His eyes search mine, pressing his hand against the side of my face to look at him.
“Whatever thoughts you had in your mind just now, push that shit out. It’s not what you think it is. Of course, I want to come with you. I don’t give a fuck about what anyone says, nor do I have any hesitations about us.”
Wrapping my hand around his wrist, I lean into his palm when he presses a soft kiss against my mouth. I want to silence every doubt storming through my mind right now, forget every fear I’ve had, and enjoy having Brix here with me.
Deepening the kiss, I open my mouth to him, brushing my tongue across his lip, biting down on his lip ring. He growls, pulling me closer to him, so our chests are pressed firmly against each other.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispers, breaking our kiss, his hand dragging over my hip down to squeeze my ass.
Grinning, I give him a quick kiss before backing up to finish getting ready.
He doesn’t appear to like the answer, standing back, watching while I snag the top I was looking for from the hanger. Tossing the tank top over my head, he moans, watching me change in front of him while muttering something about forcing me to stay in.
He leaves me to run to his room, wanting to change his clothes after band practice, promising me he’ll come with me and even agreeing to drive. When I protest, he assures me if he decides to take off, he’ll come back and pick me up when I’m off work.
My shift is low key in comparison to my usual nights at Whiskey Barrel, but it flies by. Brix hangs out at the bar for most of the night, leaving for a bit when things pick up. It’s after midnight when I punch out and walk outside, finding Brix parked near the front. He’s leaning against his tailgate looking mighty sexy with his arms and feet crossed in front of him.
The exhaustion setting in a moment ago is replaced with a spike of adrenaline when I see him push off his truck to approach me. Any reluctance I once feared is gone when I watch him stalk toward me with purpose, wrapping his hands on both sides of my face, leaning in to kiss me. Hard.
“Thank God you’re off,” he whispers, pulling back for a moment. “Do you know how hard it was not to kiss you when you were standing behind the bar? What is it about watching you work that drives me so fucking wild?”
Pulling me closer to him, he moans then slips his hand into mine, leading me over to the passenger side. He opens the door, waiting for me to climb in before he jogs around sliding in next to me.
Glancing over to where I’m sitting on the other end of the bench seat, his eyes dart between me and the empty space, then back to me. I’m damn near ready to crawl on top of him when he adjusts his hat backward, looking deliciously handsome.
Sliding across the seat closer to him, he turns on his truck, settling his hand on my inner thigh, holding me. The warmth in the pickup, combined with the darkness, brings back the fatigue I felt earlier as I lean my head against his shoulder.
We make small conversation about how the rest of my night went as he drives us back to our house. AC/DC plays on low as I peer up at him, mesmerized at the way his long eyelashes fan across the apples of his cheeks every time he blinks beneath the soft light of the streetlights shining above.
“How old were you when you got into singing?”
The question takes him by surprise as he looks down at me before adjusting his gaze back on the road. His hand finds its way back to mine, rubbing his thumb over my skin.
His eyes grow distant, he’s lost in thought before he begins. “Around six or seven. I don’t remember a lot from then, but I remember singing all the time. I was always the center of attention and loved performing. When I started to get older, and things with my parents weren’t going well, and my mom was drinking heavily, I have memories of sitting with her when she was passed out or hungover, singing to her.”
My heart aches thinking about a young Brix in those moments.
“I used it to distract me from what was going on around me. I started getting into it seriously when my parents were going through their divorce. The band, the guys, it was the only thing that helped. Without it, I don’t know where I would be.”
“I think this is what you were meant to be doing.”
Lifting my hand to his mouth, he feathers a soft kiss against the back before relaxing it on his lap.
“How is she doing?”
He wavers again for a second before answering. I’ve noticed the emotion he carries around, seeing what his mom has been going through.
“She’s doing good. I got to talk to her for a little bit yesterday, and she seemed happy. Better. She’s becoming more and more of the mom I remember every day.”
Pulling the car into the driveway, he sits back against the seat, his eyes finding mine in the dark moonlight. Running my hand along his jaw, I pull him closer to me, kissing his lips softly. His hand clenches my thigh as if he’s holding on for dear life. When he leans his head back, breaking our connection, I see the emotion dancing in his eyes.
“I think you were meant to come into my life,” he whispers, but the words hit me with impact. “I’m more myself with you than I’ve ever been.”
Sliding my fingers in his, I kiss him with every ounce of love and passion I feel in me, but I can’t find the words to say.
Nineteen
Ivy
My mom and Jasper haven’t come around often despite flying home a week ago. Although the feeling around the house has shifted knowing any moment they could show up, nothing between Brix and me has changed.
If anything, our connection to each other only seems to grow more, regardless of feeling my guilt over what we are doing settling in more.
It’s inevitable, our parents will find out about us eventually, but it makes me feel better every time Brix assures me it isn’t going to change anything. Even on the nights when they stayed here instead of the loft, we still ended up sneaking into the other’s bed.
I had grown accustomed to sleeping with Brix’s strong arm banded around me every night. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I went back to school and things shifted between us.
