“So.”He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your ex-boyfriendcheated on you for years, finally confessed he was in love with someone else,and then sent you an invitation to his engagement party just a few months afterbreaking up?”
“Afteryears of telling me he would never want to get married,” I reminded him, beforetaking another sip.
Witha nod, he dropped his hand to the table again and worked his jaw from side toside. “Right. So, uh, stop me if I’m out of line here, but—why the hell wouldyou allow yourself to waste a minute being upset about this?”
Mymouth dropped open, stunned by the blunt question from the mouth of a man I hadonly just learned the name of. “Uh, yeah, I would say you’rewayout ofline.”
Brandonplaced a warm hand over mine, and I hoped he hadn’t noticed my body stiffenunder his touch. “Okay, yeah, maybe, but you have to know—this guyisanasshole.”
Iopened my mouth to protest angrily, narrowing my eyes at him, because how darehe insult the man I had intended on spending my life with. But Brandon held upa pointer finger. “While he was busy screwing around, as far as you knew, itwas still just the two of you. He might have been over you a long time ago, butthe fact is that, right now, you’renotover him. And he has theaudacity to send you a goddamn invitation tocelebratehis engagement tothe guy he allowed to help ruin your relationship?” He leaned back in hischair, sending his blue gaze upward as he shook his head. “Gay or not,thatmakes him an asshole, Holly, and it makes me feel …” He bit his lip for amoment, as though he were searching for the word. “Sad. I feel sad foryou that you would waste anymore of your time feeling depressed about this whenhe clearly doesn’t really give a single fuck about how you’re doing.”
AsI quietly wondered to myself if I should storm out of there, I said, “You haveno—”
“Oh,so he’s called you then?” He interrupted me with a cock of a brow. “Or is hemore of a Facebook guy?” I shut my mouth immediately. Brandon tilted his headwith a smirk that I would have slapped from his face, had I not been too busycrossing my arms defensively. “That’s what I thought.”
“Wow,”I breathed, unable to say anything else. My eyes dropped to the table, my handsturning the empty cup absentmindedly.
Iknew I should have given him a piece of my mind, or better yet, walked the hellout of there. But the truth in what he had said hit harder than howinappropriate his comments had been. Somewhere inside, I felt that I had neededto hear someone say those things, and nobody had. Everybody else had been tooclose to truly and honestly slam me in the face with the reality of thesituation, but not him.
Hesqueezed his eyes and blew out a heavy breath of air. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’thave said anything. I just—”
“No,um …” I stammered, trying to find my words.
“No,I was out of line. I don’t even know why I …” He stopped himself, and with abite of his lip, he gave his head a quick shake. A few of the long strands ofhair fell from behind his ear to lie against his cheek. “Wait, I have to saysomething else, because I really wish that someone had said this to me onceupon a time.” He covered my shoulder with one of his hands, and I fought myselfto not find too much relief in the warmth. “I’msorrythishappened to you. It sucks. It sucks a lot, and I can tell you it’s probablygoing to suck for a while. But I promise that one day you’re going to wake up,and you’re not going to remember when it stopped hurting so goddamn badly.That’s the day you’ll realize that this was never worth your pain in the firstplace, and I hope that day comes sooner for you than it did for me.”
Theemotions swallowed me, but for the first time in months, sadness wasn’t one ofthem. Grateful. I was grateful beyond contemplation for his words, and for histime. Time that he was under no obligation to give to me, and not knowing whatto say, I leaned over and wrapped my arms around his neck, finding my cheekcomfortable against his shoulder. A hesitant arm came around my back, stifflyhugging me against his body.
“Thankyou,” I said, my voice muffled by the leather of his jacket. “I really neededthat.”
Hishand pressed tensely against my back, and I heard him inhale, holding hisbreath before relaxing and exhaling completely. “I know,” he said, his breathwarm against my ear.
Thehand against the middle of my back began to rub gently, moving only an inch ortwo in a soothing circle, and Brandon leaned his cheek against the top of myhead. It was comforting, and for just a second, I relaxed against his shoulderand allowed myself to enjoy the relief I felt in that hug.
Andthen, as suddenly as it began, the movement of his hand came to a halt as thesound of loafers approached.
“Um… Brandon.” It was Bill and his voice was timid, suggesting that he wasinterrupting something not meant to be disturbed.
Ihastily unlocked myself from his embrace, feeling oddly the same way I did whenmy dad walked in on me practicing my kissing techniques on a Backstreet Boysposter. How had I forgotten that there were other people there? I suddenlynoticed Scott singing ridiculously loud to something blasting through hisheadphones, and Jessie was pushing around a cart of books, sliding them ontoshelves as she went, and then, of course, there was Bill doing whatever it wasBill does. He was currently holding a broom, which might have suggested he wassweeping, or at the very least making himself look busy to keep from gettingyelled at by Jessie.
“Yeah,what’s up, Bill?” Brandon said, turning to face him.
“Hey,I see you’re getting to know Holly here,” Bill noted, his face lighting up.“She’s one of Jessie’s new regulars at Story Time, you know.”
“Isthat so?” Brandon turned his striking blue eyes on me.
Inodded, my hands busying themselves on my empty cup. “Yeah, Anna and I are hereevery Tuesday and Thursday. She’s the little girl you battered,” I remindedhim, with a teasing smile and a nervous laugh.
“Ah,that’s right. Your daughter with the stone head. My knee is still feeling theeffects of that one. Just stopped limping yesterday.”
Myhands flew from my cup, startling them both. “Oh, God, no.No. Not mydaughter.” They both looked at me with brown and grey eyebrows knitted withconfusion, and I realized I had never had any reason to tell anybody what myrelation was to her—nor had I ever alluded to anybody that I was actually ababysitter. “She’s my niece,” I said in a small voice.
“Ah,very nice,” Bill said with a smile, as though that explained everything. “It’snice you kids are getting acquainted. You make a good match.” He winked atBrandon, who pushed his hair back in response.
Billgripped the broom and grimaced regretfully. “Actually, I came over hereto tell you we’re closing in five minutes. I’d let you stay a little longer,but …”
Witha shake of his head, Brandon grabbed our cups and smiled at Bill. “It’s fine.We were just getting out of here, anyway.”
“Well,I guess I’ll be seeing you both soon then.” With a clap on Brandon’s back and akind smile in my direction, Bill walked away, gentling pushing the broom everyfew feet or so, and glancing at Jessie as he went.
