The ding signaling another text drew Brandon from his thoughts.
Have you been calling her since we took our break? Did you wait even that long before making your move?
What does it matter to you? he replied. Aren’t you getting married this weekend?
Have you been chasing her?
Brandon didn’t bother to deny the attraction. Was waiting to see if you were going to wake up and realize you’re screwing up your life.
This time when there was no response, Brandon figured it was just as well. They weren’t close enough to be so up-front with each other. He leaned over to return his phone to the nightstand—but another message appeared.
I have no choice.
Propping his pillows behind his back, he typed, Yes, you do. Don’t let your sense of duty drag you into making a bad situation worse.
What about the baby?
What about it? Did you ever think she might’ve gotten pregnant on purpose? That she’s manipulating you? Brandon wouldn’t put it past her.
She’s still pregnant. You’re telling me you wouldn’t even try to create a family?
You can still support the baby, still be a good father regardless. Maybe it’s not optimal to do it single, but you can make it work. That sort of thing happens all the time.
There was a long wait before the next text came in. Brandon had just decided Kyle must’ve gone to sleep when he heard the reply arrive.
Not to me it doesn’t. I want my kid to have my name, my presence. I don’t want to be a part-time dad with a stepparent joining the action.
Brandon could sense the resolve in those words. He could easily understand the sentiment behind them, too. But he was afraid that Kyle’s background and misguided nobility were pulling him into a nightmare of catastrophic proportions.
So how should he answer? What Kyle did or didn’t do wasn’t any of his business. He’d spent the past decade telling himself he didn’t really care about his stepbrother. But…he couldn’t help admiring Kyle’s determination to fall on his sword. He was a much better person than Brandon had ever given him credit for. Maybe Bob had a right to be so damn proud. Brandon couldn’t have made himself marry Noelle.
But no one—even Olivia—knew her the way he did. Although he was trying to believe she’d grown up and changed, he’d seen her at her worst, when she was obsessed and unrelenting and so narcissistic he couldn’t even like her. He’d done everything he could to discourage her from pursuing him eight years ago, to let her know he wasn’t interested. But it made no impact whatsoever. If anything, she became more determined. He’d come home to find her waiting in his driveway, turn to see her staring in his window, “bump” into her so many times a day she could only be following him. He couldn’t imagine a woman so out of touch with reality and the wants and desires of other people being successful in a marriage, even to a white knight like Kyle, who was willing to do ninety percent of the work.
I wish you’d listen to me, he wrote. There’s something missing in Noelle.
I already know she had a crush on you. She was just being young and stupid and too forward.
Too forward? Her behavior went far beyond that. You’re saying the Noelle she is now would never cross the lines she crossed back then?
Of course not, Kyle responded. Anyway, I could never undo the damage I’ve done. I can’t go back to Olivia while Noelle has my baby. I might as well have some integrity and stand up and take responsibility for my actions.
Brandon wanted to reiterate that he’d be sorry if he married Noelle. But what good would it do? Kyle had made up his mind and nothing was going to change it. Then you need to let go of Olivia.
Again, Kyle’s answer took a while to arrive. But Brandon waited because he knew it would come.
Won’t be easy.
*
Olivia woke up to a splitting headache. It took effort just to open her eyes. Thank God the room was dark. She could see sunlight peeking around the cracks in the blinds, enough that she could make out an overburdened desk, a computer, a ship in a bottle and some tribal masks on the wall—but she didn’t recognize any of it. Where was she?
Then it came to her. She’d gotten drunk last night, and Brandon had brought her home. She could remember him fighting to keep her clothes on. She could also remember trying to kiss him. She’d wanted him so badly….
Surprisingly enough, he was the one who’d resisted. “You’re not interested?” she’d breathed.
“Not like this, sweetheart,” he’d told her and helped her remove only her shorts before tucking her in. She’d gotten the impression he’d been tempted despite those words, was fairly certain he’d almost turned back at the door. But she was embarrassed all the same. Now both of the Arnold girls had thrown themselves at him.
Kyle’s actions had knocked her on her butt and she couldn’t seem to get her legs under her again. She never would’ve behaved like that otherwise.
Brandon interrupted her moment of regret with a brisk knock. “Olivia? You awake?”
She cringed at the fact that she was going to have to face him, and so soon. She’d made a complete fool of herself last night, first by getting drunk, then by trying to get him into bed. She still wasn’t sure what he’d meant by, “Not like this.” Was he saying he didn’t want to take advantage of her while she was under the influence of alcohol? Or that he didn’t want to become a surrogate for Kyle?
She couldn’t imagine he’d refrain because of Kyle. Brandon probably preferred she be in love with someone else. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about her falling in love with him.
“I’m awake, but I’m not very happy about it,” she replied.
He poked his head inside. Freshly showered and wearing a black V-neck T-shirt with a pair of well-worn jeans and flip-flops, he looked better than ever—which was saying a lot. She wasn’t sure what accounted for that, unless just getting to know him made him more and more attractive. Maybe it was that she finally had some respect for him, since he’d rejected her advances.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She shoved a hand through her messy hair. “Like roadkill.”
He chuckled. “I was afraid of that. Would you like something to eat?”
Could her stomach tolerate food? She didn’t dare take the risk. “No, but a pain pill would be nice.” She knew he had some; he’d provided it yesterday. “What time is it?”
“Nearly nine.”