Page 73 of Miss Behaved
I must have forgotten to lower the heat on my way out of town, because it’s a furnace in my apartment. Sun beats in through the wall of windows, and hot air blasts through the vents. Suddenly, the Arizona desert in the middle of the day doesn’t sound so bad.
I walk over to the entryway, spin the dial on the air, and kick it down ten degrees.
“No shit?” Brandon says, scratching his beard. “And here I thought maybe you were locked away with that hot brunette you disappeared with at the bar last week. Jacinda or whatever her name was.”
I shake my head and dig into the fridge for a couple beers.
My night with that brunette already feels like a different lifetime. Bailing on a one-night stand as I hightailed it out of town. In the span of a week, I’ve managed to step out of my life, spin it like a top, and step back in. Only to realize I might not fit anymore.
“Damn shame.” Brandon pops the cap off his beer and takes a drink. “She was a beaut.”
Brandon is the picture you’d find in the dictionary if you looked up “ladies man.” Charming and noncommittal. Never alone, and never in an actual relationship. But what most people don’t realize is that he’s also a good guy with a big fucking heart. He’s always there for his friends in a pinch, answering when you need him to. He is six feet of genuine dude.
My life has gone through the spin cycle a couple times over the past two years, and he’s been there for me before I even had to ask. As a friend, as a wingman. Sometimes just a listening ear.
“So, where were you?” Brandon asks.
“Arizona.”
“Fucking hot.”
I laugh. “So fucking hot.”
He gives me a cheers, and we each take a sip of beer.
“How was it?” Brandon rolls the bottom of the beer bottle in circles on the counter, watching the liquid swirl around. “All work, or did you get a little play?” He winks.
I take another drink. A longer one this time, holding the bottle on my lips like it will make the question go away.
“It was all right.” I shrug.
“Uh oh,” Brandon says with a grin. “What happened?” He shifts on his stool, and the legs creak from the weight of him. He was a professional football player before his knee ended his career, and he’s a big guy all around.
“It’s nothing,” I tell him, resting my elbows on the counter. “Probably just adjusting to being back at home.”
“Oh, fuck.” Brandon laughs and takes another drink. “I know that look. Who is she? It’s not that other chick from the bar, is it? That one in that tiny blue dress? Because, shit, she was hot.”
I shake my head. “No. But thanks for that, by the way. Your creative liberties when you named her in my phone got me in trouble.”
He shrugs, setting down his beer and narrowing his eyes at me. “Who is it then? Some chick from the conference?”
I wish he’d just let it go so I wouldn’t have to think about how, for the second time in my life, I’m being the biggest fucking idiot. But Brandon is chatty. He isn’t the kind of guy who shies away from talking about things. And the look he is shooting me from across the counter tells me he’s not leaving until I bring him up to speed.
“Fine,” I say, leaning back against the fridge and tucking my hands into my pockets. “I ran into someone I grew up with at the conference. Hadn’t seen her in, like, ten years, and now she’s got me all twisted.”
“Damn, she must be freaky.” Brandon winks.
“No,” I snap. “She’s not like that.”
“Sorry, man.” He waves his hands up as a show of surrender. “Didn’t mean anything by it. You’re just catching me by surprise here. I mean, this is coming from the guy with a three-fucks-max rule to prevent attachment. And right now, you seem hung the fuck up on this chick.”
“Yeah.” I drag my palm over my face. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. She doesn’t even live here; she’s back in Seattle. And that’s the last place I want to be. Too many damn memories.”
“And a lot of rain.”
“Right.” I nod, looking out my wall of windows to a city basking in sunshine. “Besides, we tried this once, and it didn’t work. I’m no good for someone like her. She’s—well, way out of my fucking league.”
“Don’t say that. Carson, man, you’re a good guy. Who was there for me when my knee gave out and I had to rearrange my entire career?” Brandon says.
