Mending the Blur (a Forever & Always novel) Read online

  “Dude,” Braydon cautions while gripping my hips. I have got to say, their constant battle of dominance is funny. I trust them both, unconditionally, but I’ve been with Braxton, I grew up with him; he is definitely not my forever partner… forever best friend — absofreakinlutely.

  “I meant as her boss like back when we worked at the local grocery store in high school, not like the spring fling junior year when we were on my bed,” Braxton laughs loudly as Braydon looks up to the ceiling taking a deep breath.

  “And now I’ll never forget that he’s been buried balls deep in you,” Braydon whispers before attempting to step back, but I grab his hands keeping him in place.

  “I’m sorry to inform you, soon to be Dr. Zach Braxton Adams, but you will not be over me in bed or at work. I took the obstetrics and pediatrics specialty. I’ll have my Master’s of Science in nursing with a specialty in clinical nurse management. I’m amazing, and you don’t want to work with kids or vaginas… well not vaginas outside of your bed,” I tease before laughing.

  “True fucking story,” Braxton laughs. “Now since you’ll be all graduated, you can take a vacation with us to Florida once we are released after finals.”

  “Why are we going to Florida?” I ask slightly confused.

  “To watch Brenton play in his first game!” Braydon responds excitedly. Looking up at him, I see the pride in his sky blue eyes. He may look exhausted, but he’s a proud dude. I’ve only been home long enough to sleep and shower for the past two weeks. I’m a shitty friend, I haven’t watched a single game this season. I catch up via my ESPN app, but he’s not played yet. I gotta say, Bub is not so awesome at being a benchwarmer, but he has to earn his spot.

  “I’m sorry, what? How? When do we leave?”

  “December nineteenth. So, you comin’?” he asks.

  “I don’t know? Am I?” I respond before Braxton laughs.

  “Y’all are like an old married couple… one that doesn’t want to have sex ‘cause it might ruin something. Crazy fuckers. Of course she’s coming. I already booked our flights and hotel.” Braxton smirks before starting to chuckle again and walking out of the kitchen.

  Laughing, I kiss Braydon’s cheek. “I mean, we kinda are fake married, and, hey, we even consummated that, so maybe he has a point.”

  “A valid point. But I have hope that you’d listen to your fake husband better. And how the hell does he know if we’ve had sex,” Braydon rumbles in frustration before kissing my forehead and smiling. “I’m officially considering scratching the no more sex thought… I mean, it would be hot as fuck.” Smacking my ass, he moves away to the fridge grabbing two bottles of Bud Light Lime and hands one to me.

  Braydon

  IT’S BEEN THREE AND a half months since I’ve seen my college roommates. I never imagined answering my phone that afternoon would lead me to such devastating news. I got the call the week of Thanksgiving break. My mom’s health had significantly declined and all her doctors agreed that hospice was the only and last step left in her care plan. Cancer, it’s the biggest cunt around. I drained a fifth of bourbon and passed out only to find a naked Keelie in my bed and a very pissed off and hurt Adalyn in my doorway several hours later. After kicking Keelie out— let’s be honest, I’m not certain I fucked her, but the look on Adalyn’s face was enough to make me wish I had just left Alabama and drove home to Missouri without drinking away my sadness first.

  That night is by far the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my life… and I’ve made plenty of mistakes. In a sober state, I would have never even contemplated messing around with Keelie. Yeah, of course I’d thought about it before, but not since Adalyn and I had become so close. The look in her eyes haunts me regularly, but more than that, the thought of losing my best friend has made the process of losing my mother, my first best friend, nearly unbearable. My father, Richard Gibson –the District Attorney and maker of my personal hell– stayed away from the moment I arrived home until yesterday when we finalized the funeral arrangements.

  Thankfully, Adalyn kept true to her word and refused to let go of our friendship, albeit now a bit tarnished and damaged, she’s answered my calls and texts comforting me from afar. She’s still in Alabama working at the UAB Hospital in the obstetrics department, and we still avoid all conversations concerning Keelie. And although I haven’t talked to Braxton or Brenton until this week and only a few messages at best, I know if nothing else, I have the three people I’ve been closest to for the past three plus years on their way.

