He doesn’t answer me, and instead climbs into his truck and slams the door. Harrison calls after me, but I don’t turn around. Jesse’s voice floats through the air, telling him to let me go.
Through the passenger-side window, I notice Brady has his arms folded over the steering wheel, and he’s buried his head in them. Pulling on the door handle, I expect to find it locked, but it opens. I slide into the truck and tears sting my eyes, ready to spill at any second. The painful silence makes me want to lunge across the seat and comfort him and tell him it will be okay, but he’s not ready to hear it. Knowing Brady, he’s convinced it will never get better or be okay.
A huff of air leaves him, and he won’t look at me. Though he won’t admit it, I know he’s afraid and confused. He thinks I’m going to look at him differently now. I’m not. I love him, and I’ll push through this with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Brady?” I coax softly.
“I told you she was gone and…” His voice breaks, and he shakes his head.
I run my hand tenderly over the hair just above his ear. “You didn’t say she was dead.”
“Fuck, Tori,” he growls in his throat, finally looking over at me. The fierceness in his stare scares me. A tear slides down his cheek. My heart splits in two, witnessing his raw emotion. “It’s not something I talk about.”
“Tell me what happened, please, Brady,” I encourage him, treading carefully. He’s teetering on the edge, between anger and pain.
“I fucked up, that’s what happened.”
My hand gently slides up his arm, resting on his shoulder. He puts his hand on top of mine. “Brady, please.”
He shakes his head. “I destroy everything good around me, Tori. I told you before.”
Silence lingers for ages. His stare out of the windshield is nerve-wracking because it is as though I’m not even in the truck. I don’t make a move to leave, and I don’t speak. The choice for him to explain has to be his.
After an eternity, he moves and looks over at me. The suffering and guilt clouding his eyes is more than I can take. I drop my gaze to my lap. “I was taking Vanessa home after we had dinner out. We were on my bike. A bird came out of nowhere.” He slams his hands into the steering wheel. “A fucking bird! I tried to turn the handlebars, but they stuck. I lost control and laid the bike down. Vanessa slid across the concrete and slammed into a pole. She broke her neck and died instantly. I fucking killed her. I wish every day that it had been me. But it wasn’t, and hers is the first face I wake up to and the last one I see before I sleep.”
All the air leaves my lungs. Brady falls onto my lap, and his arms slip under my thighs. His breaths are shallow and shaky. I run my fingers through his hair, but I have no idea how to console him.
“The worst part, Tori,” he continues, “is that it was the night we broke up. The night she told me she knew I was in love with you.”
I shake my head, his words too painful. “It wasn’t your fault, Brady.”
Brady sits back up and looks right into my eyes. I can see by his expression he disagrees. He believes he is responsible, and he always will. “It was, and I’ll never forgive myself.”
“It was an accident. There was nothing you could have done.” I try emphatically to convince him.
“I sti
ll killed her.” His eyes return to the glass in front of him as if it’s a mirror to his soul. The hurt on his face is excruciating to watch.
Doing the only thing I can think of to help him forget, I peel out of my wetsuit and slide across the seat, straddling him. His breath catches in his throat. “What are you doing, Tori?”
I whisper into his neck, “Taking it away, Brady.”
Before he stops me, I slide my hands into the waistband of his shorts and begin pulling them down. He lifts from the seat, helping me, and I push his shorts down to his knees.
I pull my bathing suit bottoms to the side, and position myself above him. He’s poised at my entrance, ready for me. Brady’s hands slide up my back and grip my shoulders. Without hesitating, he lifts his hips and pushes down on my shoulders, slipping into me.
Brady exhales the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. And the saddest.
I wince a little from the intrusion, but an instant later it’s gone, replaced with a wonderful fullness, filling me completely. I begin slowly moving my hips. He quickly increases his thrusts, his movements frantic and hurried. His warm breath is on my neck as he groans repeatedly. He needs this, and I do too. He’s broken, and I may not be able to put him back together, but I can make him forget…if only for a little while.
His hands roam over my body, my thighs, my back, and everywhere in between. They move to my back and find the tie of my bathing suit top. With a quick pull, the bow is free, and his hand slides around to the front, covering my bare breasts. He gently pinches my nipple between his fingers, and I exhale a moan. And then he leans down and takes my nipple in his mouth, flicking at it with his tongue. His lips move, kissing their way up my neck.
Sand and sweat mix between us, rubbing my bare skin raw, but I ignore it. I fist my fingers into the back of his hair, and move my hips quicker, growing close to ecstasy. He continues kissing my neck, without looking at me; so different from the first time, when he couldn’t take his eyes off me. The truck squeaks from the motion, and the windows are fogged so thickly I can no longer see out. We both breathe fast and hard.
“Brady, Brady… Oh, God…” I shout his name, take a deep breath, and crumble on top of him, my entire body shaking wildly. I look over Brady’s shoulder to the night sky. The sound of voices in the distance reminds me that we could be caught at any minute. His fingers dig into my waist, and he thrusts into me, until I feel him shudder beneath me.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, moving roughly into me one last time. “How can something feel so fucking right and also, so incredibly wrong? I’m sorry.”