"I've always believed that guy would be me, but I saw he was texting you and freaked out."
"Guys aren't allowed to text me now."
He swallows hard and bites his lip. "Trish told me that you and Arrow had a thing. She said I was stupid if I couldn't see it and that you'd leave me in a second for him."
This is the part where I'm supposed to say, "And you believed her?" But I don't. The question is as good as a lie. So I choose a different one. "Why didn't you talk to me about it instead of unzipping your pants?"
"Because sometimes I'm a coward." He bites his lip and grimaces before meeting my gaze. "And it was easier to look at your phone."
He said something about texts this morning, but I was too distracted by what Nic told me about Mom to fully register anything. "I still don't know what texts you're talking about."
"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have looked." He draws in a long breath. "I knew you were friends, but seeing it like that just seemed to confirm everything she'd said. And I already know how much he makes you smile."
"Brogan-"
"I warm the bench while I watch my friends compete in a sport I've dedicated my life to. I only get to go in when they need someone to block for Arrow or to do kick returns. Playing second string means there's someone better. I didn't want to be second string to you. And I panicked because I thought I was. What I didn't realize was being your second string trumps not being your anything. Every day of the week."
"I never thought of you as my second string," I say, and suddenly I don't care what he's done or who betrayed whom. I want to curl into his strong arms and let him hold me. I want to listen to him talk to me about the future and let his dreams be mine. Brogan isn't Arrow, and that's a good thing. Arrow and I can't be. Not after what I learned from my brother. Not even before. But Brogan? He's a good guy. Sometimes his insecurities motivate him to make terrible decisions, but I could say the same of half the people I know.
"I'm so sorry. Let me prove myself to you, Mia. I know you don't owe it to me, but I'm asking anyway."
"I can't promise we can come back from this, Brogan." But I want to try, I realize. Maybe I'm scared to be alone. Maybe I can't stand to see him hurting this much. Or maybe I'm selfish and need a buffer between me and Arrow.
"We'll take it slow. Tonight, let me feed you. This weekend, maybe you'll let me take you out. We'll start over and you can decide . . ." He draws in a ragged breath. "You can decide if I'm worth the kind of forgiveness it'll take to get us through this."
"And what happens the next time you feel insecure, Brogan? What happens when I laugh at another guy's jokes or don't at yours?"
"I remind myself that I'd rather play the bench than not at all. Because it's true, Mia."
"That breaks my heart," I whisper.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you to see yourself as playing the bench with the girl you end up with. I want you to believe you're the star. You're worth that."
His mouth opens and then closes, as if he can't figure out what to say. And then he leans forward and presses his lips to mine.
For a fleeting, ridiculous moment, I wonder if he can taste Arrow there. If he can feel the memory of another man on my lips. But then I let go of that ridiculous thought and part my lips for his kiss, welcoming its warmth.
Tonight I'm lonely, chased into the empty corners of my mind by the ghost of my mother and her decisions. Brogan chases the ghost away, and the loneliness fades. And for that, for now, I'm grateful.
He breaks the kiss, breathing hard, and leans his forehead against mine. "I'm going to take that as a yes."
"Take it as a maybe." I squeeze my eyes shut. You love this man. This is good. But part of me screeches a warning in the back of my mind that I'm being selfish, that I'm using Brogan to put distance between Arrow and me in the only way I know how.
I shake my head, pushing the thought away. This isn't about Arrow.
"I don't know where this is going," I say, and the words soothe my conscience a bit. "I don't know if what we have can be salvaged."
He cups my face in one big hand and gives me a sad smile. "I do, Mia. In this, at least, I have enough confidence for us both. We're good together."
"Well hello, romantic evening!"
Brogan and I turn to see Bailey standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her hands on her hips. I saw her this morning after I kicked Arrow out and told her everything. I was grateful to have someone I could tell the truth, and I'm grateful to see her now.
"Fucking A, Brogan," she says, "you planning to win her back through sugar alone?"
Brogan blushes and shrugs. "If that's what it takes."
Bailey saunters to the table, grabs a cookie off a plate, and takes a big bite. "Sweet, delicious, sinful carbs, Batman. God, you want to date me? Because keep this shit coming and I will spread my legs, honey."
"Bailey!" I laugh, then so do Brogan and Bailey, and then we're all laughing and it feels damn good. Until the humor leaves Brogan's face completely and his jaw goes hard.
I follow his gaze to see Arrow standing in the doorway, a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand.
I watch as Arrow takes everything in. The candles, the food, Brogan by my side, and then finally the betrayal marring Brogan's beautiful face.
"Who are the flowers for?" Brogan asks. His voice is hard, and all the softness from his earlier expression is gone.
Bailey gapes, taking two seconds to look at me then Arrow. "Me," she says, walking toward him and snatching them from his hand.
Arrow plasters on a smile as Bailey wraps her arms behind his neck.
"Thanks, sexy," she says, rising onto her toes.
And even though I know she's trying to help me, even though I know there's no future for me and Arrow, something inside me breaks at the sight of her lips against his.
"You ready to go?" he asks when he pulls back, and the sexy raspiness of his voice and the way he smolders at her-yes, smolders-is so believable that I, for a ridiculous, panicked second, really don't know for sure that he didn't come for Bailey.
Brogan clears his throat and shifts. "Does Mason know about you two?"
"Why?" Bailey asks. "You think Mason owns me or something?"
"Um . . ." Brogan looks to me, and I shrug. I don't claim to keep up with Bailey's revolving door of boy-toys, but I didn't think she'd slept with anyone else since she started messing around with Mason.
"Mason and I are history," she says.
"Bailey?" I say, and she gives me a hard look. If she and Mason broke up, it's because of Nic, but this isn't the time or the place to talk about it. Not that she'd want to hear what I have to say about her pushing Mason aside for my brother.
"You two coming?" Bailey asks. She looks at Arrow. "You're treating us to sushi, at the place uptown, right?"
He looks to me and Brogan and our joined hands. All of his smolder-pretend or otherwise-fades, but he plays along. "But these two probably want to be alone."
"What do you say?" Brogan asks. "Sushi sound okay to you?" He leans forward, his lips skimming the shell of my ear. "Or would you rather stay in?" he asks, so only I can hear.
Stay here with Brogan? Maybe hang out in my bed where Arrow touched me so intimately just hours ago? Even if I wanted to, my heart couldn't take it.
Well, dinner was fun. Watching Brogan throw himself all over Mia between dirty glances in my direction. Watching Mia's defenses melt bit by bit until he had her laughing by the end of the meal. Yep. Barrels of fun. A close second to having my junk punched repeatedly. Very, very close.
I get back to the dorm before Brogan and settle into the couch in the common area with my physiology textbook and a beer. I've got a test in A&P Tuesday, and if I don't get my head together and study, I'm going to bomb. Twenty minutes later, Brogan bursts into the room and slams the door behind him. All I've managed to accomplish is opening my textbook to some chapter that may or may not actually be covered on the exam, and a detailed mental recounting of everything that happened between when Mia's brother knocked on her door and when she kicked me out of the apartment.
I can't fucking figure it out.
When I lift my head from my book to look at Brogan, he's glaring at me. Fuck. Did she tell him? "What's wrong?"
He folds his arms and his nostrils flare as he sneers. "I take responsibility, okay? What I did last night was fucking stupid, and you can stop looking at me like I'm some dirtbag who doesn't deserve her."