I hoped we would be able to make the long-distance thing work, but I also knew who Brix was. He had never been serious about anything in his life, except his music. The likelihood he’d continue to be interested in me when I was three hours away at school was something I thought about often.
In the end, I chose to push the fears out of my mind and enjoy what was left of the summer we had together.
The next couple of weeks flew by quickly. Between working at Whiskey Barrel and watching A Rebels Havoc play, we’d settled into a routine.
When my mom asked me out to lunch early in the week, I agreed with not an ounce of reluctance, knowing it wouldn’t be long before I was saying goodbye to her, too. We decided to hit up the bar. They were known for their lunch menu. She hadn’t seen where I had been working since moving back to town, so it was a perfect place to meet.
Sitting along the bench outside of the bar, I read through the text messages from Brix from earlier in the day when my mom’s Audi pulls up and parks in the spot in front of me.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she sings, pushing her door open and stepping out.
Her skin is tan, her dark brown hair curled and pulled back away from her face. She is beautiful in a Demi Moore sort of way.
“Hi, Momma.” I stand, holding my arms out to her for a hug.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Her stomach growls as she laughs, pressing her hand against her to cover up the sound. “Sorry, I guess my stomach wanted to say hi, too. I’m starving.”
“Well, let’s get something to eat.” We laugh as I hold the door open for her to walk inside.
We pick out a booth along the outside wall. Jayde is the only person working the bar, the usual nighttime crowd gone, with only a few tables filled now.
Jayde stops by taking our order, as we fall into an easy conversation catching up. Although I’ve been staying with my mom for the past month and a half,
we haven’t really spent time together.
Her marriage to Jasper has been a whirlwind from the beginning, and all her time and attention have been wrapped up in him. Not that I blame her, it should be that way. It just hasn’t left much time for us to connect with each other while I’ve been back.
“How was your trip to Aruba? You haven’t really filled me in on how it went.”
“Oh, Ivyana. It’s beautiful there. Absolutely breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was nice to get away, the two of us, away from work, and enjoy our time together. You know?”
“I bet! I saw some of the pictures you posted on Facebook.”
She had shared snapshots of her and Jasper swimming near a waterfall. It was stunning, like something you’d see straight out of a magazine.
“I feel bad we haven’t had a chance to do this yet since you’ve been back home. I’ve wanted to, you know. Things have been crazy.” She pauses, taking a drink of her ice water.
“Yeah, I know. You’ve been busy, but it’s okay.”
“I’m sorry. You know that, right?”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Mom. Seriously. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”
Growing up, my mom put all her time and attention into me. I knew she had dated, I heard her talking about it with her friends and my grandma from time to time, but she never brought anyone around. I asked her about it once, about why she hadn’t been serious about anyone or why she hadn’t remarried.
It’s crazy to think about the conversation now. At the time, she told me she wasn’t interested in being remarried. Her divorce from my father was hard on her. We never really talked about how or why it happened, but there were signs that whatever had led it to end had caused her to have a lot of distrust in relationships. She had closed herself off to the idea of being with anyone.
Thinking about that, knowing how my relationship with Brix could affect hers with Jasper, made me feel even more guilty. I didn’t want what we had to cause any problems between them.
As selfish as it was for me, I also didn’t want to stop what was growing between Brix and me.
“Things have changed so much, you know. Who would’ve thought a year ago, we’d be here? My relationship with Jasper moved so quickly. I never thought I’d get married again, but we wanted to make it work.”
The way she says it, I can hear the tension in her voice. It is the first sign that whatever is going on, underneath the surface, it isn’t all as it appears to be.
“It’s good, though, right? You’re happy?”
I hadn’t intended for it to come out as a question, but she must’ve picked up on my apprehension as she lifts her glass to her mouth to take a drink. She flashes me a tense smile, eyes searching the bar for the answers that aren’t coming to her.
“I’m very happy,” she murmurs, pausing as if trying to gather her thoughts. “I just, you know, you have these pictures in your mind of how things are going to go. You’re with someone, and you make these plans, you visualize what it will be like in your head. I knew Jasper was serious about his job. In fact, one of the things I love most about him is how hard he works. I had thought when we got married, he was going to take a step back, you know. We’re getting older, our children are older. We talked about spending the summer down at the beach house and traveling together.”
The sadness starts to creep in. I want to get up and hug her, find a way to ease the confusion and hurt she is feeling.
“I hadn’t expected to spend most of my time in a loft or that he’d leave before eight every morning and come home after seven each night.”
I understand her point. It doesn’t seem like this is at all what they had talked about when they were planning out what their lives would be like.
“Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“I shouldn’t be putting this on you, Ivyana. I’m sorry.” She clasps her hands together.
“Mom, stop. You never talk to me about this stuff, but there’s nothing wrong with telling me. Just answer me.”
“I’ve tried.” She presses her lips together in a firm line, forcing a smile. “You know, I should’ve known this was going to happen, and that’s what I keep coming back to. He thought by showing his commitment to me, to each other, we’d be able to make it work.”
