“It wasn’t intentional,” I said, pulling my wrist back.
“I know that. You don’t ever have to defend B to me. I’ll always be on his side, no matter what.”
“You will?” It seemed really important to me in that moment to hear him say that.
“I swear. No matter what.”
I let out a breath and nodded. “Thank you, Romeo.”
He hugged me against his sweaty chest. At first, I was surprised, but then I softened and hugged him back. “I’ll always be on your side too, Ivy,” he added softly.
My arms tightened around him.
He chuckled. “Pretty good grip for a princess.”
I groaned and pulled away. “That’s gonna stick, isn’t it?” I knew he’d wanted something to call me (because, you know, brothers don’t call their sisters by their names), but princess?
“Oh yeah.” He laughed and his eyes twinkled with amusement because he knew I hated it.
I sighed, accepting my nickname fate, and left him there, laughing behind me.
I felt better having talked to him. The reassurance he was going to be there for Braeden no matter what was exactly what I needed to hear.
Because something deep down inside me whispered that Braeden was really going to need it.
Chapter Six
Braeden
Ivy was the only one in the kitchen when I went downstairs. It was still kinda early, so I hoped we’d have a little time alone before everyone else came down for coffee.
From the doorway, I watched her quietly. She was dressed in a pair of jeans that made her legs look like they went on for miles. They weren’t the normally tight kind she favored, the kind she could wear with boots. These were faded and the bottoms flared out with a wide hemline that covered her feet completely.
It made me smile because it made her look like she was floating right there above the floor.
Like an angel.
My angel.
The way the worn fabric cupped her round ass was mouthwatering. Ivy was all woman. All curves and softness. I fucking loved that about her. She wasn’t too thin or so small it scared me, though she’d gotten thinner the past few months. Something I wasn’t too happy about but refused to comment on. Hell, it was no wonder she lost weight after everything she’d been through. Now that she’d been in therapy a while and life was finally calming down, I knew she’d likely gain it back. I’d make sure of it.
Just like I’d make sure our life stayed calm.
Note to self: put an end to the nightmares.
If only it were that easy.
The top she was wearing was white, some relaxed material that floated over her body and moved in gentle swaying motions as she moved. It billowed out around her upper arms and then the fabric gathered around her elbows and became tighter, hugging her forearms all the way down past her wrists.
She drew the coffee down from the cabinet and tossed her long, straight hair over her shoulders. I’d always been an ass man, but lately, those long, blond strands had been equally claiming my eye. There was something about the silkiness that calmed me. Something about the way I felt when I wound my hands around the length and held on.
She’s my anchor.
Once the coffee was brewing, she turned to put away the container and noticed me hovering nearby.
Her smile was immediate, and the tightness I’d had in my chest since the shower relaxed some. She didn’t look upset with me; she didn’t appear hurt.
I pushed off the doorway and strolled into the room. Ivy abandoned what she was doing and met me halfway. I picked her up and sat her on the counter, stepping between her legs.
“My bed was empty this morning,” I growled. “I didn’t like it.”
A shadow passed behind her blue eyes. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
I grunted, not sure what to make of that. My lips parted, about to ask the question I wasn’t sure I wanted her to answer.
Ivy’s hands cupped my jaw and rubbed. “You didn’t shave,” she purred.
My body responded to her touch, to the sound of her voice, and I pushed my jaw farther into her palms. “Too interested in finding you,” I murmured.
A slight smile lifted the corners of her full mouth, and she leaned forward, rubbing her lips and jaw over the scruff. Her teeth scrapped at the underside of my chin and then went up to nip at my lower lip. “I like this. Soft and scratchy at the same time,” she whispered.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I murmured and kissed her softly.
Ivy drew back slightly, her hands falling into her lap and concern darkening her gaze. “Are you okay?”
I flashed her a fast smile. She’d expected me to jump her right here in the kitchen. I would have any other morning, but not right now. Right now, I had more important things to think about besides burying myself deep in my woman’s body.
I said nothing, shifting to reach between us and cup her hands in mine. Slowly, gently, I slid my palms down toward her wrists, hooking my thumbs in hems of her sleeves.
Ivy stiffened and started to pull back. Mentally, I cursed myself. That one action told me everything I needed to know. I knew then I’d see marks I didn’t want to see.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice worried.
Backing off a little, I lifted her left hand and met her eyes. I held her gaze as I pressed a kiss to the center of her palm. The worry in her gaze turned hazy. Swiftly but gently, I pushed up the sleeve to reveal her slender wrist.
The wrist that bore my fingerprints.
A sick feeling clawed at my gut. My stomach clenched and anger burned my chest. I’d put marks on her. I’d done the one thing I was most against.
“Braeden.” Ivy tried to pull her wrist away, to cover it back up.
I motioned with my chin to her other hand. “That one the same?”
Her silence was my confirmation.
“You were dreaming again,” she whispered. “You didn’t realize—”
“Don’t you dare make excuses for me,” I snapped, harsh.
She pulled her arm out of my hold and pulled down the sleeve. “I’m not.”
