“Fuck off.”
“It’s me,” Brant said.
I went to the window and opened the blinds, then pushed up the glass. I saw it was creeping on dawn. Purple and orange tendrils streaked the sky. I’d lay there in my own misery and stewed all night. How pathetic was that?
And Kieran hadn’t come home.
It was the mother of all battles to keep my expression neutral as the realization washed over me.
“What’s up?”
“Can you let us in? Kieran lost his keys.”
I raised a brow. Part of me wanted to say fuck him. He could come home when he dug them out of whatever skank he’d left them in, but I didn’t get to be angry. He’d been honest with me.
“Why isn’t Kieran tap-tapping on my window?”
Brant looked as if he was ashamed for Kieran. “God, Claire. I didn’t even want to bring him home. I told him to crash on my couch, but he…” Brant just kept shaking his head.
“How drunk is he?”
“You’re not going to let him in?”
I sighed and pulled my robe more tightly around my waist. “I’ll be there in a second.” I closed the window.
Brant and Austin dragged him inside, and he stumbled. He wasn’t quite ready to pass out, but he was close.
“You mad, baby?” he slurred.
“You guys know where his room is.” I turned to go back to my own room.
“What’s going on?” Brant asked.
“I can’t.” I shrugged. “Just no.”
“I didn’t go,” Kieran mumbled. “I didn’t go.” Brant and Austin hauled him into his room and got him settled.
I wanted to go back to my room and stew some more, but that wasn’t going to help anything.
“Thanks for bringing him home.”
Austin looked back and forth between me and Brant and said, “Yeah, anytime. I’m just going to wait outside.”
Brant nodded and waited until the door closed behind him before he said anything. “What did you fight about?”
“I’m not doing this with you.”
“Why not?” He seemed so sincere.
“You said you’d call.” As if I had any right to be mad about anything.
“Oh, Claire. We both know that you and I are done. I knew that when we invited Kieran to join. Remember? I told you this was coming. I didn’t need to call you after to have you tell me that you and Kieran were together.”
“But we’re not. Not really.”
“I gathered. He was a fucking wreck tonight. He didn’t dance.”
“What did he do?”
Brant looked uncomfortable.
“Never mind.”
“I’m not going to carry tales because I don’t know what happened. April came to see him.”
If any more sharp things stabbed my heart, all I’d have left in my chest was applesauce. A ton of questions bloomed rancid on my tongue, but I didn’t say any of them. I wasn’t going to grill Brant and put him in the middle of it.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Did you get the pictures back yet from the shoot?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Hollie’s and Rosa’s are just what I wanted.”
“What about yours?”
“We shall never speak of them again.” I managed a weak smile.
“I’d like one. One of you and me?”
“I’ll just forward the email, if you promise not to put it on Facebook.”
“No, it’s just for me.”
I nodded. We stood there in awkward silence for almost a full minute.
“I should go.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“When I said I’d miss you, I meant it.” He kissed my cheek and his lips were warm, his scent safe.
“I know. I miss you, too.”
“You’ve got my number.”
“Yeah, see, if a guy says he’s going to call and doesn’t, that’s not usually a cue to me that I should text.”
“I was giving you time. I still am.”
“Time for what?”
“To be with Kieran without feeling guilty. Without worrying about hurting me or how you’re going to break it off. I took care of that.”
“How did you know I would? Why do you and Kieran both think you get to choose how I feel about anything?”
Brant sighed. “Do you think I would choose for you to be with him? I sure as shit didn’t choose that. But when I left, if I’d said, that was a good time, but if you want to be my girl, Kieran has to go back to his own room, what would have happened there?”
I bit my lip.
“I don’t want to be your second choice, Claire. I deserve better than that and so do you.”
He was wrong. I didn’t deserve better, but maybe he did.