Chapter Thirty-One

Nina

The doorbell rings, and I sigh, knowing I specifically requested a contactless delivery from DoorDash. Since Claire and Maren cleaned up my depression disaster, I've been working really hard to keep the place just as clean, along with taking care of myself by eating better foods. But after today's visit with Jordy and Brayden, I knew nothing would make me feel better than something hot and greasy and completely horrible for my health.

Just this once.

I tell myself as I trudge to the door, not really keen on seeing anyone, even a delivery guy. But when I open the door, there's Brayden, holding my food bag with a sheepish look on his face.

I grab the bag and go to close the door before he can make a move. I'm not quick enough, though. His foot catches in the jam, and he swears as I continue trying to close it.

"Move," I say, pressing against it with more force.

"Nina, please hear me out." Both of us know that he could force his way in, that my strength is no match for his. But he doesn't push on the door, the only intrusion is his foot that I'm working to sever with my weak strength, and I guess this is why I finally give in, stepping back from the door and letting it open.

Lord help me, the man looks like something I could wrap myself around. His cheeks are flushed, as if he ran the whole way here. His baseball cap is on backwards, which is a whole look in itself. He looks like he hasn't shaved in a week, making me ache with need to run my hands over his stubble. His lips are so plush, ready for the taking. He's wearing that flannel jacket I've always loved, one that smells of hay and wind, even from my safe distance away. I want to bury my face in his chest and just breathe, breathe, breathe, and never exhale.

But he's not mine. He's hers—and I'm done playing this game where I'll be the only loser.

I scowl, turning away from him and entering the kitchen. I hear the door close gently behind me, and his footsteps follow me. I sit at that damn uncomfortable bistro table, and kick the other stool to the floor, leaving me on the only upright seat. It was supposed to be aggressive and angry, but his chuckle as he rights it has me fighting a smile as I dig into the bag for my burger. He sits, and I properly ignore him, not even worrying how I look as I sink my teeth into the ciabatta roll and half pound patty in between, barbecue sauce and cheese oozing out as I do. It's a fucking mess, and I'm delighted—both at the taste and knowing this might knock me completely out of the running in the battle for Brayden's heart.

He's said nothing so far, so after a few more bites, I finally clear my mouth with some soda and ask him why he's here.

"I don't know where to start," he says.

"How about the part where we have a magical weekend together, and you end it by riding off into the sunset with your fiancé?" I say, batting my eyelashes at him. Then I glare and go back to my burger.

"I suppose you'd see it like that since you haven't read any of my texts."

"My phone must be broken," I say dismissively. "It doesn't accept messages from assholes."

He chuckles again, which is both so aggravating, and also drives me crazy. Something about him being here makes me want to stop being mad at him, to curl up in his arms and let him take the pain away. But what good will that do? Once he leaves, I'll be right back where I started, nursing a broken heart while he goes home to fuck my cousin.

He fishes his phone out, and I shake my head.

"No," I say, "I don't want to read it. I can't do this anymore. We never should have done anything to begin with."

He continues, unlocking it.

"Are you even listening to me?" I push it away when he holds it out to me.

"Please just read it. If you still hate me afterwards, I'll go. I'll never contact you again. But please, just give me this one thing and read it."

"I owe you nothing," I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You don't," he agrees.

I stare at the phone. My hands are a mess, and I have half a mind to pick up his phone just so I can get barbecue sauce and grease all over it. But I have a smidge of decency left.

I get up and wash my hands, then sit back down and hold my hand out. He places the phone in my hands.

Brayden: I told her tonight. I didn't name you, but I let her know that I cheated on her. Then I told her it was over. And Nina, it's over. She wants to wait until after Claire and Ethan's wedding to say anything, and against my better judgment, I agreed. Only because I feel like I owe her this one last thing. But say the word, and I'll end it all. I'll do anything to be with you, to live every day like we did this weekend. Just to wake up to you is everything my soul has been crying out for. Just to taste your smile, to breathe in your breath, to hold your body against mine, skin to skin. I don't want us to end. But the look in your eyes when I left you this morning tells me that you think it's over. Is it, though? Have I fucked things up that badly? Will you find it in your heart to forgive me for not fighting right from the beginning? Because that first day I saw you was the day I fell in love with you. The first day I kissed you was the day I knew you'd forever be under my skin. And whether you take me back or not, I will be yours forever. There is no one else for me, Nina. There's only you.

