Bradford Bastard (Bradford Bastard 1)
Before I can even formulate a response, she pushes against my shoulder and stands, using her hold on me to keep balanced as she steps back toward her window. She sits her ass on the frame and glances down at me. “I think you should go before we both end up doing or saying something stupid.”
A laugh rumbles through my chest, but I stand, knowing damn well that she’s right. “I think we flew past stupid days ago,” I tell her, bending down to grab the takeout container and empty bottle of tequila. Straightening up and backing away from her, I find myself pausing, watching her as she sits in her window. “You know, if Jensen gives you trouble …”
Brielle nods, reading the rest of my comment loud and clear, and a part of me relaxes, knowing that she would feel comfortable enough to ask for my help if she were in trouble. “For the record,” she says, hooking one leg inside her room. “This didn’t happen. The second you step off this roof, we go right back to hating each other.”
I wink and her cheeks flush, sending me into fucking heart failure. “Going back to hating you would imply that I ever stopped.”
I turn to leave and start making my way toward the fence to jump back down when her soft tone calls through the silence of the warm night. “Tanner?” she questions, hesitation in her tone.
Glancing back over my shoulder with furrowed brows, I pause, watching her struggle with the emotion written across her face and not understanding this need to console her. “What’s up?”
“I’m sorry about your sister,” she tells me. “I don’t know the details, and I’m not going to ask for them, but if you need to talk it out or just want to scream … I’ll keep quiet about it. You don’t need to worry about me spreading shit.”
My stare lingers on hers for a moment and I can’t bring myself to respond. The idea of breaking down in front of her scares the shit out of me. I don’t want her to see me as vulnerable or weak. I can’t … no. Tonight was already pushing the limits. I’ve already crossed a line that I shouldn’t have.
Seeing that a response isn’t coming, Brielle slips back into her bedroom and watches me through the window as she pulls it closed and reaches up to lock it. I can’t look away. My body craves her, needs her like an addict desperate for his next hit.
Before I do anything I’ll regret, I jump down from the second story roof and land in the grass, my hand already slipping into my pocket. I pull my phone out, press a few buttons as I dump the empty bottle and takeout container in the trash can and hold the phone to my ear.
It rings twice before Riley’s voice sounds through the phone. “What’s up, man? Your sister alright?”
“Nah, the fucker walked and now she’s on a ventilator.”
“What do you need?”
I step into my darkened home and move up the stairs until I’m standing in my bedroom, a clear view of Brielle Ashford directly across from me. I lean against the window frame, watching as she sits on her bed with her laptop, busily typing away. “I want to know every last thing there’s to know about Colby Fucking Jacobs, and then we’re going to fucking end him.”
Chapter 14
BRIELLE
The noise of the busy cafeteria drowns out the plaguing thoughts circling my head about my stupid decision to ask Tanner up on the roof. I can’t believe how bold I was. I labeled it … whatever it is. I was happier pretending that there was nothing between us, but I was too obvious. I called us both out and now, I can’t stop remembering his hands on my body, his cock grinding between my legs, and his warm lips tormenting me like the sweetest caress against my neck.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
When I woke this morning, there was no message scrawled on my mirror, and a part of me hated it. I’ve started to look forward to his creepy little lipstick messages and knowing he was in my room while I slept. How fucked up is that? Maybe I’m wrong and just missed it after oversleeping and waking up with a killer hangover. I had to grab the essay that I spent the rest of my night typing and then rush out of there in the hopes of making it to school on time.
I didn’t. I barely scraped by and barged into homeroom just as the teacher was marking off students’ names. He gave me a free pass because I’m new, but the warning in his tone was clear—I won’t be so lucky next time.
English was up first, and I handed in my essay, which took a weight off my shoulders. Following that, my day went back to normal … well, as normal as it’ll ever be at this school.