I never lose Brianna’s attention, but equally, she doesn’t say any more. She just places a glass of prosecco in front of me and then makes herself comfortable on the sofa opposite me with her own food.
To start with, the silence is blissful, but it doesn’t take long before it changes and the need to talk about what I’ve done becomes too much to ignore.
“You won’t tell them, will you?” I ask, my eyes begging hers.
“No,” she says instantly, making my whole body relax. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t think you should tell someone. How long has this been going on for?”
I shake my head, wishing there was a simple explanation for all of this.
“Th-there… there isn’t anything going on. This weekend was a one-off.” Lie. “It was a mistake.”
Her attention never wavers from me. It’s as if she’s hoping to read all the things I’m not saying in the depths of my eyes.
“Calli, I…” She lets out a loud sigh. “I’m not even going to pretend that I have any clue what’s going on here, but from what I’ve seen, I think you’re playing with fire.”
I can’t help but laugh at her words.
“You think?” I blurt. “Nico will—“
“Need to get over himself. His protective-big-brother shit is cute and all, but fuck, girl. I can’t imagine how insufferable that must be.”
I shrug. I guess it seems that way to someone who’s not in the middle of it. But it’s my life, Nico is my brother, and deep down I know he only wants the best for me. And it’s all I’ve ever known. He’s an overbearing prick that I got used to a long time ago.
“Unless you’re doing it on purpose,” she offers.
“What? No. He might be a royal pain in my arse, but I’d never do anything to actually hurt him. Not on pur…” My words trail off as I realise it’s a lie.
I’ve been seeing Ant for months. Sneaking in and out of his room at the warehouse. It may never have been a strike back at Nico, but I’ve never been under any illusion that he would be happy about it. Hell, I knew that Nico would kill Ant the second he found out, yet I’ve still been unable to stop.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were. Sometimes, guys like that need teaching a lesson. I’m just not sure doing so right under his feet—literally—is the best way forward.”
“Nico is Nico. None of us have any kind of chance at teaching him a lesson. He’s stubborn as a mule.”
“You got that fucking right,” she mutters, making me smile on the outside while my inside cringes hard, knowing that she’s been with him, having seen the push and pull they're currently in the middle of.
Silence stretches between us once more as we continue to eat. I want to enjoy it, stuff my face until all I can think about is how much of a pig I am and how full my belly is. But I can’t. Because while thoughts of him continue to float around my mind, my appetite is pretty much non-existent.
“I can’t believe you ended up with him. Especially when Alex has been following you around like a little sad puppy for weeks,” she finally says.
I glare at her, really wanting to not go there, but fearing she’s not going to give me any option now she knows the truth.
“It’s complicated.”
“Oh, trust me. I get it. Just one question though.”
“Fine,” I sigh, hoping she means that and isn’t going to ask a million the second I answer her.
“Why isn’t he here knocking your door down? You ran away, and I don’t get the impression any of those boys let anything slip through their fingers like that.”
Without instruction from my brain, I look over my shoulder at the external door we walked through, and then the sliding glass panels that look out over the sunken garden beyond.
My stomach knots with anxiety as to whether they’re all locked. It’s pointless. They always are. But still, the thought of him turning up here after what I did makes my stomach bottom out.
He’s going to kill me when he catches up with me.
A bolt of fear strikes through me, but it’s quickly followed by something else. Something I really shouldn’t be feeling. Excitement.
“Do you want him?”
“That’s a second question,” I point out, quirking a brow at her.
She rolls her eyes. “Sorry, I just—”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I confess sadly.
Her lips part to ask another question, I’m sure, but thankfully, she thinks better of it.
“I love those makeup bags over there. Have you been making them?” she asks, diverting the questions to my new hobby.
Pushing thoughts of boys that I shouldn’t think about let alone find myself anywhere near aside, I focus on the little bit of my life that actually makes me happy right now.