  Ads – Hey, babe, we just made it to the airport and are headed to the hotel. We got a rental, so if you give us the address, we could come by…

  Me – I miss you, Ads.

  Ads – And I you, are you at your dad’s? We will check in then I’ll come by.

  Me – Prob a bad idea. I’m not in the best frame of mind.

  I think only Adalyn knows of my true coping mechanism over the past few weeks: Alcohol. It’s what’s for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even in my state, I know Adalyn Charleigh Miller well enough to know that she and possibly the guys are on their way over. My mom’s visitation is tomorrow and the funeral the next day. Heading into my en-suite bathroom, I take a shower and try to collect myself. After cleansing and standing under the spray until the water started to lose its heat, I towel off and stare blankly at my reflection. I’ve dropped nearly thirty pounds, and my eyes are black underneath with red rimmed lids. Whoever said men don’t cry clearly hasn’t lost their momma.

  “Braydon, you have company.” My father’s monotone voice echoes off the wall. Coming down the stairs, I see her legs first as her body slowly reveals itself to me. She’s still gorgeous, her black leggings hugging her every curve and the red collegiate top hangs off one of her shoulders.

  “Ads,” I whisper as I stand in front of her. Drawing my hand up to her face, I sweep the wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry.” In an instant, her arms are around my neck pulling me down to her.

  “Shhh. Don’t apologize. I forgave you a long while ago,” she argues in my ear as I squeeze her closer to my body. She feels like comfort. Peace.

  Cupping her face, I bring my lips to hers, slowly reacquainting my lips to hers. Her initial flinch worried me that she’d pull away; I’m sort of flying blind here, but having her this close to me I just can’t not show her my feelings. Texts and phone calls only go so far, and you can only say “I’m sorry” so many times. I have to show her. Her body goes languid against mine, her small hands grasp the crook of my arms at the elbow, and she deepens the kiss before pulling away slowly. “Let’s get you some food; you look awfully wimpy, big guy.” Pulling back, I return her smile as best as I can manage.

  “I’m not too hungry, but I think you’ll like Blanco’s. It was Mom’s favorite,” I offer up as we walk out to the rental SUV that she drove over. We spend the next two hours rehashing the past three and a half months that we hadn’t covered over the phone or by text.

  “I’M TRULY SORRY FOR your loss.” It’s a sentiment that I’ve heard hundreds of times, except the man in front of me looks eerily familiar to my father. Flanked to his side is Keelie Timmons. The girl that’s been trying to date me since she learned my last name.

  “Thank you,” I respond absently, my eyes moving from his face down to Keelie’s.

  “I’m sorry, excuse me,” Adalyn interrupts, resting her small hand on my chest. “Braydon,” once I turn my attention to her face she offers me a small smile, “let’s head back to the house. Braxton and Brenton have already headed out to the car.” Interlacing her fingers with mine, she waits for my response.

  “Yeah, I need a… I need a break.” What I wanted to say was I needed a drink. I needed to feel numb. Well, I needed to feel more desensitized than my current state. Excusing myself from my father’s look-a-like and the girl that last I saw rushing from my bed naked. Call me what you will, she wasn’t welcome there, and I let her know that as I told her to get out nearly four months ago. And fra
nkly, she isn’t welcome here either. I’ll never understand her.

  We pull into the driveway a few minutes later, and after a quick tour of the house for my friends, I excuse myself to change. Pulling the bottle of vodka from the back of my closet, I take three long pulls, focusing on the burn as it runs down my throat. Pouring a glass full before I stow the bottle away, I gulp it down while changing into jeans and a t-shirt. By the time I’m completely changed and my glass of poison is nearly finished, I make my way into the bathroom to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth. I choose vodka because it’s essentially scentless, but Adalyn knows my vice. She’ll be on me like a hawk, so if I can distract her long enough for my heart to stop feeling and my mind to stop racing, it’s a win.

