharp and full of anger—they cut straight through my defenses. “Until I showed up here, when was the last time you even thought about me?”

  My eyes blurred with unshed tears. I wanted to tell him there hasn’t been a single moment since he left that I haven’t thought about him. I couldn’t—not without completely breaking down.

  “Don’t remember, huh?” Myles stared at me, a mix of sadness and anger shadowed his features. “Guess that’s my fucking answer right there.”

  One blink sent the pooling tears rolling down my cheeks. Another blink was all it took for Myles to be standing inches away, staring at me helplessly. “Shit, I’m sorry—don’t cry.”

  There was nothing I could do about it. If he hadn’t wanted me to cry then she shouldn’t have been shouting at me. Normally I could take his shit and give it right back. Between him and Jonah, I was emotionally drained—I just couldn’t handle anymore.

  “I thought I’d changed when I met you.” The corners of his lips curled into a sad smile. “It turns out I’m just the same asshole who yelled at you on the front lawn the day we met. Coming here tonight just proved what a selfish bastard I really am. You have someone and I shouldn’t be trying to get in the middle of that.”

  A sob I’d been trying to hold back escaped my lips the second I stared into his forlorn eyes. I needed to tell him he was wrong—that I understood why he left. I’d buried what I felt for him so deeply that I couldn’t even find the words anymore.

  “Listen, Brant…” His thumbs gently brushed my tears away. “It’s ok that you’ve moved on—I fucking hate it, but I want you to be happy—even if it’s not with me.” The anguish on his face mirrored my own sorrow—I was stuck there staring into it. “The night we spent in your apartment, I told you I’d always be ok if you were.” He swallowed hard, letting his eyes lower to the snow at our feet. “That’s the truth.”

  Bullshit. He wasn’t ok—neither was I. The weight of how things ended was killing both of us. My defenses against the pain Myles caused were already crumbling. Looking at him drained all the strength I had left to keep from being crushed.

  Myles

  Brantley didn’t speak. Her breaths were soft as she let her eyes settle on mine. As the seconds passed, a strange mix of emotions played out on her face. It was like watching her read a book, only the words were written all over me—I was the source of the array of emotions plaguing her.

  Several seconds passed before I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’ve gotta be freezing.” I reached out and took her hands in mine. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to the house on my way out.”

  Brantley pulled away and balled her hands into tight fists. I took a half step back and watched her, completely unsure what she planned to do. Out of nowhere I got my answer. She started pounding my chest. A few seconds later her face crumbled and she was crying uncontrollably.

  All I could do was stand there and let it play out. She wasn’t strong enough to hurt me physically but seeing her breakdown was having the same effect—maybe worse.

  The words coming from her mouth were too broken and mixed with sobs to understand, but I got the point. I’d pushed her too far. Every bit of pained I’d caused was on the surface for me to witness first hand—this was the damage I’d done when I walked out on her.

  “I hate you for leaving—” she yelled, “I hate you for coming back!”

  The words hurt more than the punches. I wished she could inflict physical pain—that I could handle. The internal wounds her words opened up couldn’t be treated with ice and a bandage—those were injuries I’d never recover from.

  Brantley’s punches became weaker. Her words faltered as she struggled to catch her breath. She was getting worn out. When she looked like she might collapse, I slung my arms around her and held her against my chest with her arms pinned between us.

  After a few weak attempts to force her way free, she stopped fighting. That gave way to more tears—she was crying harder than before. For me, that was worse than the yelling and punching.

  “I’m sorry…” I nuzzled my lips against her ear to be sure she could hear me over her own sobs. “I’m gonna take you to your friends. I’ll back off for good this time, I swear.”

  I tried to pick her up, but she resisted. Her knees buckled and she pulled me down. I wasn’t sure what she wanted so I just lowered to the ground with her, pulling her onto my lap. As if by instinct, she wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder as she cried.

  That’s when I understood. I recognized the way her body melded into mine. She was at her emotional breaking point, just as she’d been the night she told me about her mother. She was fighting to regain control.

  The sounds of the party filled t
he silence. Music, talking, laughing was happening right around the corner. Then there was us—Brantley and me, clinging to each other as if our lives depended on it. In a way I felt like mine did. No matter what happened next, I knew it was going to be the last time she’d be in my arms.

  My eyes closed and my chin came to rest on her shoulder. I tipped my head against hers and took in a long breath of her light fruity scent, soaking it in one more time. Eventually all the little things I loved about her would fade from my memory—it was natural. I just needed to hang on as long as possible.

  I’d pissed away my chance with her. Hell, her boyfriend should be thanking me for being suck a royal fuck up. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have her. My loss—his gain. Another snapshot for my wall of regrets.

  Gradually the sobbing stopped, leaving just an occasional sniffle. I was afraid to say anything—hell, I was scared to breathe. I didn’t want to do anything to bring on the inevitable moment when I’d have to let her go.

  Brantley loosened her arms, letting one slip off my shoulder. I thought she was getting up, but instead trailed her chilly fingers along my neck. Such a small thing felt like heaven.

  “Myles, I would’ve waited for you,” she whispered, dragging her fingers through my hair. “If you would’ve told me you had to go, we could’ve figured it out.”