A strangled sound escapes Brayden’s throat, but his expression remains blank.
I hit the heel of my hand against my forehead. “TMI. So sorry.”
A long silence ensues. Brayden leans his head back and gazes up at the ceiling for over a minute as if there’s an answer up there for him. When he finally makes eye contact with me again, his lip quirks up. “You know you look like you’re holding your breath?”
I let out a heavy exhale. “Sorry.”
“Please don’t be sorry. I like spending time with you.”
And I like spending time with you.
“And Leleila.” Brayden locks eyes with me as I stand to leave. “You deserve to be treated like the incredible, brilliant, beautiful, funny woman you are. No matter who you’re with, I don’t want you to ever forget that.”
My throat constricts, and I can’t answer him.
“One other thing? I don’t think anybody else can understand or analyze this.” He doesn’t expound on what he means by “this,” but I assume it’s us—him and me. “And to be perfectly honest, I really don’t care what anybody else thinks about it. When you really look closely at this world, there are a lot of things that don’t make sense, but that doesn’t always matter, you know?”
I nod. Yes, this friendship I’m in with Brayden while being engaged doesn’t make much sense. But our friendship works, and that’s the most complicated part of all.
* * *
Brayden
My house feels empty as soon as Leleila leaves. I didn’t realize it was missing anything until she came by. The silence left by her absence is nearly painful.
A sense of frustration comes over me as I clean the dishes from dinner. I haven’t been looking for a relationship. Quite the opposite—I’ve been enjoying being single and coming home alone. Until Leleila walked into Big Sky Grocer, and now I feel pathetically lonely when she’s not around. Outside of my cousins’ significant others, she’s the first woman I’ve really been friends with—just friends with—ever. And the fact that I also want to take her clothes off and make love to her? That just makes me want her more.
I like hanging out with her. I like hearing about her life and telling her about mine. She and I are opposites, and yet somehow, we fit.
My phone rings, and I groan when I see who it is. Dylan Wild is the number one quarterback in the league for a reason—he fights for what he wants until he gets it. And I have no doubt that right now, he’s going to want to know who Leleila is. He hasn’t called since Jasalie was here visiting, and by now, I’m sure she’s told him the story.
I swipe the screen. “Hey, Dyl.”
“Bray. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Congrats on Sunday’s win. You guys looked awesome out there.”
“Thanks. Hey, can you do me a favor for the wedding reception?”
I chuckle. “A wedding favor. Jasalie’s really got you good, doesn’t she?”
He laughs. “She does. And I love her, but I have no clue what she’s talking about half the time, between the flower arrangements and the food…anyway, don’t kill me, but…”
I groan. “What does Jasalie need done in person?”
“She’s changed her mind on the wedding cake flavors.”
“Dude…”
“I know. I would ask Colt’s mom or mine to do it, but my mom is away with my dad on business, and you know how Colt’s mom is diabetic and never eats sugar. You want me to call your mom instead?”
“No,” I say quickly. “That’ll just get her revved up about why none of her own sons are married yet.”
Dylan chuckles. “I figured as much. I’ll text you the address and the time—the lady at the shop said she’d fit you in next week.”
“That’s fine. And I’ve got a favor of my own, actually.”
“Shoot.”