  Joining my friends in the living room of my father’s house, I plop down in the open spot next to Adalyn on the sofa. Brenton is sitting to her right, and Braxton already made himself at home in the recliner. Clearing my throat, I ask, “Do you guys need anything? Food? Drinks? Between Mom’s friends, the church, and neighbors, I think there’s damn near a complete restaurant in the kitchen.”

  “We’re good.” Adalyn smiles over at me. “Relax, Bray.”

  Great idea, I think as I sink into the sofa, expelling a deep inhale. Well, I thought I could relax until my father walks through the door with Keelie following him. What in the actual fuck? I still haven’t figured out why she’s here. I didn’t invite her, and I sure as fuck haven’t talked to her.

  “Braydon, a word please,” my father demands. Too bad I’m not a teenager; too bad my mom isn’t here to tell me not to disrespect him.

  “These three are my family, Luke, I’m good.”

  “Braydon.” His voice is hard; ten years ago I’d be worried. Not anymore, especially not after his look-a-like comes into view. Wow, the two of them standing together is creepy.

  “Uh…” Brenton interrupts, his thoughts slipping past his lips, and his brow furrows at what I only assume my thoughts echo.

  “What?” I snap toward the man standing in front of me, District Attorney Luke Richard Gibson, the father who did so very little with the exception of providing money for us.

  “I wanted to privately introduce you to Chase Timmons, he’s your brother.” After a brief pause he continues, “Half-brother.”

  “What the fuck,” Adalyn whispers up at me as she slips her tiny hand into my large one just as she has many times over the past few days. This girl blows my mind. She may hate me for hurting her, but she’s always on my side. She knows my feelings on my father. She knows he’s why I chose to stay at college over Thanksgiving break; well, why I planned to stay but came home after sobering up. She believes my truths and knows I would never intentionally hurt her. Squeezing her hand, I slide mine away.

  “If you’ll excuse me. Adalyn, I’ll be back. Don’t leave without saying goodbye. Please.” I stand abruptly and walk outside, the cool air smacking me in the face, cooling the all over body burn. Clearly vodka is making me hear things. I have a half-brother, and Keelie, although adopted, is basically my sister.

  SLIPPING IN THE BACK door of my truck, I lie across the seat. Maybe I can catch a break and go unnoticed for a bit. Maybe I’ll fall asleep and wake up to this all being a jacked-up nightmare. Maybe not…

  “Bray.” The high-pitched voice I know all too well fills the cab of the truck. “Can we talk?”

  “No.”

  “Well, too bad, I need to talk to you.” The voice that once was whiny is now replaced with anger. She starts my truck, and I contemplate bitching about it or getting out, but honestly what’s the damn point anymore. I lie my head back down and try my best to block her out, only catching pieces of her sobbing banter.

  “I’m pregnant… this baby is yours… you have to make this work with me.”

  “Keelie, you aren’t trapping me into a falsified relationship,” I mutter. “I don’t even know that we had sex. For all I know, I couldn’t get it up for you. Why are you even after me; I’ve got nothing to offer you?”

  “Braydon Richard Gibson, you hold the key to making everything in my life finally fall into place,” she shouts. “Do you not get it? I need you right now! I can’t have this baby alone. I can’t risk losing everything the Timmons’s have given me to this point.”

  “You’re bat-shit crazy, pull over.”

  “Your dad walked out on my mom. You will not walk out on me and this baby.”

  “What the… wait? You knew about Chase and me the whole time?” My head is spinning, and I’m not certain if it’s from the alcohol I chugged before going downstairs earlier finally kicking in, or this psycho chick trying to irrationally right the wrong of a bastard husband. “How far along are you?”

  “Yes, I knew. And a few months, and you are this baby’s daddy. I won’t let you do to me what he did to her,” she screams, turning her body toward me just as I feel the truck accelerate, and my body is thrown into the backside of the front seats. All I can hear is Keelie’s screams. Pulling myself up, I take a look at what’s laid out in front of me. I look past the deployed airbags of my truck, to the car flipped on its side, the light ahead of us is red, and the intersecting traffic while minimal has come to a near stop. “Oh my God, oh my God, my baby!” Keelie screams.