My eyes sting, the tears threatening to fall as I read the last line of his text. I won't show him emotion, though. I should just hand the phone back now after reading the first text. But my eyes won't let me, and my finger disobeys as it scrolls down the phone, revealing the next text, then the next, and the next.

Brayden: You're killing me, Nina. I deserve this, I know. But I can't let you go, and in the slim chance that you're actually reading this, I'll continue to tell you every day. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Brayden: This morning I was thinking about the first time I woke up to you in my bed. You were still asleep, and I just watched you breathe. You have the most beautiful lips, and it was the hardest thing not to touch mine to yours just to remember what they felt like. But I refrained, and I'll always remember. I remember now, how soft you are to me, how you feel like home. How I could kiss you for hours, nothing more, and feel complete.

Brayden: Today, the guys and I took a tour out to the beach, and there was one family with a reluctant son who wanted nothing more than to stay in the cabin and play video games. None of the guys could get this kid to enjoy himself, not even Levi, who's usually a hit with the kids. All I kept thinking about was that day you helped out on a tour and got that one kid to put down his devices and have a good time. If you'd been on today's tour, there's no doubt in my mind that you could've gotten this kid to smile, maybe even have a great time.

I think about you every day. How you were on the ranch. How you were with my family. How much they love you. I think about what it would be like to have you here all the time, with my ring on your finger, and our futures combined. I think about that a lot, actually. Nina Winters. It kind of has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Or maybe you'd want to stay Nina Chance. I don't care either way. I just want you, any way I can have you.

Brayden: I should tell you that Jordy is living here on the ranch. Not in the house, and definitely not in my bed. My mom heard she was staying in a hotel, and even though I told her we weren't together, she still invited her to stay. You know my mom. I know what you're thinking, because I'm thinking it too. This is fucking stupid. Nina, this whole thing is fucking stupid. The fact that I'm here and you're there is fucking stupid. The fact that I haven't just driven to your house to tell you how I feel is fucking stupid. But you're not taking my calls. I don't blame you. I'd ignore me too. You placed a boundary, and as much as I want to plow through it, I'll respect it. But only because there's a time limit here. As soon as I'm free, I'll be on your doorstep, boundary or not, begging you to take me back. And Nina, I'm not sure I know how to take no for an answer. So…don't say no, okay?

Brayden: Do you ever think of me? I had this horrible thought today that you've completely forgotten all about us, and I can barely think of anything else but you.

Brayden: I'm sitting outside your house, and I'm so damn nervous, I can barely breathe. The guys pulled me aside today when I came home from seeing you. Told me to stop moping around like a bitch and get my girl. It's like they could see the heartbreak all over my body. Who am I fooling? I've been like this since the conference. But today, after being in that coffee shop and not able to tell you how I feel, I was torn up inside. The way she kept grabbing my hand in front of you… Nina, I saw your face. I saw the way it made you feel to see her with me. While I never want to hurt you again, it did give me a sliver of hope that you won't turn me away tonight, that maybe you miss me as much as I miss you .

And Nina? You're my girl. I'm so fucking crazy about you, I haven't been able to sleep. I've barely been able to eat. If we have to burn every bridge just to be together, I'm ready to light this whole damn world on fire.

So here I am, about to approach your door for the first time in forever, praying that you'll let me in.

Because I'm so in love with you, and I hope you love me too.

I can barely read the last text because my vision is too blurry. I swipe at my eyes, then look up at Brayden. He's watching me with tears in his eyes too. I push my soggy French fries at him.

"Here," I say. He looks down at the fries, then back at me, his brow furrowed.

"What is this for?"

"You said you've barely been able to eat," I say, and his face breaks into a grin. "I just thought I'd—hey!" I laugh as he catches me around the waist and swings me off the stool. I don't fight him. I was done fighting him before those texts. But now?

