Making a circle in front of me with my hand, I say, “Don’t you know it’s rude to invade someone’s personal fucking space bubble?”
His smile is lit up by a ray of sunlight filtering through the open garage doors, like a spotlight, showcasing his smugness. He’s not the slightest bit deterred by my outburst. That sparks my anger even more, and I try to stay calm. If he even breathes wrong, I’m going to snap.
“Don’t you know a foul mouth is not an attractive quality in a girl?”
Vision blurring and skin on fire, I tense, clenching my fists at my side until my nails dig into my palms. “Good thing I don’t give a shit if you think I’m attractive, Brady.”
“You sure about that, Tor?”
Goddammit!
I suck in air through my nose, trying desperately to control my rage before Liv or Tug hears us. “You’re an arrogant asshole!”
“You’re right.” His over-confident grin is maddening.
Why can’t he just leave me alone? My shoulders slump and I flash him an annoyed smile. Given the whopper of a hangover I’m experiencing, I don’t have the energy to deal with him. “What do you want, Brady?”
He steps into my space again and his thumb pulls on my lip, releasing it from my teeth. I hadn’t noticed how hard I was biting down, and I taste blood. A thoughtful smile tugs on the corner of his mouth.
“I want you to be happy and not feel like you have to look away every time our eyes meet, like they have for the last ten minutes. I want to be able to walk into a room without seeing your face fall, and mostly, I want to apologize.”
I’m shocked, literally stunned speechless. He pulls something from his pocket, and I crack a smile when he holds up a tissue. I knew he’d eventually give me crap about it. Like a tiny white flag of surrender, he waves it in front of him, and he’s written I’m sorry on it. Huh. Brady Hunter is apologizing.
I rip it from his hand, and laugh softly. “You’re not gonna let me live that one down, are you?”
“You attacked me with a tissue. I’m probably going to laugh about that one for quite some time.”
“Brady, I…” My words catch, and I’m lost in his intense green eyes. They stare right into mine and I want to look away, but I don’t. His irises have these intriguing flecks of gold and brown in them. They’re mesmerizing, but they’re making me extremely uncomfortable. His hand slides up under my jaw, stopping at the curve under my ear. He licks his lips. My breath comes fast, and heat pulses against my sex. Please don’t kiss me. Please don’t kiss me. Oh, fuck it! Please kiss me.
He doesn’t kiss me, and my body instantly deflates, disappointed by his rejection. “I’m sorry. That was a dick move I pulled last night, and you didn’t deserve that.”
Anger returning, I smack his hand away and glare at him. “What the hell, Brady? Up, down, up, down,” My hand moves up and down with my words. “You know, they have medication for people like you.”
Brady throws his head back and laughs. It’s contagious, and I just can’t help myself – I laugh too.
Shooting me a crooked smile, he says, “I don’t think medication can help me. But thanks for the honest suggestion.”
I should leave, but I’m stupid and curious, so I stay. “What’s going on with you, Brady?”
Brady’s smile disappears, and his body language tenses. He clears his throat, and I wait patiently for his response. “I just have a lot of things I’m dealing with right now.”
I let out an irritated breath, swallow, and bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from telling him where to shove it. I wish he’d just be direct. I don’t speak evasive babble. “Vague much, Brady? Come on, what kind of things?”
Silence lingers between us until I decide to back down, uninterested in playing the guessing game with Brady, or any games, for that matter. Just as my flip-flop presses into the second stair, he speaks again. “My life’s complicated right now. It’s nothing I want you to worry about.”
Twisting my head to look at him, I decide to probe, ignoring his concern about my worrying. “Complicated how?”
“Please don’t leave.” His face is dreadfully sad, and there’s a struggle behind his pleading eyes. I step down from the stairs and look at him.
He turns, combing his fingers through his hair. “Complicated…as in a complete fucking mess. With school, and dealing with my parents and all of their bullshit. I don’t want my issues to interfere with our friendship.”
His answer surprises me. What friendship? “You sail through school. And your parents? Come on, Brady, your parents are great. Compared to mine, they’re perfect.”
His jaw tightens instantly, and the vein in his temple pops out. His Adam’s apple flexes when he swallows. “Perfect? Is anyone ever perfect, Tori? My mom is a self-absorbed bitch and my father is a spineless bastard!”
His reaction shocks me. What is he talking about? And why is he so pissed? Brady’s never had the best relationship with his parents, but I’ve never heard him talk about them so bitterly, so full of malice. “Come on, Brady. Your parents are hard on you, but they have your best interests at heart.”
His jaw shifts and locks tight. His eyes are dark, and his body’s stiff. When he relaxes, his shoulders fall and a small smile touches his lips. “You’re sweet, Tor. You love my folks, but you see what you want to see. My family is far from perfect. We have secrets like every other family. You grew up watching my mom being PTA president and baking cookies. That doesn’t mean we aren’t screwed up. It means we pretend better than most families. When it comes to painting a picture of what we should look like, my parents are perfect at that.”