November Twenty-Eighth

Five

The stars call to you and him.

They make shapes in the sky,

spelling out how lucky you can be.

—

It was dusk when Bren popped the top off a beer and slid his gaze over to me. "Want me to make you a drink?"

Beau brought a whole slew of alcohol with him. You'd think we were hosting a rager and not just having drinks on the beach with a few friends. But I looked back at Bren and shook my head. "I don't know if I should drink, to be honest."

Bren's bottle of craft beer was halfway to his lips when he paused and lowered it again. Nessa and Beau were already outside, making a fire on the beach. I could hear them bickering about the right way to do it from here.

"It's just...I've had a few days without headaches, and I'd kinda like to keep it that way." I shrugged.

Bren set his bottle on the kitchen countertop. "Okay. I don't have to drink either, then."

"No, no." Bren had sacrificed enough for me. He deserved to let loose and hang out with his friends—just like he'd probably be doing on a Friday night in Oakland. He said he didn't miss that stuff, but I'm sure there was a part of him that did. "Go ahead, have some drinks. It's fine, Bren."

The look he gave me was skeptical.

"I'm gonna be pissed if you don't drink that beer, Bren Hadaway."

Bren raised a brow, his smile curving wider as he brought the drink back to his mouth. He took a slow sip. Dark brown eyes watched me over the curve of the glass as he tipped his head back and wrapped his lips around the bottle. The beer slid into his throat, and he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. Then Bren lowered the bottle a bit, lips sliding off the rim again. His eyelids fluttered; they were nearly half-closed. "You know," he said huskily, "It's kinda hot when you scold me like that."

Oh, god. If Bren was going to do shit like that all night, I wouldn't make it. Even watching him take a drink of his beer was turning me on. Especially after yesterday when he'd accomplished amazing things with that mouth—things I'd never felt before him.

"If you guys need to take a few minutes to go back upstairs and get something out of your system, I mean, we can wait." Beau slid through the door and into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of beer for himself off the counter. He eyed us both.

Bren snorted. He clapped a hand on Beau's shoulder and leaned toward him to mutter, "Few minutes wouldn't do it, man." And then he strode outside into the night.

Beau's eyes widened comically as his head jerked in the direction that Bren had disappeared and then back to me. Then he did it again and then again, and I worried he was going to get dizzy.

Finally, Beau pinned me with his bewildered look and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Who's that guy and what did he do with Bren?" Then Beau flashed a sly grin. "Or what did you do with Bren?"

"What do you mean?" I laughed despite the aftershocks rolling through my body from Bren's words.

"Dude's confidence is like off the charts. I mean, damn."

I just smiled and went to get a soda from the fridge. I wasn't sure what to say. I think that side of Bren had always been there, he'd just been holding it back. Or someone needed to expose it. Something.

Beau was still shaking his head in disbelief when I walked over to him. His classic aviators were propped up, flattening his already stick-straight black hair to his head. He wore matching Adidas sweats, looking ready to model for an athleisure photoshoot. Not much had changed. "Hey, Beau?"

"What up, girl?"

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For this." I gestured to the house around us. "And him." I pointed to Bren, who I could see settling into a chair on the patio, the fire blazing behind him and Nessa, illuminating their figures in front of the purple-ish sky.

Beau shrugged. Then he glanced up and froze at seeing my face. His expression softened. "Don't do this to me right now. You're gonna make me cry before I've even had one drink."

I nudged him with my elbow. "You're a big softie, aren't you?"

"Hell ya, I am. Ain't nothing wrong with it, either." He sighed, taking a drink of his beer. "It's nothing, Madie," he said, leveling with me. "No one should have to go through the shit you've gone through. It's the least I could do to find you a place to escape from it all." Beau peeked over his shoulder. "As for him, well, you should know something. I didn't go get him from Fresno just for your sake. It was also for his."

I cocked my head to the side, listening.

"Caroline called me from his phone, you know," Beau said. "Because Bren was a fucking mess out there, and she had no idea what happened. He was chain-smoking like he wanted an early death and not talking and barely eating."

