Page 52 of The Chemistry of Us

Brady threw the Apple Remote. “For real? Can’t she do that shit on her own day?”

I really didn’t want to have to explain. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll smile and wave, make her proud, convince everyone that I have the family I always wanted and dreamed of growing up, one that gave hugs instead of gifts and used words instead of passive-aggressive looks across the table for using the wrong fork or, and this is a bad one, sneezing.”

“No shit?”

“I still have trauma when I’m about to sneeze. I’ve never been yelled at so loudly.” I forced a smile. “Seriously, I’m used to it. Are you headed out with the girlfriend?”

He shrugged. “She’s her own woman. Gonna let her go hang out with the girls, maybe have a spa day, then when she comes home, I’m going to give her a massage and tell her how perfect she is while baking her favorite dish.”

He was positively beaming. Seriously, who was this guy? “Really?”

Brady walked up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m full of shit. I’m possessive as hell, and I will have that woman naked beneath me screaming my name at least three times before brunch, but it was a nice thought. She can hang with the girls during the week. On the weekends, she’s mine, and she’s not leaving my bed, though I will DoorDash the fuck out of that app and order her whatever she wants—that’s love. Being together.”

I visibly flinched. I knew it was worse than I thought when he lifted his hand to touch my shoulder again. “Gotta go.” I forced another lame smile. “I have some studying to do.”

“Yeah, sure, sure.” He took a step back and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets while I made a beeline to my room and quickly shut the door behind me.

Memories of my birthday with Vaughan suddenly assaulted me—the only birthday I celebrated with him. It was magical. He’d asked me what I wanted, and I told him I just needed him, the beach, and a dozen donuts with champagne.

Not only did the man deliver but he also set up a tent on the beach with a campfire. Sometimes when I closed my eyes, I could still smell the smoke. It was like he’d looked into my soul and taken every single note, then given me the best present I could have asked for.

Him.

The stars.

The smell of wood burning.

Sugar.

And a bit of a buzz that lingered long after the champagne was gone and long after we spent the night naked in that tent.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sandra yelled, hands on hips, wearing her stupid white pantsuit. “You’re sleeping together? Wow, that didn’t take you long, did it, Tru? To find the worst possible guy and give him your heart. Let me know how that goes when he tramples all over it. I thought you were smart!”

Shaking from fear of getting kicked out of the house, out of the security it provided me, I burst into tears.

“Stop.” Vaughan shielded my body from her. “Right now. We’re together. This isn’t some weird fling. I genuinely care about her.”

Sandra rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I genuinely care about charity.” Her eyes locked on mine.

I let out a sharp gasp. Did she just call me charity to my face?

Visions of my future shattered at that moment. I wanted to run, but where does a person who nobody's ever wanted really go? And was he using me? I did have doubts at times only because it was moving so fast and because he’d done such a one-eighty.

I was no longer shielding myself with him.

The aftermath would be devastating to me.

No. I trusted him. It was fine.

“Well”—Sandra kicked sand toward us—“I hope it was worth it. Mark my words, Tru. He’ll leave you. It’s what Aires men do. They promise you the world when it benefits them, then show you their backs because something else is more convenient.”

She tripped over her feet and nearly face-planted into the sand in an effort to stomp back down the beach and up to the house.

Vaughan pulled me tighter against his naked chest. “You okay?”

I shivered in his arms. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“She didn’t mean it,” he whispered against my hair.

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