“You fucking are, and I won’t have it,” I growled.
She opened her mouth, a stubborn glint in her eye, and I held up my hand. “Where else did I hurt you?”
“Nowhere.”
I gave her a sour look.
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you accusing me of lying?” she intoned.
“I was too rough.” My voice was hoarse. A few curse words fell from my lips as I thought about the way I’d pounded into her this morning. God, it had felt so fucking good. It made me feel like a bastard.
“Braeden James,” she commanded and took my face in her hands. “Listen to me right now. Yes, you were rough. Yes, I have bruises on my wrists. But they aren’t from the sex. It was because I climbed on top of you when you were having a nightmare. Me. I did that. Not you.”
Anger slapped me all over again, and I felt the protest work its way up the back of my throat. Ivy must have seen it in my eyes.
“You did not hurt me. I swear,” she vowed. Then in a softer, more confiding tone, she said, “I liked it.”
My eyes flashed up to hers.
She nodded. “I came so hard…” Her voice trailed away. “It was like you were finally giving me all of you.”
“Baby…” My voice broke. “You have all of me already.”
She shook her head. “No, B. There’s this piece of you, this place deep down you keep from everyone. Even from yourself.”
I made a rude sound. “I know it’s there. I hate it.”
“I don’t.” God, the honest vulnerability in her voice was going to be my undoing. It was like every word she spoke was a secret she was revealing for the very first time. “I love it. I love every single part of you, Braeden James.”
Those words broke me. Broke the anger I felt, the self-loathing I was allowing to swallow me whole. How was I supposed to hate any piec
e of myself if she saw value? How was I supposed to hold on to the fear of that piece of me when Ivy clearly glimpsed it and still sat here, unflinching?
“I can take it.” She continued. “I want it. You try to conceal it, but I see. You feel things more deeply than anyone realizes. You keep things so tightly caged that when you finally let go, it’s like a wild animal breaking loose. Stop holding back. Stop being scared. Trust yourself as much as I trust you.”
She made it sound so simple.
“Bruises, Ivy.” I reminded her, picking up her wrist again.
She made a sound in her throat and grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and lifted.
“Stop trying to look at me naked,” I protested. “This is a serious conversation.”
She laughed and stripped the shirt over my head. A sound of satisfaction filled the air.
What can I say? I was damn fine.
“Guess I should apologize, too.”
“What?” Her words snapped me out of distraction.
Her index finger smoothed across my shoulder and then traced a spot that was suddenly tender to the touch. I glanced down.
“I bit you this morning. Left a mark.”
Indeed. There were teeth marks on my shoulder.
Images of us in bed together, the memory of the sounds she made as she splintered apart so hard beneath me, and the feel of her teeth sinking into my flesh as I emptied my release into her buzzed through my head. “Baby, I liked it.”
I covered her hand with mine, and we stood there cupping my shoulder.
“Then is it so hard to believe I liked it, too?”
I felt myself giving in. The sex was fucking level ten this morning. So fucking deep, and I’m not just talking about how far I was inside her body.
(But I totally was balls deep.)
I groaned.
Her smile was smug, like she’d somehow won a war.
“Blondie,” I growled.
“B,” she growled back, but it sounded like a baby kitten yawning.
I made a rude sound. “That is not intimidating.”
“Yes, huh.” She argued.
What the fuck kind of argument was that?
I chuckled but then turned serious again and wrapped one of my palms around her silky hair. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. Asleep or not. It won’t happen again, I swear. I’ll sleep in another room if I have to.”
She gasped. “You will not!”
“I fucking will,” I ground out. “I will not put marks on your body.”
“What if I promise not to try and force you awake?” She reasoned.
“I don’t know.” I hedged. It was enticing. I didn’t want to sleep anywhere but beside her. Just the thought of it made me anxious.
“I swear I won’t,” she vowed. Her voice turned pleading. “Please, B. I feel safe with you, protected. I need that.”
The irony that she felt safe with me yet I put bruises on her wasn’t lost on me. I was going to have to do better.
The look in her eyes is what did it. The worry I saw at the idea of her sleeping alone.
“No place I’d rather be.” I relented.
She exhaled and leaned forward, pressing a cheek to my shoulder and releasing a sigh of relief.
“But, baby, you gotta promise. If I start thrashing around, get out of bed. Don’t try and stop it.”
She nodded against me. I tucked her a little closer, enjoying the way she felt in my arms, marveling in the fact she was mine.
I’d come so close to losing her.
So close it tormented me still.
I needed to let go of that night, but I wasn’t sure I knew how.
I love every single part of you, Braeden James.
Jesus, she had no clue how much I needed to hear that. I hadn’t known either.
It should have paved the way for some self-acceptance.
But something was still standing in my way.
There was still a part of me Ivy didn’t know. A part no one knew but me. A part no one could ever find out about, because I knew for certain when they did…
My life would be just like the nightmares that stalked me in sleep.
Chapter Seven
Ivy
It was almost too easy.
Too easy to talk B down after he saw the bruises. Especially coming off the heels of what it took to pull him from his nightmare last night.