Even though I'd always be a bit hurt by how Bren left me in the hospital, it hurt me even more to hear this. I wanted to go back in time and give him a hug and tell him to stop putting everything on his shoulders.

"You're a good friend, Beau," I said finally.

Beau leaned against the edge of the counter, getting comfortable. "I had a lot of friends in high school, but now that I've left town, I've realized how fake they all were. You guys are different. Suddenly friendship isn't some dumbass competition." He shrugged. "You're my people now. And you don't let down your people."

He gave his head a little shake and blinked a few times. "Ah, shit. Now you've done it. Let's go outside before I actually cry."

I laughed, not really knowing if he was faking it for dramatic effect or if he was serious. But I knew his words were sincere. I followed him out onto the patio. The fire had been successfully lit in the sand, crackling a few feet out from the house. It competed with the sound of the ocean.

Bren and Nessa were laughing about something when we stepped outside, and I didn't get that annoying gnawing feeling like I used to when I'd see them working together at The Grounds. Instead, I grinned and weaved my way through the empty chairs to sit down on Bren's lap.

He slipped an arm around me, pulling me closer while he finished whatever he'd been saying to Nessa. I wasn't really listening to their conversation. I think it was about some indie artist they both liked who'd just released a new album. Nessa had been listening to Bren, but as I sat down, her attention drifted to me. She cocked both brows, eyes wide at how I was curling into Bren like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because it was. I just smiled and shrugged. I could see all of the questions floating around in Nessa's mind. Oh, if only she knew everything that had happened.

As Beau plopped down at the table, the conversation turned to things that had been going on at Oakland State—how the football team lost their last game, and Beau and Nessa secretly drank to that loss while everyone else mourned. We talked about shitty professors and the new Avengers movie and regular college shit.

The moon eventually popped out, riding low in the bejeweled sky. Beau set up Bluetooth speakers, a perfectly curated playlist on repeat. We ordered pizza, and it felt reminiscent of the first night that Bren and I were here. A sense of freedom and release hovered in the air. Empty bottles filled the table, and laughter juggled about.

Bren's drunkenness was easy to measure against his level of PDA. After three hours on the patio, he'd fallen into the habit of finding different ways to kiss me. He'd drop his lips onto one of my shoulders or move my hair aside to nip at my neck. My bony butt started to get a little sore, so I pulled up a chair next to him for a while. But then Bren spent most of that time looking at me longingly, and I took pity on him, moving back to his lap.

At a certain point, Nessa couldn't contain herself anymore.

"Okay, I'm starting to think we should have just let Bren finish what he'd started upstairs earlier." She laughed, tossing her long, raven hair over her shoulder.

Beau reached over and pushed her mustard-colored beanie down over her eyes. "Just don't look. Leave the guy alone," Beau said, his words slurring a bit. "He's drunk. And he's been in love with Madie from the minute he fucking saw her." Beau tipped back in his chair, looking at the stars and waving a hand in our direction. "Let him have his moment. Or moments. Whatever."

Bren didn't say anything in reply. But he made a little humming noise in the back of his throat and tightened his grip on me. Lips made their way up the curve of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

It must have been nearly midnight when we moved to sit by the fire. The four of us fell into the sand and let the world slip away, into the ocean. The air was chilled, but the flames were warm. Or maybe I was warm from Bren's arms around me, and the fire was just a dancing mirage.

We were stargazing when I fell asleep. I woke up to Beau throwing water on the fire, the sizzle of it alerting me.

"Come on, baby," Bren muttered. "Let's go to bed."

The four of us ambled into the house, bringing along the scent of smoke and ash. Bren clung to me, refusing to let go, his drunkenness evident and cute as he trailed along like we were attached. His hands found my hips, playing with the waistband of my pants.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower," I said. "I don't want to make the bed smell like a campfire."

"Mmm," he breathed, hot and heavy in my ear. "I want to come." He groaned and tugged me back into him. "Can I have you in the shower?"

"I heard that, you horny fucker," Beau called, following up the stairs behind us. "Something tells me we're gonna need to get some bleach for my parents' bathroom," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone.

I giggled, and Bren and I tumbled into our room, shutting the door on a grumbling Beau.

