Chapter Sixteen
Brandy
There had been a noticeable shift between Nathan and myself these past few days. It only got worse after the hockey game and my work schedule wasn't making it any better because I was barely home. I just didn't know what our problem was. It was like we weren't in sync anymore and it was starting to get in the way of our relationship.
I really thought fake dating Wyatt would be the answer to our problems. It would get my mother off his ass and relieve some of the pressure I knew he was feeling. And he was all in on the idea of me taking Wyatt to the wedding under the guise of us dating to appease her. Did he regret it? Did he want to come with me instead?
No way was that the case.
I couldn't see him changing his mind about this.
Sure, I could ask, but there was no use. It was only going to stir up more trouble, I knew. He would want to know why I was bringing it up, and probably grow paranoid about Wyatt and I. I shot down his suspicions the first time he asked whether he needed to worry and if I was attracted to him.
But I didn't want to go down that road again.
It was like no matter how hard I tried, the pieces just weren't fitting anymore. Maybe that was because of my job. Maybe I needed to prioritize us more. I mean, Nate hadn't said anything to me about it, but he probably didn't realize anything had changed. Men, I mused, they never saw what was right in front of them.
Trying to get us back on track—yet again—I rushed home from work early to surprise him. I was leaving tomorrow night and wanted to make sure we were good before I took off for Destin.
This had to go well.
He was out for the day, so I knew I'd have the place to myself for a while. I wanted to cook us a nice dinner, but the reality was I was not worth my salt in the kitchen, so I got takeout from an Italian restaurant close by and decided I'd just heat and plate it up.
Dressing in something sexy, I took my hair down and freshened up my makeup, completing the look. I closed my eyes and tried to play out how I wanted the night to go.
If I kept my eyes close, I could see it crystal clear. He'd come up behind me and sweep my hair to the side, bringing his lips down on my neck, his hands on my shoulders. It would feel so good, just like it always did. I'd spin around and look him in the eyes, signaling how bad I wanted him. I'd reach up and grab his muscular arms, letting them travel down until I made a detour and began exploring his chest, his very chiseled chest. "Oh, Wyatt," I'd cry, demanding more from him.
Wait! What?
Oh my goodness, what was wrong with me? No, no, no. This could not be happening.
I was supposed to be picturing my night with my boyfriend, Nathan.
Nate, I reminded myself again.
Not Wyatt.
Not the tall, dark and handsome fantasy that Wyatt was.
But I couldn't seem to stop it. I let out a breath and brought my hand to my lips, where I traced them. It was funny, but no matter how hard I tried to forget, if I closed my eyes, I could still feel the way Wyatt's lips felt on mine that night we first met.
I dragged my bottom lip between my teeth as I thought about him. How he was muscular in all the right places. Tall and wide. Built like a tank, really. And when he had his shirt sleeves rolled up the way he had when I last saw him—oh, boy.
It was almost impossible to deny how badly I wanted that man.
It was almost exactly how I felt that first night we met, but amplified because we'd been spending so much time together lately, and he was even sweeter than I remembered. Yes, he was emotionally damaged, that much was clear, but hot damn, it didn't change anything for me.
I sighed and pushed those thoughts aside. None of this was how I was supposed to be feeling. Not now.
This was wrong. So very wrong.
And a bad idea to boot. Yeah, this was not a good idea. Nothing good could come of thinking about Wyatt that way.
Yes, better we just kept it to what this was—a transaction, an arrangement of sorts.
He was doing me a favor, that was all.
Besides, I had Nate and he was a good man. He loved me. I loved him. I'd do anything for us, like find a fake boyfriend to date. We just had to get over whatever was going on between us right now.
This was all because I was feeling bad, insecure about Nate because he was acting so weird. This was not because of my attraction to Wyatt. No, this was one hundred percent Nate's fault. That was it, I blamed him.
Discarding my whole idea of trying to visualize the night, I walked to the kitchen and decided a better use of my time was unpacking our dinner and heating it up. I already had dessert all taken care of—chocolate syrup, of course. It was Nate's favorite to lick off me.
I heard the door open and was so glad he showed up right on time because I had just finished plating our dishes. "Oh, good," I whispered, slapping my hands together. This is it, I thought, tonight was the night we were going to get back on track. I just knew it.
Without turning around, I exclaimed, "You're right on time."
I felt his arms wrap around my waist from behind. "I see you made dinner," he said, but it came out more as a question.
I chuckled and turned around in his arms, looking up into his eyes. "Actually," I started, and tilted my head toward to the garbage. "Don't give me too much credit. You know I can't cook. I didn't even try, just ordered takeout, heated and plated it."
He peered over the garbage and raised a brow. "That makes more sense."
