Series: Peach State Stepbros Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
That’s the thing about Brenner—the way he’s so careful with me. Knows not to push too hard.
“I hope you don’t think it’s anything you did, but when you talk about your parents, it reminds me of the Piece of Shit. Here you are, wishing you had more time with your mom, and I wish I could have so many years back from him.”
I quiet again, and Brenner runs his knuckles down my cheek. “I remember when you told me about him. That night after we’d been drinking at that party senior year. But I knew about it before then. Not the specifics, but I would watch you when you brought up your dad or when I was talking about mine. There was something there, something off.”
The memory stirs a warm sensation in my chest. The night I finally spoke to someone, in a way I couldn’t even speak to my mom about that bastard.
“But you never pushed me to share,” I say. “You just let me get it out in my own time.”
I keep waiting for Brenner to say something, crack a joke or diss the Piece of Shit, but he’s silent. Listening. It’s a side of Bren not many get to see. Like it’s just for me, which makes it that much more special.
“I still remember the night that changed everything,” I say. “At the kitchen table, when he was getting onto Mom about how he would have rather had lasagna than stroganoff, and he wouldn’t let up, which really was just another night in our house. I could see how uncomfortable it was making her. And it’d only been six months since we lost Aria. She finally got up because she couldn’t take it anymore, and like he was punishing her for daring to get away from his bullshit, he comes out with those fucking words: ‘if you can’t handle that, I don’t know how you thought you could handle having another kid.’ Just so vindictive, so nasty, so impossible for me to understand why he would utter them when she was still in so much pain.”
Bren’s nostrils flare, his jaw tensing. He might be one of the few people who could hate the Piece of Shit as much as me or Mom.
“But you stood up to him,” Brenner says, since this isn’t the first time he’s heard this.
And it feels good knowing he remembers the details. Not that it surprises me.
My eyes water. “As much as a ten-year-old can. Bottled it up for so long, and I guess all that pressure had to be released. All I did was tell him he was being mean and hurting her, and he didn’t look so high and mighty then. I could see he was ashamed I’d called him out. Like he knew I fucking saw him for the monster he really was. Because that may have been the worst thing he said, but there were so many cruel comments, so many jabs wearing on Mom. For long enough, even before Aria, that I forgot how bright Mom could shine.”
“But you see it now.”
“Yeah, I do. And it wasn’t easy. A lot of therapy and support from friends, steadily rebuilding her life.”
“She’s earned every bit of happiness she has.”
“That’s for sure.” I shake my head, fighting my teary eyes. “Anyway, just sounds so nice hearing you talk about your parents. And seeing how kind and compassionate your dad is with you and your feelings because the only kind of dad I know made my mom feel like shit about my sister’s death, and then when she couldn’t take it anymore, dragged her through court just so he could spend his half of custody ignoring me and resenting me for choosing her.”
Brenner rests his hand against my cheek, stroking softly, like he knows I need his touch right now.
“I hope you know, Bren, that just like I know your feelings with your mom don’t make you want my mom or your dad to be miserable, I’d never want you or him to be miserable because of my experience with the Piece of Shit. Even if sometimes a part of me feels a bit sad seeing how amazing your dad is.”
A tear finally breaks free, and Brenner wipes at it with his thumb. “I know.”
“Of course you do. I just wanted to tell you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Me too,” I say, leaning into his palm as I gaze into his beautiful dark-brown eyes, appreciating the warmth of his touch. As much fun as we can have fucking around, I love moments like these just as much.
When it’s just the two of us.
The real us.
The us that isn’t just wanting to get each other off or watch each other get off.
Or all jokes and laughs, like we don’t have a care in the world.
The us we only show each other.