Really, it was okay. Whatever his reasons were, I didn’t care anymore. I cried, I grieved, and like every Barreto before me, I was going to move the hell on with my life. I was happy, regardless of whether I knew what I wanted to do with my life or not.
But more than ever, I wanted Brandon’s ass torn up by a dozen hung porn stars.
"Let's go outside," I told my ex in a voice so calm I didn't know I was capable of.
His eyebrows furrowed as his face went a little pink. "What?"
"Come outside with me, Bran," I said, indicating with my head toward the exit. "We should talk."
Those eyes that I'd once cared for narrowed in my direction. He knew me; he knew that even if I was calm, he'd crossed the fucking line calling Eli my nickname for him. Some things were unforgivable. His brunette girlfriend tugged at his hand as she shook her head.
I shot my brother a smirk; he was standing there with a flushed face and rigid jaw. All signs of the devil inside of him were visible, waiting to burst out and destroy. "Come on, Brandon. Let's go. I'll only take a minute."
"Baby," the girl whined softly.
I'd never been clingy with him and maybe that was my mistake, but I couldn't find it in me to bother wondering if that had been a factor in our split. If Brandon had wanted to talk to someone, talk to one of his fans, I'd never cared. I figured if he wanted to cheat on me he could do so any time he wanted and there was nothing I could do about it. But this bitch was going to learn that I definitely didn't want his pimple-butt ass. "I don't want his pickle dick." I glanced at Eli when I said it. "I just want to talk to him for a minute, and I don't want to embarrass him in front of everyone."
Sacha tugged at the back of my pants again, his fingers dipping deeper into the area between the denim and my panties. "Gaby," he warned.
"I didn't know you'd be here," Brandon cut off Sacha. "I figured I could avoid—"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. He thought he could avoid Eli? Oh, please. "I don't care," I piped up in a sing-song voice. "Get off the bus and talk to me. You owe me." I wanted to add a “motherfucker” at the end but I kept it to myself.
He knew he owed me. I didn't bother waiting to see him get off the couch; I glanced over at Eli once more before I turned around. He was clenching his fists and staring at Brandon like he could kill him by looks alone. I passed Sacha on the way out, circling his wrist quickly with my thumb and index finger as best as I could. I didn't meet his eyes, but it wasn't because I was embarrassed that he'd learned that I'd been dumped, much less over the phone. It happens to every girl. I think. Maybe without the phone part. Touching Sacha was more to just tell him that I was fine. That I wasn’t going to do anything I’d end up regretting.
In no time, Brandon was tumbling out of the bus after me, closing the door behind him. Four months had passed since the last time I’d seen him and of course he looked exactly the same: his dark hair was perfectly styled, the facial hair that he kept just long enough to be called a beard the same as always, and his body was still just muscular enough to be considered fit. Was he good looking? Yeah, but who cared? I could go online and find thousands of guys that were just as equally, if not more, attractive as him.
I could look at the guys on tour with me.
Brandon stopped and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes boring into mine. "Gaby, I'm—"
"Shut up."
Brandon’s eyes widened at my snappy tone, and I didn’t miss the way his shoulders reeled back in surprise. “Why are you being like this?”
Why was I being like this? Seriously? “Are you joking? Or are you really asking me why I’m pissed off that you’re here?”
“This isn’t a joke,” he replied.
“Of course it isn’t a fucking joke. You’re here, and you shouldn’t be. What’s difficult to understand about that?” I snapped.
“Baby, you’ve always been so sweet—”
My vision went red. He’d gone there with the b-word. Holy fuck.
“This isn’t how you usually act—” he kept going, oblivious to the fact he wasthis closeto getting shanked.
Honestly, if there wasn’t steam coming out of my ears, I would have been surprised.
This isn’t how you usually act.
Baby, you’ve always been so sweet.
Gaby, what are you doing with your life?
I can’t do this anymore…
Everyone had his or her breaking point, and I’d reached mine.