"Come on," I urged, taking his hand. "It's been a long day, I'm sure."
He grinned. "Maybe for you."
I frowned. "Now, why would you say that?"
He shook his head and took a seat, leaving me standing there stupefied as he picked up his fork and began digging in. "Just forget I said anything." He took a bite and moaned. "This is good. From that place around the corner, right?"
I barely nodded. "Yeah," I mumbled and took a seat myself. I couldn't believe within one second he could come in and ruin the whole tone I had set for the night.
I waved my hand in the air, mostly for myself, and shook my head. "So," I prompted, waiting for him to pick up the talking stick. It felt safer for him to start the conversation, so it didn't lead to anything that would make him feel uncomfortable, like what he did today apparently.
He shrugged his shoulders and continued eating. "How about we just eat in silence?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Are you sure?"
He nodded. "I know that's probably hard for you, but, yes, I can use the silence. It doesn't always need to be filled with talking, you know?"
I cocked a brow and waited for an apology that never came. He was saying that my talking bothered him, wasn't he? He had never complained about it before. And it wasn't like I was talking more than usual this evening, so why the sudden shift?
We ate in silence, just as he wanted and I finished cleaning the dishes as he watched some sports game that was on. He asked if I minded and I lied and said no. Of course, I minded, though. I really thought we could spend some time together tonight. But it seemed that was the last thing he wanted.
"Screw the chocolate syrup," I whispered, putting the last dish in the dishwasher and slamming it shut.
"What was that?" Nate asked, coming to stand beside me.
I ran a hand through my hair and gave him a fake smile. "Nothing, I said nothing. I'm just going to head to bed." I made myself yawn, even though I wasn't tired in the least bit, more so confused and upset.
He gave me a mischievous grin. "Going to bed so soon?" His eyes dropped to my lips. "Come on, are you sure I can't convince you to stay up a bit longer?"
My gaze fell to his lips now, too, and I sighed. This was what I wanted, wasn't it? I wanted him to show interest and for us to get back to normal. And sleeping together was definitely normal for us.
I bit the bottom of my lip and leaned in closer. "I suppose I can stay up a bit longer." Then I let our lips touch and he kissed me with such passion. For a second there, I opened one of my eyes just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Although, we didn't necessarily lack passion, lately he hadn't been like this with me. Frankly, I was caught off guard.
I closed my eyes, though, and savored it, moaning my happiness. He groaned and placed his hand on my butt, cupping it, bringing me closer to him. I moaned again and straddled him.
With my legs wrapped around him, he began walking us to the bedroom, where he laid me down on the bed. As he took off his shirt, my mind wandered to a dangerous place. I wondered if this was how it'd be with Wyatt. I tossed my head back as Nate climbed onto the bed with me, pushing those thoughts from my mind. It was useless to go there. I was with Nate. Nate, who was kissing me with more intensity than I'd felt from him in a long time.
"Oh, Dee," he whispered in to my hair and my eyes widened.
Dee?
He had never called me Dee before.
But I didn't hate it.
* * *
This was it, I was supposed to be leaving tonight. Wyatt and I were driving straight through the night to Destin. It was no doubt going to be a long trip and an even longer weekend, but this was just what you did for family.
I only wished that things were better between Nate and I before I left. I was almost tempted to back out entirely and not go, or, better yet, insist he come with me, but I knew that wasn't what he wanted. He had made that perfectly clear already.
So the only things left for me to do were pack my bags and say goodbye before driving over to Wyatt's hotel.
I looked at my watch, glad that Laurel wasn't filming this week so she didn't need me and could let me bug out early. We'd gone through all of her fan mail today, which miraculously wasn't all that much, and had nothing else on the agenda. Nate should have been home, I figured, as I opened the door and walked in.
There was a delicious aroma in the air, one I didn't recognize. It smelled sweet, like vanilla. I sucked in and closed my eyes, enjoying the comforting smell. I didn't wear sweet perfume like that, but I happened to have it on good authority that we had a couple vanilla-scented candles around here. They had been otherwise archived since our days of romancing each other had come to a screeching halt as of late.
But this, I mused, this was exactly what I wanted. I wanted Nate to take initiative and do something romantic for me. I had been trying and failing to no end lately, but maybe this was his way of apologizing, of opening the door for us to move past the bullshit and get on with our relationship.
I couldn't help but smile as I quietly snuck over to our room. I didn't know exactly what he was up to or what he had planned, but I had some time before I had to leave and I'd sacrifice the time I should be spending packing for him. It was fine, I'd just throw everything but my dress in a suitcase and hope for the best.
No way was I going to let whatever Nate had planned for me go unacknowledged.
