Fortuity (Transcend 3)

I rub my lips together. “Morning.”

After a dizzying kiss, he releases me and swats my ass. “Have a good day.”

“What about my coffee?” I follow him around the corner into the kitchen.

“I’m actually out of coffee.” He grabs an insulated, stainless steel cup from a floating shelf.

“Then what are you doing?”

He fills it with water and puts a lid on it. “It’s like you haven’t met my daughter. She will notice if you’re not carrying a drink out of the house.” He cranes his neck to look out the deck window before handing me the cup and kissing my cheek. “Don’t scalp anyone today.”

The cup.

The kiss on the cheek.

It’s all too familiar.

“What?” He narrows his eyes when I freeze, speechless for a few seconds.

I shake my head. “Um … nothing. Th-thanks for the water.” I can’t look at him because I suck at lying.

Brandon.

He used to make coffee for me before my first class my sophomore year of college. He’d put it in a travel mug, hand it to me, tell me to have a good day, and kiss my cheek.

“And thanks again for letting Gabe crash your day.” A nervous smile forces itself onto my face just before I turn and convince my legs to take me to the door without tripping over anymore old memories. “Have fun, you two. I’ll see you later.”

Gabe and Morgan mumble a goodbye. When I get in the Land Rover, my shaky hand slides the mug of water into the drink holder.

“You used to shake around me too.”

Grunting a laugh, I fiddle with the clasp to the bracelet he gave me and close my eyes for a few seconds. “Nice of you to finally show up.”

Brandon chuckles. “I’ve always been here. I just didn’t have anything to say.”

Opening my eyes, I start the engine. His voice is clear. It’s not a whisper or an echo of memories from the past. I can’t see him, but he’s here. And maybe I tell people like Mr. Hans that I know it’s just in my head, but I’m not sure it is.

“I had sex with a man who’s leaving in five weeks, jumped half naked from his balcony, and his daughter caught us in a very compromising position. Yet, you have nothing to say until now?” I back out of the driveway. If anyone saw my lips moving, they’d assume I’m hands-free on a phone call.

“I’d say he’s a worthy opponent. My job here is done.”

Tears fill my eyes. “Shut up. You don’t mean that. There’s nothing worthy about him. He’s just stumbling through life like me. A wounded animal. How does that make him a worthy opponent? Oh … and did I mention he’s moving?”

“You never sucked me off like that. He must be special.”

I roll my eyes. “Jeez … how did your perversion live when everything else died?”

“You have a child.”

I frown, focusing on the traffic. “He’s not mine.”

“Oh, Grace … don’t say that. Gabe needs to belong to something real and tangible. You don’t have to lie to the world and say he developed in your womb, but let him be yours. Let him belong. If you adopted a puppy, you wouldn’t say this is a dog. You’d say this is my dog. Your responsibility. Yours to love.”

I bat a few tears away from my cheeks and grip the steering wheel. “Why are you here? Why today?”

“To give you my approval. My blessing to move on. Which is ridiculous because I gave it to you before I died. You’re so stubborn, Grace.”

“I did move on. It’s not my fault Andy cheated on me and Michael left me at the altar. That was me … moving on. I can’t force anyone to love me.” I take a sip of the water Nate sent with me because arguing with my dead boyfriend makes my throat dry and scratchy.

“You could try to be more lovable.”

“Wow! That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Brandon laughs. Should dead people be allowed to haunt the living with laughter? He’s dead. His good times are over.

“Harsh is calling my name while another guy makes you orgasm.”

“It slipped. I apologized. That didn’t make it right for Andy to slip his dick into some other girl. Saying your name wasn’t cheating.”

“But were you thinking of me? Hmm … if I recall, I believe you were. Not gonna lie … I was fine with it at the time. If I’m being honest, Andy wasn’t the one for you. Twenty-seven-year-olds who still live at home and have their mom do their laundry should be banned from the dating world.”

I roll my eyes. He’s not entirely wrong, but Andy was trying to open a restaurant. His mom was almost as June Cleaver as my mom—only she didn’t have an apron.

“I’m not sure if you stalk him the way you stalk me, but Andy now has three restaurants. He married a politician. And they have twin boys who are both phenomenal basketball players. Maybe I saw Andy’s potential before anyone else did.”