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“You got a good family. That’s a good house you live in now. And there aren’t any Lansers in Rawley, that’s gotta be a good thing. It just took me awhile to accept it, you know. But I get it now.
“Brian,” I murmured, stepping closer, “I loved you. Not Jace.”
He grinned, the look stabbing me in the heart. “No, you didn’t.” He let out a deep breath. “You loved him, you just never did anything about it.”
He raised a hand, brushing a tear from my cheek.
“I loved you,” I whispered. “Jace was just—”
Brian shook his head. “You loved Jace. I know that—now. I knew it then, I just…didn’t want to admit it.”
“Brian, don’t.” I brushed some more tears away. Fucking tears—a nuisance all the damn time. “Don’t…okay.”
He flicked away his own tear and then pulled me into his arms. Resting his chin on top of my head, he murmured, “I love you too. I’ll fucking be here, loving you until I die.”
I wrapped my arms around him and sighed. Resting into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace once more. This had been my home—in his arms, for so many years.
He’d been my rock. He’d just never intended to be.
And it all started back when he tried to brush me off in the fourth grade. And I’d ‘twisted his balls.’ We were Bonnie and Clyde. We thought we ruled our fucking school and town. And we’d been right. We had ruled. But that part of our lives was over.
I pulled away and looked up at him. “Whatever I felt for Jace—it was you. Okay. It was you.”
He couldn’t say anymore. I saw it.
So I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him one last time—a tender kiss goodbye.
Then I pulled back and walked away from him, leaving the only home I knew behind.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It started to rain again. . And it totally fit my mood.
Tray and I didn’t talk as we drove back. It was a good silence, a comfortable silence. And I didn’t stop to let myself get scared. I couldn’t, not right then. Not after saying goodbye to Brian.
When we pulled into his driveway, it was eerily empty. As we walked into the main house, and into the kitchen, our footsteps on the tile was deafening.
Tray went first to the fridge and pulled out some food. Pizza—what else? As he heated it up, he jumped on the counter and looked at me.
“What?” My voice was hoarse and painful.
He just watched me, without saying a word.
The microwave alarm rang and he jumped back off, putting his pizza on a plate. Grabbing my hand he pulled me out onto the back patio, where I’d found his friends this afternoon when I first arrived.
It was beautiful. Sitting there with the rain coming down on the glass that encased every wall except the open wall that connected to the house. Tray sat and ate while I pulled a chair up beside him and curled my knees against my chest. I sighed, resting my cheek on my knee as I looked sideways to Tray.
“When was the last time you saw your brother?”
Tray frowned slightly, I saw he was a little surprised by my question. “When I told him I wasn’t helping him against Dad,” he said smoothly.”
“What was that like?”
“It was rough,” he replied.
“Did you get to say goodbye to him?”
Tray let out a brusque laugh. “Fuck no. Chance beat the shit out of me and then took off after telling me he didn’t want anything to do with me. Dad screwed our family up and I was supposed to pick sides. Dad never got along with Chance anyway, even when I was little. I don’t remember a lot about their relationship. But I do remember them fighting, all the time.”