Full of excitement and feeling giddy again for the first time in a long time, I practically skipped the rest of the way.
I could see the door was closed, but I heard sounds coming from inside. Definitely Nate. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but assumed he might be on the phone.
As I got closer, though, it became apparent Nate wasn't alone in there. I heard a voice, distinctly female, followed by laughter. There was a woman in there with him.
What the hell?
I inched closer and placed my ear to the door. "Nate," I heard her call out in a fit of laughter.
This was definitely not good.
I laid my hand on the doorknob completely ready to burst in, but also unable to ignore the queasiness I felt in my stomach. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to barge in. Was I really prepared to see whatever was on the other side of this door?
I rested a hand on my stomach that was currently doing flip flops. I wasn't totally sure I wasn't going to be sick right outside our bedroom door. But the thought of being sick wasn't enough to stop me from feeling angry. So damn angry at what I was hearing. My hand shook on the knob, but it was like my other emotions weren't strong enough because my anger won out.
I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
"Coming in," I announced, one hand over my eyes.
Peering through my fingers, I could see I'd surprised them. Thankfully, they stopped whatever it was they were doing, so I dropped my hand. Yeah, I so didn't want to think about that!
Nate at least had the decency to roll off this woman, this stranger in my bed and look embarrassed. He stumbled out of bed and picked up his jeans from the floor. "Brandy, what are you doing home so early?"
Enraged, I pointed a finger in their direction. "How dare you ask me that? This is my home!" I turned to the redhead who five seconds ago was in bed with him. My bed. "And who, may I ask, are you?"
She looked stunned, which was putting it mildly. Clearly nervous, she stuttered and pulled the sheet up higher around her chest. "I think I should go," she said, ignoring my question and slinking out from the bed, taking my sheet with her.
I bent down and picked up her clothes, stuffing them in her hands. "Do yourself a favor and get out of my house. Now!"
"Hey, this is my place, too," Nate said, deciding that was his big moment to speak up.
I thrusted a finger in his direction again. "Don't!" I warned. "Don't you dare. How could you do this to me? To us?"
He stood up and started getting dressed. "Don't lecture me. Not when you're about to go off for a weekend with some other guy."
Appalled, I stepped back, so shocked it almost felt as if I was slapped. In fact, that might've hurt less. "For us, Nathan. For us. I'm not having an affair and I wasn't planning on it, either. This was for us. For you, actually."
Dressed now, he walked to the door. "I just think this is over, Brandy. We've had our fun, but it's over. It has been for some time. Couldn't you tell?"
"No. Call me stupid, but I could not tell, as you say. I love you, you moron. I didn't think this was over," I said, waving my hand back and forth in the space between us. "Maybe we were going through a rough patch, but we weren't over. At least not in my mind," I explained stupidly.
In a word, that was how I felt—stupid.
"When I get back, I want you out," I demanded, finding new resolve I didn't know I was capable of. "Do you understand me?" I asked when he didn't answer.
"Brandy," he said, arms extended, walking toward me, as if whatever he was going to say or do next would change my mind.
"Don't. Don't touch me. I have to pack. You need to leave. You can come back when I'm gone." I turned around and looked at my bed, thinking about all the times we shared together in that bed. Hell, even just last night we were together. He called me Dee and touched me with such passion, such desire. Then it dawned on me. "Wait!" I practically shouted. "What's her name, Nate?" I called out just as he reached the bedroom door and was about to leave.
He stopped and stared at me. "Why? What does it matter?"
"What's her name?" I repeated, louder this time.
He inhaled deeply, his hands thrusted in the pockets of his pants. "Deanna, why?"
I cringed. He called me her nickname. Looking around, I found the heaviest item within reach and tossed it at his head, a loud guttural scream coming from me. One I didn't know I was capable of making.
My mother's ceramic vase shattered on the floor in a thousand pieces, just like my heart. Luckily for him, the bastard ducked.
"Get out of my house. Now! I don't ever want to see you again," I shouted, near tears, but walked right toward him and all but pushed him out the door.
Once he was on the other side, I sunk down low, feeling drained. Emotionally drained. The tears streamed down my face so fast, I couldn't hold them back any more. All I could think about was how I loved this man who hurt me so badly. How could I give someone so much power over my heart that they'd be able to rip it out of my chest and crush it like that?
Betrayed, that was the only word for how I was feeling. He took advantage of me.
My mother was right. Nathan was nothing more than a user. He lived off of me and let me believe we were in love. At least now, I didn't have to keep lying to everyone. He and I were really broken up, but unlike where the plan was that we get back together after our fake breakup, there was no chance in hell we'd be getting back together. Not now. Not ever.