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19
Elizabeth
“Who are you going to the game with again?” Cat asks, eyeing me as I put my coat on.
I was purposely vague when asking her to watch the kids, not wanting to deal with a full interrogation. But Brenden and I are friends, and I’ll have to deal with all this at some point.
“Brenden,” I answer, cringing inwardly in anticipation of her reaction.
It’s a little strange how easily my friendship with him has fallen into place. He has this way of making me feel comfortable enough to be myself. There’s no need to put on airs. It’s rare for me to feel so free with other people.
Xander was my best friend and the love of my life, but I still often found myself trying to be what I thought he wanted me to be instead of simply being myself. I felt a need to be worthy of his love and admiration.
With Brenden, the need to impress him isn’t there. That’s what makes this friendship so easy.
“Brenden? As in Brenden Scott, the guy we met at dinner weeks ago?” Her eyebrows shoot up right along with her voice as she follows me into the small foyer.
“That’s the one.” My eyes narrow. I didn’t realize she knew his last name.
“When did this happen? I thought you blew him off?”
I shrug my shoulders, looking at my reflection in the mirror by the door. “We ran into each other a few times after that and talked. He’s a fun guy. I figured we might as well start planning to hang out.”
Brenden and I have been talking every night since Monday—not that I’ll be sharing that information with Cat. I’m still adjusting to him calling me every night. Our conversations flow so naturally, like we’ve known each other forever. It’s nice to have someone to talk to.
“So…are you guys dating? Is he the reason you’ve seemed so much livelier lately?”
Brenden has played a role in my good mood lately. But any time I consider dating, there’s a tightness in my chest. It’s almost suffocating. “No, we’re not dating. Just friends.”
“And you’re going to the game tonight? The two of you alone, as friends?” She crosses her arms, eyebrow cocked.
“Correct,” I huff, grabbing my purse from the entry table.
“Uh huh…I see. Well, have fun.”
“Will do. Thanks again for watching the kids. I’ll be home right after the game. Call me if you need anything.”
“We’ll be fine. You don’t need to rush home. I can stay the night, if need be,” she says, smirking.
“Bye, Cat.” I sigh, shaking my head as I walk out the door.
Brenden
Jon walks into the living room where I’m perched, staring out the window waiting for Lizzy. “Tell me again why you’re ditching me and our season tickets for some woman you aren’t even sleeping with?”
“Because she invited me. Besides, they’re great seats right on the ice. So much better than our nosebleed seats.” I shrug, my eyes never meeting his.
She pulls into the driveway, and my pulse quickens as I wipe my palms down my thighs. My nerves have been shot all damn day. The anticipation of seeing her this evening has kept me from being able to sit still or think straight. Things have been going so well between us, I’m terrified I’ll screw it up somehow. I’d say it’s only a matter of time. I don’t know how to do relationships. Of any kind, really. I’m convinced Jon and Allison either felt sorry for me or were afraid of me when they took me on as a friend. And they’re too nice to kick me to the curb now.
Having someone to share my day with isn’t something I ever thought I wanted or would have, but now, the thought of losing that—losing her—makes my stomach knot.
“Bullshit.” Jon steps up beside me, watching with me as Lizzy approaches the house. “You love sitting in the Cellblock. This is about her.” He gestures his head in her direction before turning to look at me. “I think little Bren might finally be falling for a girl.”
“Fuck off,” I hiss, flipping him off as the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house.
Jon pats me on the shoulder, laughing before walking into the kitchen.
I take a few deep breaths, shaking out and stretching my muscles on my way to answer the door. My cocky smile is in place by the time I swing open the door, only to falter as my eyes land on her. It feels like the wind’s been knocked right out of me. She’s both adorable and sexy in her oversized player’s jersey. Jeans and converse, her long hair pulled up into a messy bun.
“Are you ready to go?” she asks as I continue to gape at her.
“Uh, yeah.” Shaking my head, I reach to grab my coat from the hook by the door. “Let’s do this.”
