Page 46 of Dirty Like Brody
Magichad just happened. And it had me intears.
The guys didn’t judge. They just let me have my cry as they hugged me. Zane was first. “I said it once, I’ll say it twice and as many times as you need to hear it,” he told me. “It’s good to haveyouhome.”
Then my brother wrapped me in his arms. For a moment, he didn’t say a thing. Then he whispered, “Rememberthis.”
Then the guys went outside to smoke a joint. Maggie went with them without a word, just a small smile in my direction… leaving me alone in the aftermath of thatmagicvibe.
I climbed up onstage and stared up at the gorgeous stained glass window for a while as the candlelight and shadow danced across it, hearing that new song in my head. The way Zane sang it… so different than I would’ve sung it, and yet… like it’d been written just for hisvoice.
Maybeithad.
When I finally turned around, Brody was there. He was leaning on the wall near the back of the church,watchingme.
“Hey,” I said, startled. “How long have youbeenhere?”
“Sinceyouleft.”
I let go a small sigh as my shoulders dropped. And just like that, all the joy, all the hope, all the warmth and the love and the kinship I’d felt here in this incredible old building, embraced by a few of my old friends—myfamily—making music with them again, makingmagic… it all evaporated in aninstant.
Just like I’d always feared—no; like I’d always known itwould.
I was left standing onstage alone, as if I were on trial, staring across a very empty room at a man I’d once abandoned, with no idea how to brave the chasm that laybetweenus.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t wanted to talk to him after our blow-out in the bathroom, but he hadn’t exactly made it easy. By the time I’d gotten my drunk ass out of the bath he was gone, and Roni was waiting in my room instead, along with my Zeppelin shirt, rescued fromthedock.
I hadn’t seen Brodysince.
I’d thought a lot about what I might say when I did see him, though. It was pretty much all I’d thought about. I’d even tried to write down everything that was in my head and somehow organize it. Simplify it. Get to the heart of thematter.
I’d thought about all the times I’d done this before, all the letters I’d written to him over the years butneversent.
I’d thought about what might happen when I finally told him what happened all those years ago. But the fact was I didn’t know what would happen. That was the hardest part; theuncertainty.
I had no idea how he’dreact.
And this was thehardestpart.
Other than Brody, I’d only ever gotten involved with men I could predict. Men I felt like I could control. Brody I could never control, and that had always scared me. I still had no control over him, and I knew it. If he’d wanted me to, I would’ve come right there on that bathroom counter, in his arms; if he hadn’t stopped it, I would’ve given him whatever he asked of me. At least, whatever he’d asked ofmybody.
I wasn’t a screwed-up kid with a million reasons to say noanymore.
But he hadstoppedit.
Because clearly, Brody was never going to let himself get carried away over me—even in my underwear, with my legs spread, wrapped around him and readytogo.
You drove me fuckingcrazy.
Brody had fallen for me once, but it was in his stance now, in his body language, in the look on his face and the way he looked at me: he was never going to make that mistakeagain.
I half-expected him to turn and walk out of the church, but he just stood there leaning on the wall, staringatme.
“You left,” I said, carefully, “after the wedding. I didn’t see you atbrunch.”
“Amanda had to be back inthecity.”
“Oh.” I nodded, pretending like hell that the mention of his girlfriend didn’t turn my stomach. “Right.” I knelt down and got busy putting my new guitar away in its pink-linedcase.
Brody walked up the aisle toward me. He stood in front of the stage and looked up at me, hands in his pockets… looking so much like that boy I’d first met on the playground it made myheartthud.