  “FUCK!” Think, think, think! Think, Braydon, react later or maybe I should react now and think later. SHIT! Climbing out of the back seat, I open the driver’s side door and help Keelie out, making sure she is okay. Once she stops screaming, I make my way to the car on its side, and my heart plummets. The only woman in the car appears to be unconscious. Instinctively I scream for Keelie to stop standing there and call 911.

  I told the officer that I was driving, and that Keelie had no part in it. No child deserves to grow up without a mom. The woman in that car was barely responsive. But what still gets me… I may have irrationally claimed the fault, but she did nothing but agree with every word I said. What a nightmare. If I hadn’t thrown everything I wanted away by moving home, I think I just did at that moment.

  But leave it to my father’s reputation to be more important than his family, although I wasn’t the actual driver, he’s offered to pay for the accident and damage caused to the driver of the other car, Hannah James. The car Keelie struck on Valentine’s Day, altering not only my life but that of another innocent victim. She’s set to graduate this spring, and I pray to whoever is up there in the sky listening that Hannah James’s life is as normal as the moments before the accident. I finished up my course work requirements for my classes and received my degree in Sports Medicine via the mail, declining the option to walk the stage. The only person I truly wanted to be there was no longer living and the other, well, that relationship is still a bit rocky. Instead, I moved into a townhouse a few blocks from the university campus.

  Adalyn

  “HEY, GUYS, I’M GOING to go upstairs and wait for Braydon to get back.” I yawn after seeing Keelie drive off in Braydon’s truck. I saw him climb in the back seat shortly after he abruptly left. I should have followed him, or the guys should have, but we know how he operates. Braydon shuts down for a few hours then talks. I guess it’s his way of not losing his shit, or perhaps it’s his way of digesting the shit show that just occurred. Whatever it was, I feel sick and am freaking exhausted.

  “Ads, we can take you to the hotel if you want,” Brenton says quickly.

  “No, he asked me to stay. I’ll wait for him to come back. You guys head back if you want. I’m sure he’ll bring me by later.” After clearing my throat, I look up to both Luke and Chase towering over me. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  “And where do you think you’re going in my home?” Braydon’s father’s voice booms.

  “Upstairs, to Braydon’s room,” I retort again before squeezing between them in the doorway only to be met by their housekeeper, Zoila.

  “Come, sweetheart, I’ll see you there,” she says from my left. Her eyes are a stunning gray color and brownish-gray hair is a picture perfect bob, n
ot a hair out of place.

  “Thank you, Zoila.” I smile before walking side by side with her up the stairs. “How are you? It’s been too long.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you know better; you call me Zoi, just like my baby boy.” She smiles before opening Braydon’s room. It’s immaculate. Almost as if no one has been in here except to clean. “He’s left it spotless since he got home. He needs someone, someone other than me, I’m afraid.”

  “Zoi.” I smile sadly. “I’m sure you have been exceptional for him, but I also agree, he needs to talk to someone… someone that can help him properly grieve. Even I’m not what he needs, I’m afraid.”

  “Good luck, sweetheart, he won’t listen to anyone but his momma, and she’s gone now…” Her voice catches, causing me to glance over to her as the tears well in her eyes and rush down her face. Pulling her into a hug, I tightly hold her as she cries.

  “Zoi, it will get better. You are the glue to this family. Braydon told me so much about you and Margo Marie. I feel like between meeting y’all freshman year and his musings, I’ve known y’all forever,” I assure her when she pulls back.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. I better go get dinner started. Don’t forget I’ve got finger sandwiches and snacks downstairs… you look a lot thinner this visit.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I smile as Zoi walks out, closing the door behind her.

  OPENING MY EYES SLOWLY, I’m surrounded by darkness. I must have fallen asleep. I just flopped down on Braydon’s bed a few seconds ago. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I click the button to illuminate the screen, 7:49 p.m. Damn. The sun was just starting to set when I emptied the last bottle I’d found down the drain. Yes, I searched my best friend’s room. Top to bottom, all the drawers, the closet, the bathroom, everything. Five bottles between whiskey and vodka, a notebook, and an envelope later, I determined I was finished. A lone tear escaped as I dumped the last bottle free of its contents.