‘Course, maybe that’s why this was an easier battle. He was already tired.
My heart hurt for him. It ached. He was so incredibly hard on himself in every aspect. When we first met during freshman year, I never in a million years would have guessed a guy like him would expect so much from himself.
It explained a lot really, now that I stood here and thought about it.
He never got too close, he was a just for fun guy for a reason. Yeah, he said it was because he was a wild stallion and liked to roam free. But I knew better now.
He was protecting himself.
He knew if he allowed himself to fall, to get close to someone, it wouldn’t be just for fun. He was too guarded for that. He was too protective, too cautious that something would take away everything he cherished.
The car accident had only made it worse. He’d been faced with his worst fear, literally thought I was dead until he pulled me out of the wreckage.
I was reluctant to tug out of his embrace because his smooth shoulder felt so good beneath my cheek and because the steady rhythm of his heartbeat was like music to my soul. But I pulled back anyway, my eyes searching for his.
Braeden’s arms loosened and slid down around my hips, his fingers brushing casually over the white fabric of my shirt. His eyes were the color of milk chocolate and rimmed with thick, short lashes that looked more like dark chocolate. Without thought, I hooked my index finger into the waistband of his jeans and dipped it down past the waistband of his boxers.
“B?” I asked tentatively. He seemed relaxed and unperturbed. Still, I wanted to be sure. It was important to me to know he wasn’t just shoving the anger with himself down where I couldn’t see it.
“Hmm?” The sound rumbled in his throat, his eyes never leaving mine. My finger rubbed lightly across his skin. The milk chocolate of his irises deepened in color just a bit, looking more like coffee without any cream.
“Aww, come on!” a voice groaned from the doorway. “You can’t just entice a guy down here with the scent of brewing coffee and then punch him in the guts with the image of his baby sister on the island—where we eat—and her half-naked boyfriend.”
I rolled my eyes, pulled my hand free of B’s waistband, and looked over my shoulder all at the same time.
Drew was standing there with rumpled, uncombed caramel-colored hair and a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low off his hips to reveal more of his lean waist than any sister cared to see. His feet were bare, which made me shiver because even though the heat was on inside, it was winter outside and there was snow on the ground. His mouth twisted into a grimace as he looked between Braeden and me. Like he’d caught us having sex or something.
“Please,” I retorted. “Braeden has on more clothes than you do.”
He grunted and came farther into the room, grabbed a barstool, and plunked himself on it. “Tell me the coffee’s done.”
“You look hung-over,” Braeden observed, sounding rather amused. I frowned as he grasped me around the waist to lift me off the counter.
He set me on my feet but didn’t move back, his warm body pressed close, and I relished in the feel. Even with my brother in the room, it was easy to forget we weren’t alone. He reached behind me and snagged his shirt off the counter and pulled it between us.
I sighed and smoothed my palms out over his chest muscles, getting in one last caress before he covered back up.
He pushed my chin up with one finger, and a smile played on his lips. “Later.” He promised quietly, dropping a quick kiss to my lips.
Behind us, Drew groaned again, and I stepped away from B
to pull some mugs down out of the cabinet and fill one with black coffee. I carried it over to Drew and set it in front of him.
“You’re my favorite sister,” he said.
“I’m your only sister.” I reminded him.
His smile was lopsided and totally endearing as he lifted the cup to his lips to take a sip. “Well, I like you better than Cam, too.”
I laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.” Camden (aka Cam) was our other brother, the middle child in our family.
“Traitor,” Drew muttered as he sipped more of the coffee.
I scrutinized his face. He looked tired. Braeden said he looked hung-over, and yeah, I could totally see why. But it was the middle of the week. Surely, my brother hadn’t gone out last night and gotten drunk…
Arms wrapped around me from behind, and B’s chin rested on my shoulder beside my ear. I leaned back into his body, momentarily giving him my weight. It kinda felt like a relief, like I was more tired than I realized and the moment of rest was welcome. “Left my phone upstairs. I’m gonna go grab it.”
I covered his hand with mine, and he caressed my wrist with his free hand, lightly skimming his fingers over the bruises my shirt covered. The action told me a lot.
Like maybe he hadn’t quite forgiven himself.
I leaned back to glance up. “I love you.”
He nuzzled his face in my hair, and I felt his chest fill with air when he inhaled. He was totally smelling me.
That’s okay. I liked it. I liked knowing that simply the way I smelled gave B some kind of high.
“Times two,” he whispered before leaving me alone with Drew.
The absence of his warm, solid body behind me made me feel slightly off balance. A little fuzzy headed.
“Why do you look so tired?” Drew asked, scrutinizing my face.
“Because it’s super early and I haven’t had my coffee yet,” I retorted like the bratty little sister I was. I pushed away from the island and went to the pot on the counter behind me.
A wave of dizziness came over me, and I pushed it aside and reached for a mug. My hand was slightly unsteady as I poured the rich-smelling liquid into my cup. Clearly, I needed this caffeine a lot more than usual this a.m.
#Heart (The Hashtag Series Book 6) Page 5