His mouth lands on mine and it's a full on claiming. Without words he tells me that we're never going through this again, that he's mine and I'm completely, head over heels his.

But the thing is, falling into bed with him is not going to undo all the things we need to talk about. I push against his chest, and he reluctantly releases me.

"There's too much to say right now," I tell him, and he wrinkles his brow but nods. "And I'm still mad, even if I get it."

I sit down, folding my hands in front of me. He does the same. I could speak. I could tell him all the ways he affected me these past few weeks. How much I missed him, and how much it hurt to see him this morning. But I need words from him; I need to hear in his own voice every way he's feeling, and what he plans to do now .

I need to know that I'm not going to get my hopes up only to play second fiddle. Because I'm done with this shit.

"First, Jordy and I are done. I broke up with her the night we came back."

"Yeah, about that. She's living with you?" I tilt my head at him.

"I know," he groans. "It's my mom. She'd take in every stray if she could, humans included. I told her this was like taking Jordy's side over her own son's, but she wouldn't listen. She said Jordy had been too important of a person to me to just toss in a hotel, especially now that Jordy was recovering from a breakup."

I feel a little guilty at this. Angie insisted on taking Jordy in like she was family. But I'm Jordy's actual family, and I'm the one who kicked her out.

"Your mom probably thinks I'm trash." I grimace, absolutely gutted by the thought. I really love Brayden's mom. Just as much as I miss Brayden, I miss working in the kitchen with Angie. She talked to me like we'd known each other for years, and it made me feel like I meant something to her. But now?

"No, Nina. She actually understands. I told her how Jordy swept in and got rid of all your grandmother's things, and my mom was shocked but not surprised. Jordy doesn't have a sentimental bone in her body. She doesn't place meaning on things the way most people do, which is great if you want to live a minimalist life. But it's not so great when you have family heirlooms. She sees the price tag, not the history that goes along with them." He takes my hand in his, running his thumb over my skin with reassurance. "Besides, she figures it's probably best under the circumstances that you and Jordy don't live together.

"Oh fuck, she knows?" I hide my face in my hands, unsure how I'm ever going to face his mom again. He takes my hands in his, laughing at me .

"Yes, she knows. My dad does too. They figured it out when the chairman called and repeated my bullshit story. While they're not thrilled about what I did to Jordy, my parents are happy to know it's you I've fallen for. They love you."

I laugh even as I narrow my eyes in disbelief. "Your dad said that?"

He cocks his head, as if to ask, are you serious? "I don't think my dad has ever expressed a positive emotion in his life, but I know he likes you. If he didn't, he wouldn't even pay attention to you. When he's gruff with you, that's when you know you're on his good side."

"So your parents are all keen on us being together, right?"

He squeezes my hand. "They're just sitting back and letting me figure out my own life. They want me to be happy, and I'm happy with you."

It's not exactly an answer, but there's hope in it. If his parents feel any reservations about us, I can't blame them. They've spent the last five years getting close to Jordy, imagining their son's future with her. Now we've gone and switched the narrative. A change like this wouldn't be easy on anyone.

"So, you're still going to the wedding as Jordy's date."

He winces, his expression clearly pained. "I can get out of it," he says. "It was stupid to even agree. I should—"

"No, I get it," I say, even though my insides are completely twisted at the thought of seeing them together even for just one more day. "If you knew our family…well, you do know them. Her mom is just—I mean, my mom is a complete bitch, but Aunt Lil puts so much pressure on Jordy to be perfect. If my aunt finds out you guys broke up..." I realize what I'm saying, that there's so much more at stake here. "If they find out I'm the one that broke you two up—"

"You didn't, though. I mean, yeah, meeting you sped things along. But you saved me from an expensive divorce, because that marriage was not going to last. It was never meant to be. So it wasn't you, it was my decision to end things."

"They'll never see it that way, though. I'm the whore of the family, the one who was handed everything, thanks to my grandmother, and still manages to ruin everything. They will only see this as another way spoiled Nina inserts herself into a situation and takes what she wants."

"And is that true?" Brayden asks.

