I love them, but sometimes, I feel smothered under their protection. Even if there was a guy that liked me, they wouldn’t dare come close. None other than Jude, anyway. But that guy really did live for pissing Bowen off. Likely half the reason he asked me out to begin with. The point is, all I wanted was a night to be me. To feel what it may be like without them always hovering. They all had plans tonight; I didn’t. I didn’t think they would even know what I got up to.
Wrong.
And thank fuck.
“I can’t believe you thought that prick had good intentions,” Brett says, seething all over again when he stops to look at me. “He called you horrible shit sophomore year when you came out, and you thought, ‘yeah, let me hop on the back of this guy’s motorcycle and go to a random house party with him.’” He kicks at the ground and curses, grabbing at his hair. “Fuck. I’m sorry. This wasnotyour fault. No part of this was your fault.Fuck.”
It sounds so much worse when he puts it like that.
Brett huffs a laugh. “Just wait until Tuck and Bowen get here.”
That statement has my legs moving, pushing off the side of the house and moving toward him. “Not necessary.”
“Fuck that.”
“Brett…”
“You got beat up, Kit!” Brett is breathing so fast, and his face is half-crazed when he takes in my aching features. I’ve never once doubted his love for me. It’s so pure, so honest. I offer him a sad smile, shrugging.
“You saved me, Brett-man. Just like you always do.” I wrap my arms around his center and squeeze until he slowly, so slowly, relaxes into the hold. UntilIcan stop thinking about what would have happened had Brett not been at the same party I stupidly went to. Had he not walked in to save the day when he heard someone yell. He had no idea it was me in that room until he busted in. The look on his face is a memory I won’t be forgetting any time soon.
He hugs me back. He’s always given the best hugs. His arms tighten their hold even more, and I sag into the embrace. For a long moment, we just stay like that, standing in the driveway, our hearts pounding. His chin rests on top of my head, and his voice is quieter now, but no less serious.
“You could have been really hurt.”
“Iwasreally hurt,” I joke, but it lands flat. Neither of us laugh because it’s really not funny at all.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, blue eyes rimmed with red. “You know Bowen will kill him.”
I wince again, not from pain this time, just the idea of Bowen seeing me like this. Of him knowing that I let my guard down with someone just to feelwanted. Someone like Mikey. My cheeks burn with shame because I didn’t care who it was. It could have been anyone.
“Bowen isn’t killing anyone because you’re not telling him who did it. I just…wanted to exist, Brett. Like a normal seventeen-year-old without one of you breathing down my neck.”
Brett’s jaw clenches, but he nods. “I get it. I do. Doesn’t mean that I would ever be cool with you hanging out with a fucking dickhead like Mikey.”
“I didn’t think he’d hit me.”
“I bet you didn’t think he’d force his tongue in your mouth, either. And then you didn’t think he’d try to shove his hand down your pants, despite you yellingnoso loud, I heard you over the shitty music in the hall. I should have busted in the room right then.” His voice trembles now, somewhere between fury and heartbreak. “God, Kit.”
I cross my arms, blinking fast. “Can we not talk about that part?”
“Okay,” he says, softer now. “Okay.”
He looks down the street like he’s expecting Tucker and Bowen to pull up any minute. I don’t know if he texted them, and I don’t have it in me to ask.
“I can’t go inside my house like this. Not tonight. My parents…” I whisper, rubbing my sleeve over my busted lip.
“Then stay at my house.” Brett doesn’t hesitate. “You think I won’t make up a story to cover for you? If that’s what you want, I will. Even though I think you should tell someone about this, Kit…”
“No,” I shake my head vehemently.
“Okay.” The frustration is bleeding back into his voice, and I see it pulling back down his brow. He sucks in a slow breath, nodding again. “Okay, so I come up with a story. Tonight, you get to wear Bowen’s hoodie and crash in his bed. He’ll take the couch.”
“Brett.”
“What?”
“I don’t know if I can face him tonight.”