My brows furrow in confusion. Is she suggesting they got married to fix their problems? That hardly sounds like the mom I know.
“I wanted to believe him, ya know? I love him.”
“I know you do, Mom. I don’t think that’s the question here. It seems like you’re the one who’s doing all the sacrificing. What has he sacrificed for you?”
She nods her head in agreeance, leaning back against the booth seat as if all of her emotions sucked all the energy out of her. Jayde approaches then, setting down our plates.
Sitting in silence while we both eat, my mind drifts back to the night with Brix in the car when he mentioned he wasn’t taking their marriage seriously. At the time, I wanted to believe things with my mom would be different. We never discussed what happened to his dad’s marriage to the assistant he had left his mom for. I figured like any marriage that started in disaster, it ended the same way. I hated thinking about how my mom may go through the same thing they had.
Regardless of what poor decisions Jasper had made in the past, it wasn’t my place to warn her of his past, no matter how bright and blinding the red flags were waving in my mind. I didn’t want to be the wedge that was driven between the two of them. If it wasn’t going to work out between them, I wanted it to be because they had given it everything they had, and they learned they weren’t meant for each other.
I still couldn’t help thinking about how she would react, though, if and when she found out about my relationship with Brix.
Twenty
Brix
After the night I drove Ivy down to the beach, all I could think about was bringing her to our house in Myrtle Beach for a weekend. When my dad mentioned going out of town for work and that Charlene was joining, I decided it was the perfect opportunity for us to get away.
Fourth of July had come and gone. Soon Ivy would be heading back to school, so I knew I only had a few more weeks left before she’d be gone. In the back of my mind, between everything going on with my mom and the band, I managed to push my argument with Tysin earlier this summer to the recesses of my mind. The one where I bet him I could sleep with her, sending her back to school with a broken heart.
When I’m with Ivy, the way I feel just being near her and the feelings that have begun to grow more intensely, it’s so easy to close out everything else and focus on being in the moment with her. I didn’t want to think about the hurtful comments I had said before I’d had a chance to truly get to know her.
On the drive to Myrtle Beach, with her hand wrapped in mine, I decide I need to use our time alone together to sit down and tell her the truth. Having Ivy around has changed me for the better in so many ways. I was selfish and inconsiderate. I only cared about myself and the band. I didn’t give a shit about the women I slept with, their feelings, or anyone I hurt. If it got me what I wanted in the end, that’s all that mattered to me.
Now, here I am thinking through all the ways I’ll explain to her how selfish I had been and how I had planned to hurt her. I want to open up to her about how I feel, but how do I begin to tell her when there is a large part of this that could hurt her, too?
I want my words to mean something, not be covered up by the cloud of betrayal hanging over me. I know she’ll be angry and hurt, but I hope she’ll give me a chance to prove to her the things I said and the way I felt in the beginning, isn’t at all how I feel about her now.
“Oh my God, this house is beautiful.” Ivy’s eyes light up, staring out the window as we pull up the long driveway.
The little things that make her happy and smile have become the best part of my day. I’ll start to do whatever I can just to see this look on her face.
Pu
tting the truck in park, I tell her to stay where she is as I jog around to her side and open the door, holding my hand out to her.
“You can be so romantic.” She tries to cover up her grin as I pull her into me, kissing her softly. Her hand wraps around the base of my neck, holding me to her.
Grabbing our bags, I slam the door shut and slide my fingers into hers with a wink. “Whatever you say, baby.”
She rests her head on my shoulder while I sort through my keys, trying to find the right one. Slipping the key in the lock, I push the door open, letting Ivy lead the way.
“Oh my…” Her voice trails off as she walks through the house, running her hand along the back of the white couch over to the counter wrapped around the large eat-in kitchen.
“Are you sure we can’t live here?”
Despite her soft laugh and her wide smile, there’s an edge of seriousness in her tone. If we could stay here, I’d have our shit moved over in a heartbeat.
As I set our bags down in the foyer, Ivy unlocks the sliding glass door and pushes it open, stepping out onto the patio overlooking the ocean.
The sun shines above us, not a single cloud floats in the sky. Her burnt-orange dress leaves most of her back on display. She does a twirl, arms held out around her with her head thrown back.
“You like it here?”
“Like it? I think it’s safe to say I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”
It ended up working out perfectly as it was the one weekend over the next few weeks that we had no shows. It took some convincing, but Jayde was able to give her some time off. I told her there was no choice, she was going to be here either way. She owed me a favor after the size of the crowds we had been bringing in the place.
We decide to head down to the beach. I’m not one to go swimming in the ocean, at least not since I was younger. However, I know how Ivy looks in a swimsuit, and there’s not much I wouldn’t do to see her in one again.
Her eyes keep traveling back to me, specifically my shirtless chest, as I spread out our blanket in the sand. She unwraps the sarong around her waist, showing off her sexy-as-hell legs as she moves to sit down.
BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1) Page 12