Rough Edge (Tannen Boys 2)

His lip twitches, almost a smirk, giving me the balls to keep going.

“I didn’t run away this time. I went nuclear, slashing and burning everything. Slashing and burning you. I think there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” I look around the house we’re standing in, feeling like shit for never even questioning where he lived beyond ‘the ranch’. We’ve spent many nights together, but they’ve all been at my apartment, something that didn’t occur to me until it was too late. “But I want to know. I want to share things with you and be here for you to share with. Whenever you’re ready. If you’re ever willing to do that with me again.”

He’s quiet for a moment, just watching me coolly, and I feel like I’m awaiting his verdict.

“You asked for casual, but I think we both know we left that behind a while ago.” His eyes dare me to disagree or argue, but I stay utterly silent.

My hope cracks under the weight of the moment. This is him letting me down easy, ripping off the Band-Aid slowly. Hypocrite, I think, knowing he said it was kinder to Reed in the long run to do it in one yank. Yet, here he is, pulling at my edges one tiny tear at a time. Maybe I don’t deserve the kinder, gentler version of Brody. I didn’t give him one of me.

“I’m not a fairy tale kind of guy,” he says carefully, his eyes not wavering, “not looking for some Disney happily ever after shit. But.”

I look up, not even realizing that my eyes had fallen to the floor. “But?”

“You’re the first person I think of when I wake up. You’re who I want to call at the end of the day to talk about the crazy shit that happens out here. You’re this whirlwind of epic power that I want to stand back and watch as you make your own path to wherever you’re going.” He lets that sink in, for both of us, I think, because when he speaks again, his voice is gruffer, like he’s choking the words out. “I want to tell you things and spend time with you—not casually, which is hard for me too. But only if you want that.” His brow lifts, and I realize he’s letting me set ground rules too. Because he sees me as an equal and doesn’t want to sway me. It means more than he’ll ever know, but all I can do is nod in agreement and smile as hope blooms inside me.

“Okay then. Let’s try this again. How about we start here? This is my house.” He spreads his arms out wide, his wingspan nearly touching the cabinets on either side of the kitchen. “I grew up here, learned how to make those pancakes you love so much right there at that stove,” he says, pointing to a white appliance that’s seen better days, “from my Mom. She was amazing, and I miss her every fucking day. Losing her changed everything.”

Shadows pass through his eyes, and I know there’s more there, and the urge to ask hits me so hard. But I have to let him tell me when he’s ready. He will. I have to trust that.

“Can we get out of here? Will you walk with me, let me show you the farm?”

I’m rocked, my heart leaping as I realize the enormity of his question. That he would even consider sharing this with me now is a sign of how forgiving he is, how invested in us he is. I’m equally and simultaneously scared shitless and excited beyond my wildest expectations.

“I would love to see it.” It’s the plain truth. I want to know what made this man who he is. My armor is thick. Reaching deep into my core and finding softness is a difficult and treacherous dig. For Brody, I think his hard exterior and cocky arrogance are only surface deep. The true core of him is something much softer. No, stickier. He’s a nurturer, a put-others-firster. But I doubt anyone ever gets that far, only seeing the asshole he portrays so well.

He steps over the dog, who’s gone back to sleep by the front door. “That’s Murphy, Brutal’s dog. ‘Bout the only thing he’s good for is cleaning up under the kitchen table when Cooper doesn’t like his vegetables.” He chuckles a little at that, and I remember his telling me about their cornhole tournament championship, which Cooper won, as expected.

I tell the soundly sleeping dog hello as we walk outside. In my mind, I promise him my vegetables too.

“Come on. Goats first. They’re always everyone’s favorite.”

We walk across the yard-slash-driveway area toward a metal barn. Brody pulls the door open and leads me through to a fenced-in pen. I almost immediately have to plant my feet so I’m not knocked down by the herd of animals swarming me. “Hi!” My voice is high-pitched, tight with excitement. “Holy shit! Cowboy, look!”