I look at him, my eyes narrowing. "What the fuck?"

" I don't think it's true," he says. "But do you ?"

I shake my head. I've believed a lot of things about myself, but not this—at least not now. "I've asked myself so many times if I did anything to deserve what happened to me." I don't mention the rape by name, but the sympathy in his eyes lets me know he understands. "I know now that it was not my fault. But back then, it was more confusing. Especially when my mom turned on me, calling me a whore." I shake my head. "That's really where all of this started. She was embarrassed by me, her broken daughter. She's the one who suggested I move in with Nanna for a fresh start. But when she saw how much her mother cared for me…" I sigh out a breath, feeling shaky as tears spring to my eyes. I swipe them away. "Whatever it was, her treatment of me spread like wildfire. She claimed I was difficult, and it didn't take much for the family to believe that of me. So when Nanna Dot left me everything—" I pause, clenching my fists at my side. "Let's just say the groundwork was laid to completely write me out of the family." I look at Bray, nearly breaking at the way he's looking back at me with so much compassion, so much concern. "I guess I shouldn't care. They already think so little of me."

"It's okay to care," Brayden says. He takes my hands, unfolding them both before lacing his fingers with mine. "Of course you care. We'll do whatever makes you feel comfortable. I'll stand by you in everything."

"Well, first you'll go to the wedding with Jordy. I don't think I could handle unleashing the drama that day, either. I don't want to ruin Ethan and Claire's day, even though they already know."

This time it's his turn to balk. "They know? You told people about us?"

"Was I not supposed to?" It does seem like our little secret is becoming less of a secret every moment. How many people know already? The five guys, Brayden's parents, Maren, Claire, and probably Ethan. And soon…

"God, soon the whole world will know." My voice shakes a little, realizing the implications. Once my mom knows? What will she say?

"I want the whole world to know," he laughs. "I love that you've told people. I want you to tell everyone."

"Even Jordy?" I ask, a teasing glint in my eyes.

"At this point, I'd be fine if you told her too. She's going to find out anyways, because I'm not letting you go.

"Oh really? Don't I get some say in this?" I push against him teasingly, but he wraps his arms around me.

"You get all the say," he murmurs, his lips coming closer. "Anything you want, I'll do it for you."

"No," I say firmly, backing away while still safe in his embrace. "That was your last relationship. In this one, we're partners. We work together. Sometimes I'll be happier, sometimes you will. But hopefully—most times—we'll fall in the middle." I run my hands over his chest, my fingers grazing against his bare skin just above the button line. "But we can't tell Jordy yet. I agree, she'll know, and it's not going to be pretty." I bury my head in his chest. "Ugh, especially since I already hired her."

"I wanted to kick you under the table for that one," Brayden laughs. "What the fuck were you thinking? If you're looking for ways to make this more awkward and painful, you've done it. "

"I know." I look up in his eyes. "But it has to be done. Once this wedding is over, no more secrets. No more hiding who we are or what we want. We live the truest lives we can, and whoever sticks around can be our family."

He leans down and kisses me. Tenderly. As if we have all the time in the world—and for a moment, we do. For a moment, I forget the outside world and all the consequences and everyone who is bound to hate us by the end of next week. Right now, there's only us standing in my kitchen, wrapped in each other's arms.

And I want more.

I deepen my kiss, gripping his neck as if I'm going to fall through the earth without him to anchor me. In response, he sweeps me off my feet, lifting me into his arms as if I weigh nothing. I break our kiss, gasping in shock.

"I got you," he says, kissing me again. "But if I don't get you naked now, I'm going to go out of my mind."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

The words are barely out of my mouth before his mouth claims me again. His tongue brushes over mine in a way that leaves me lightheaded and needing more—so much more. We're moving, but I don't know where until he's laid me on the hard couch. Making quick work of my clothes, I lie naked before him, and he takes a moment to drink me in.

"You are so damn beautiful," he breathes, his eyes running over my body. Just his gaze alone feels like his hands are already on me. I arch my back, closing my eyes as I feel heat bloom in my core. He groans in response, and then his mouth clamps down on me. It's so sudden, I cry out, then moan as his tongue finds my most sensitive parts. He stops suddenly., and I open my eyes, looking at him like what the hell .

