Because of You (27 page)

I smile to myself when I hear the wariness in his voice.

Could he possibly be jealous of Finn?

“Yes, just friends. We met in elementary school. He was a loner because he lived in the town’s only orphanage, and I was pretty much in the same boat because my family had a lot of money and when you come from money it can make people petty and resentful. So we stuck together and defended each other when kids were nasty on the playground,” I explain, thinking back to that time and smiling when I picture a ten-year-old Finn shoving some boy who had just called me a rich bitch. “Finn went into the Marines right out of high school, and when he came back injured, he couldn’t get hired anywhere. Surprisingly, it was really easy to get my mother to agree to hire him as my bodyguard. It’s the one time I didn’t have to fight with her.”

We round the bend that takes us to the end of the trail and slow down our running until we’re walking slowly, stretching our arms as we cool down.

“So, you guys never hooked up? I mean, friends hook up all the time. Sometimes you need to scratch an itch and no one else is around. And he’s a good looking guy. And
always
around you. Chicks like Marines and all that ‘ooh-rah’ shit…” Brady trails off, once again not making eye contact at all, and that makes me smile even wider.

“Brady, are you jealous of Finn?” I ask, turning to face him as he holds onto his foot and pulls one of his legs behind him to stretch out the muscles in his thigh.

“What? Jealous?” he asks with a nervous laugh. “Why would I be jealous? I mean, you’ve known him all your life. It would make sense if you guys were together. The media already assumes you are. Every time they spot the two of you in public they take a close-up shot of your left hand looking for an engagement ring.”

He’s rambling now and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard or witnessed. I can never tell Brady that though. Something tells me he wouldn’t take too kindly to being called cute.

“You read tabloid articles about me and Finn?” I ask as I move closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he drops his foot and rests his hands on my shoulders, gently kneading the muscles there.

He rolls his eyes and lets out another awkward laugh before leaning down and kissing my lips quickly before moving back.

“It was just for research. You know, trying to figure you out before I got here.”

We break apart and Brady holds onto my hand as we head across the parking lot towards his truck.

“Mmhmm, research, right,” I mumble with a laugh.

He ignores my comment, opens the passenger door for me, and helps me climb into my seat. When he gets in on his side and starts up the truck, I stare at his profile.

He finally looks over at me, and I raise my eyebrow questioningly, waiting for him to just admit it. My silence and the way I’m looking at him finally gets to him, and he lets out a huge sigh of defeat.

“Okay, fine! I’m jealous as fuck. God dammit, I can’t believe I just said that,” he complains.

I laugh and shake my head in wonder at the fact that he’s actually had these thoughts in his head.

“I swear to you there has never been nor will there ever be something between Finn and me. He’s
just
a friend. You have nothing to worry about.”

Brady seems satisfied with my answer, and I lean over the center console to kiss his cheek. He quickly turns his face though and my lips press against his. I bring my hand up and place it against the day old stubble on his face, liking the way it feels against the palm of my hand. He nibbles teasingly at my lips before gently sliding his tongue past them and tangling it with my own.

I could kiss this man forever and never grow tired of it. His lips are soft but firm, and his tongue sweeps through my mouth slowly and gently as if he’s trying to taste every single inch of it. He sucks lightly on my tongue and a whimper escapes my lips. Brady slows down the kiss and gives me one last chaste peck before pulling away and shifting the truck into gear.

“You know, now that I think about it, Finn and I did go on a few dates back in high school to test the waters,” I tell him teasingly, trying to pay him back for getting me worked up with that kiss and then pulling away before I was ready.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Brady asks with a laugh.

I snicker to myself as I look away from his sparkling green eyes, the laughter dying on my lips as I see something stuck to the front of the windshield right in front of me.

“Stop the truck,” I tell Brady softly as he begins backing out of the parking space.

“Stop the truck!” I shout in a panic as he slams on the breaks and looks over at me in confusion at my outburst.

I fumble with the handle and fling open the door, standing up on the running board of the truck to lean out and around the windshield to pull what I saw out from under the wiper.

Getting back into the truck and slamming the door closed, I stare in horror at the photo I hold in my hand. It’s a picture of Brady and me in this very truck from the night we were at June’s. My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I take my eyes off of the intimate moment someone caught on camera to read the words penned in black marker right at the top.

I read them four times before Brady finally snatches the photo out of my hand and growls in anger when he sees what someone has done—what they’ve said and what it means.

“All that beautiful, blonde hair will be spilling over my thighs soon. I can’t wait to wrap my hands around all those silky strands and force your mouth where I want it to go,” Brady reads aloud, practically spitting each word from his mouth with the force of his fury.

My stomach clenches in revulsion and fear. My chin quivers as I watch Brady’s fists clutch tightly to the photo until he’s crumpled it so hard that it’s unreadable and his knuckles are stark white.

He reaches across my body and pops open the glove box, shoving the ruined photo inside and slamming it closed before putting the truck back into reverse and peeling out of the parking lot. He doesn’t say a word to me as we drive through town. I have my arms wrapped protectively around my body as I hunch against the door of the truck, staring out at the passing landscape and swiping angrily at the tears that have now started to fall.

This disgusting human being took something amazing between Brady and me and turned it dirty; a moment in time where I felt free and alive is now tainted by some faceless person. All this time I’ve been fooling myself thinking that I wouldn’t let this person get to me. Even after he attacked me outside that bar, I thought I could put on a brave face and it would all blow over quickly without ruining a piece of myself in the process.