Bren instantly gripped my face and kissed me, capturing my mouth in a sloppy, but drugging kiss. And as much as I wanted it, and I wanted him, I pulled away. "I want you, Bren. But I don't think we should. I feel weird with Beau and Nessa in the rooms next door."

He groaned but released me and flopped onto the couch. "Yeah, okay."

Bren didn't say much else. His head rolled to the side, and he seemed to nod off a bit on the sofa. I watched him for a few moments before I stripped off my smokey clothes and threw them on the floor. As the water washed over me in the shower, I began to worry. Was Bren sleeping? Or was he annoyed and ignoring me now?

Eager to find out, I quickly rinsed the soap from my body, shut the water off, and wrapped myself in a towel. Bren was slow to sit up as I left the bathroom.

"Done?"

I nodded.

"Okay." He stood, wobbled a bit, and scratched his head. "I'm gonna shower now."

"You are?" I asked.

"Well, you don't want the bed to smell like smoke." His confusion was adorable as he looked between me and the mattress. But his downcast eyes concerned me.

"Oh, well... you didn't have to wait. You could have still showered with me if you wanted."

Bren laughed, throaty and harsh. "Shower with you and not touch you? Yeah right, Madie."

He brushed past me, heading into the bathroom. I caught him by the arm. "Are you mad?"

His brows furrowed. "Mad? Why the hell would I be mad?"

"Because of what I said when..."

"Are you asking if I'm mad that you don't want to have sex while our friends are here?"

I nodded again.

"Of course I'm not fucking mad." He shook his head and smiled, giving me a rough kiss on the forehead that sent me reeling backward a bit. "Jesus, Madie. I'll come to bed in a few minutes. Lie down, baby."

He turned around, and I bit my lip as a thought came to me. "They probably think we're doing it anyway."

Bren glanced back at me. "I mean, yeah. I'm sure they do. That's kinda what I was thinking, but I wasn't going to say anything."

"Why didn't you?" I was annoyed at how breathy my voice sounded.

An overly incredulous look spread across his drunken features. "I'm not about to try to convince you to have sex with me if you're not comfortable. Beau's right—I'm a horny fucker. But I—" He fell against the door frame, teetering on the edge of it. "It's not a big deal."

I stared at him, eyes wide. The muscle in his jaw was tightening, twitching. His eyes were looking anywhere but me.

"Now, I'm gonna go shower because I can't fucking deal with you in that towel anymore," he grunted, and I laughed, suddenly understanding. His expression softened just as he was about to turn around. "But I'm not mad, okay?" He tossed a lazy smile my way, and I knew he was telling the truth.

How did I get so lucky to find a guy like Bren? I didn't even know...I didn't know this was how guys could be—especially drunk guys.

I got so lost in my musings, that I barely noticed when Bren slipped away into the shower. The water began to splash against the tile. Coming to a hasty decision, I dropped my towel and went after him.

Bren's head was tilted toward the shower head when I slid inside. Water streamed over him, spilling from his dark hair and down over the ripples of his back. He must have heard me because he spun around. Bren stared, eyes flaring, more alert than they'd been in hours.

"Madeline," he breathed. It was a warning. He liked to give those. As if I didn't know exactly what I was doing. "I mean it. I'm not mad. We don't—"

"Hush." I stared back. His erection was straining toward me. Reaching out, I wrapped my hand around him and then slipped it down his length. Bren sucked in a breath and lifted his hands above his head, pulling on his sopping wet hair. Water continued to pour over him, weaving through his abs, trickling over my fingers as I gripped him. When I stroked back upward, I tugged just a bit.

"Come here, Bren."

And then, amidst the steamed glass and the cold tiles and the blazing waters and the even hotter, heavier breaths, I let Bren have me in the shower. I let us have each other. And I didn't even bother with staying quiet.

Because I didn't have anything to hide.

Not anymore.
—
November Twenty-Ninth

Five

It was a good night with him and the stars.

🖤
It was a happy chapter for once! Hope you enjoyed.
I actually wrote the rest of the shower scene in full, but decided to take it out for a few reasons. Maybe I'll put it as like a deleted scene at the end.
xoxo