Stupid Girl(77)
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Silently, Brax led me down the stairs, out the main lobby and, by the time we hit the exit door, I thought he would self-combust. We made it to the parking lot before I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew he’d heard what Noah had said.
“Brax, I’m sorry. I don’t know—”
“What was that, huh, Gracie?” Brax, my scope bag still on his shoulder, began to pace. The anger rolled off him in sheets, and his face was a mixture of emotions. In the lamplight I noticed hurt was one of them. “You’re discussing us with him?”
“No, I—”
“He’s got no right in our fucking business, Gracie.” His eyes were so angry, so inflamed, and it stung to be on the receiving end of such a stare, in more ways than one. “None.” He wiped his face with his hands. “Fuckin TA. He doesn’t know me.” He glared at me. “The only reason I didn’t break his fucking nose is because I didn’t want you to get in any hot water. Period.”
The sting of his anger, seemingly toward me, sifted into defensiveness. “Are you mad at me?”
When he stood close, his body engulfed mine. He grew louder. Angrier. “You were discussing us, Gracie. Me. With that prick. Yeah, I’m pissed.”
Irritation flushed over me. “I wasn’t discussing anything, Brax.” My voice quieted, and I felt hurt. “What he said to me was unasked for, unprovoked. Out of the blue.”
Brax drew closer, his head lowered, eyes focused and accusing. “You didn’t bother to correct him.”
His blame singed me, and I felt an icy dread sludge through my insides. I retrieved my truck keys from my pocket. “You didn’t give me time to. Can I have my scope please?” When he just stood there, I turned and walked to my truck. Brax was right on my heels. Once there, I unlocked and opened the door.
“You’re pissed? Are you serious?” Sarcasm and disbelief hung in his voice. “I’m the one who walked up to find you and dickhead all cuddled up on that platform, gazing at the stars and talking about how you needed to be careful with me.” He barked out a laugh. “Give me a fucking break, Sunshine. Even you can’t be that naïve.”
White hot emotions careened into me then; fury, pain, and the realization that Brax had a serious problem with jealousy. Much like Kelsy. I lifted my scope bag from Brax’s shoulder and slid it across the bench seat in my cab. I climbed in after it.
“Whoa, whoa,” Brax then said. He grabbed my waist with both hands and pulled me back. As I stood there, my heart raced; my breath hurt to move through my lungs. And I hated that for the first time since falling for Brax Jenkins, I wanted to get away from him. “You’re going to leave, just like that?” he asked.
I turned in his hands, my back to my opened truck door, and I looked up into beautiful, frightening, astonished eyes. “For whatever reason, Noah took it upon himself to warn me about you. I had no control over it. That’s what you heard when you walked up, Brax. I was just as stunned as you to hear it.” I took my hands and pushed his off my hips. “But what stuns me even more is how quickly your anger turned on me.” Twisting, I jumped up into the cab of my truck. Tears stung my eyes but I kept them from falling. “I’m not nearly as naïve as you think I am.”
I yanked on my door to close it, but Brax caught it, held it open. “Gracie, wait. Don’t go. I’m sorry.”
Sadness made my gaze heavy. “So am I.” This time I pulled, and Brax let the door close. I started the engine and put the truck in drive.
Brax slapped the fender, making a tinny thump. “I said I’m fuckin sorry!” he yelled. “Gracie!”
Pain made me react, made me want to just escape and, although not the mature response, there it was. Tears pushed past my lids now, and I angrily swiped them away. It was just a stupid fight, I knew that; but it was our first. It didn’t feel good. Not at all. Dammit, I didn’t want him to see me cry.
I pulled out of the parking lot. I didn’t look back.
Somehow, I knew Brax would follow me; the round headlight in my rear view mirror was all the proof I needed. I knew he had a right to be angry, but for some reason it offended me that he seemed to take that anger out on me. As if I’d had anything to do with Noah’s proclamation of Brax’s bad reputation.
No sooner did I pull into my parking spot, kill the engine and open the door was Brax already off his bike and standing there. He opened the door. “Jesus fuck, Gracie, please.” I sat stone-statue still in my truck, staring out the windshield, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the wheel. His voice held pain; more than what was caused by our fight, or by Noah’s warning, or even by his accidental intrusion on the conversation. I let out a pent-up sigh, watched as a tear fell onto the thigh of my faded jeans.