The rearview mirror on the passenger side of the truck is angled in such a way that I can see myself in it as I rest my head against the window. I stare angrily at all of my
blonde, beautiful hair
that I took down from its high ponytail after the run. It’s wild and untamed and even though my mother has always been the one to insist it remain long, I usually don’t mind it. I love my hair and the confidence it gives me. I love being able to hide behind it when I need to pretend to be someone else. Now all I see when I look in the mirror is a dirty pair of hands wrapping a handful of it around his fists and forcing me to do something I don’t want.

I tear my gaze away from my reflection when I realize Brady just drove right by the road that would take us to my cabin.

“Where are we going?” I ask, breaking the silence in the cab of the truck.

“Someplace safe,” he replies rigidly.

An hour later, I stand in front of the small mirror in the bathroom staring at the woman reflected back. She looks nothing like me. But I guess that’s what I wanted when I locked myself in here and found a pair of scissors in the medicine cabinet.

“Someplace safe” turned out to be Brady’s three bedroom townhouse on the outskirts of town. And he was right. It’s definitely safe. He’s got more deadbolts on his door than an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen in New York City, and his security system is more state-of-the-art than mine. He's turned the walk-in closet in his bedroom into a panic room, complete with a steel door and a keypad for entry and exit, and there is a table set up inside with monitors that show the entryway inside the front door and all around the exterior of the house.

I had barely glanced at his furnishings as he walked me through the home, showing me where everything was, and I regret that now. It's strange being here in his domain and around his things. A man’s home is like a window into his soul. It tells you if he’s a confirmed bachelor who never wants to grow up or a family man with a big heart who keeps pictures of his loved ones on his mantle and hung on his walls.

His sister and niece weren’t home when we got here but I can hear a female voice talking softly to Brady on the other side of the door now and I assume it’s Gwen.

“
How long has she been in there?”

“
I don’t know, a fucking long time,” Brady whispers angrily.

“
Don’t get lippy with me. Did you even knock on the door to see if she was okay?”

“
No. I figured she needed some space.”

“
You’re an idiot. Women don’t need space even when we say we do. You should check on her.”

“
You’re standing right there, YOU check on her.”

“
I can’t just knock on the door of the bathroom Layla Carlysle is in! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“
Oh my God, she’s just a person. A normal, smart, amazing person. You can knock on the door, Gwen.”

I’d laugh out loud right now at their whispered argument if I wasn’t so numb. Hearing the two of them bicker back and forth makes me wish I had a sibling.

“
I knew it! You really DO have a crush on her!”

“
Will you shut up? I don’t have a crush on her. I’m not twelve,” Brady argues.

“
Fine, then you’re in love with her.”

There’s a long stretch of silence outside the door, and I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting for Brady’s reply.

“
You’re pesky. And annoying. Like a housefly. Go away,” Brady finally says, not responding to Gwen’s statement of love.

I let out the breath I was holding, not sure if I’m happy or disappointed that he didn’t say something in regards to Gwen’s comment, which is completely unfounded anyway. He’s not in love with me. That’s just silly. We’ve only known each other for a month, and we live in two completely different worlds.

I don’t hear any more of the conversation through the door and realize that they’re probably both just standing there waiting for me to emerge. I take a deep breath figuring I might as well get this over with. I walk over to the door and unlock it, turning the handle and opening it slowly. I glance around the door frame into an empty hallway, thankful that Brady and Gwen aren’t standing inches from the closed door and staring at it, waiting for it to open.

I make my way down the hallway and notice several framed photos hanging on the wall of Gwen and her daughter Emma, Gwen and Brady, Brady and Emma, and a few of all three of them together. There’s one last photo next to all the others of Brady and three other men in their Navy Dress Whites, and I know immediately that these are the men he talked about on our run, the friends he spoke so highly of and admires. I smile to myself despite how I’m feeling, realizing that Brady’s home is nothing like a college fraternity house.

I step into the living room and find Gwen seated on the edge of the coffee table and Brady pacing back and forth behind the couch with his hands clasped behind his head.

They both look up when I enter the room, and their jaws drop when I step out of the dark hallway and into the brightly lit room.

“Oh wow,” Gwen whispers, a smile slowly turning up the corners of her mouth until she’s full-on grinning at me.

“Holy shit,” Brady mutters as he stops pacing and his hands drop down to his sides.

I reach one of my hands up to tug self-consciously at the blunt ends of my hair that now rest an inch above my shoulders instead of eight inches past them.

“You look amazing!” Gwen says, standing up quickly from the coffee table and rushing over to stand in front of me. “I’m Gwen, by the way, and I love your music! I’m a huge fan!”

Her gushing and the genuine smile on her face as she stares at my hack job makes me feel a little better about what I’ve done. I eye the blue and purple streaks in her dark hair, and I immediately wish I had the guts to do something that drastic. I guess this will have to do for now.

“Thank you,” I tell her with a smile. “I’m sorry for taking over your bathroom for so long. And I promise I’ll clean up the hair all over the place.”

Gwen reaches out and rubs my arm gently.

“Nonsense. Brady is the neat freak, so he can worry about it while you and I watch some mindless reality TV before my whirlwind of a daughter gets home from school,” Gwen says with a laugh.

At the mention of Brady, my eyes leave hers and wander over to him as he stands perfectly still behind the couch staring at me. Gwen follows my gaze and I see her give her brother a dirty look and not so subtly nod her head in my direction.