"This couch is hella uncomfortable," he says, a grimace of apology on his face.

"Right?" I grin, feeling vindicated even if I also feel like there's been a disturbance in the force. "My room is a pit, but it's a hell of a lot more comfortable than this seat coffin."

He needs no further prompting. He gets up, looks at me and grins. His clothes are off before I can even stand, and I have half a mind to find out what he tastes like. But when I stand, he smacks my ass.

"Get upstairs," he growls. I don't need to be told twice. I lead the way up the stairs, only a little self-conscious that he has a full view of my jiggling ass on the journey there. I open the door, relieved that I actually cleaned my room this week, save for a few outfits that didn't quite make it in the hamper. I retrieve them quickly and stuff them in with the rest of the dirty clothes, and start to look around for anything else that needs to be hidden. But he catches me off guard, spinning me around so that I land on the bed. It's so smooth, the way he has me on my back, my legs propped up with him kneeling before me.

"I'm not turned off by your mess," he says. "Nothing about you turns me off. I want all of you, even the things you think are imperfect. To me, every part of you is perfect, from your beautiful mind, your caring heart, and your perfect," he leans down and kisses my waiting pussy, "delicious," he kisses it again, followed by a swipe of his tongue—and a squeal from me—"hot as fuck body." This time he stays, clamping down while I squirm beneath him—rather, squirm as best as I can. He has a firm grip on my hips, and he anchors me in place while his tongue bathes me, alternating between hardened strokes and silky-soft glides. The guessing leaves me lightheaded, and soon I feel myself open, the ember inside me igniting into a flame, then a firestorm, then a blazing inferno as I let myself go under his touch. He plucks my erect bud between his lips, sucking lightly in a way that has me screaming his name, the waves rolling over me like the waves on our beach in Texas. I ride the current, and he lets up only when I can't handle anymore. He stands, licking my moisture from his lips before crawling over the top of me and kissing my mouth. I taste myself on him, and it's so utterly erotic.

For years, I've hated my body, been embarrassed by every part of it. My smell. My shape. Anything that made me feel vulnerable and unattractive. But tasting myself on him … It's like I can see myself through his eyes. I like the way he smells when he smells like me. I like tasting him when he tastes like me. I feel beautiful when he looks at me, and I want to be seen by him.

I lean over to my side table and retrieve a condom from the nightstand and hand it to him. He rises from the bed, and I watch as he slips it on, noting the ripple in his solid abs, the peaks of his broad chest. I take in the length of him, marveling at how I can look at his cock and think it's as beautiful as any art piece in a gallery.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, kissing my lips as he straddles me. He doesn't rush to enter me, which is both sweet and aggravating. I want him in me. I want him to fuck me hard. But I also don't want it to ever end. And this—the pillow talk, the way he's just enjoying my company without needing to be inside me—it means more to me than he knows.

"I was just thinking how I will never grow tired of this," I murmur, running a finger along his cheek. "Of you. I've never had someone treat me this way, or love…" I pause on the word.

"Love you like this," he finishes. He places a hand over mine on his cheek. "I love you, Nina."

"I love you, Brayden."

He kisses me again, his lips soft on mine, his hand gently resting at my throat, his body pressed against me as his cock nudges at my entrance. Then he pushes in slowly—so slowly—as if he, too, wants to make this last forever. I weave my hands into his hair, tasting him with lingering kisses, and he whispers sweet words in between.

"You feel so damn good."

"I want to drink you in."

"I can't get enough of you."

"Look at me."

At those last words, I do, my eyes finding the blue of his. I feel the last puzzle piece click into place, the distance between our souls diminishing as our bond locks together. We keep eye contact the whole time he moves inside me, as I arch into him, as he cups my face, as I grip his ass. The intensity of it all washes over me, running straight through me, and I come for the second time this hour, all while he continues to insist I look at him. Only after I'm completely sated does he allow himself to finish, exploding inside me as I lock my lips with his.