Page 9 of Betting Brett

And as I recount the night's events, I can feel Andy's support, his unwavering friendship, bolstering me for the storm that looms on the horizon. He’s naturally concerned about causing a rift with my parents, but he’s not surprised. He knew at least as much about my mom’s bigotry as I did, and it hit closer to home for him. I reassure him again that it’s not in any way his fault. When we hang up the phone, I feel a little calmer, Andy’s words helping to settle the unease inside me. With my thoughts clearer, I reach for my phone again and call Jen to fill her in on what’s going on. As expected, she’s heated, wanting to make sure both me and Izzy are okay. She was always polite with my mother, but there was no love lost between them, especially after our divorce.

Talking to my two best friends helps, but the storm in my head starts to kick up again as I try to go to sleep. I’m just not sure just how big these thunderclouds will end up becoming.

7

Andy

Myalarmblaresthroughthe bedroom, dragging me out of a dream I can’t quite remember, but judging by the massive tent in my sheets, it was definitely a good one. I stretch, the events of the past few days weighing heavily on my mind. The phone call from Brett, the raw emotion in his voice, had shaken me. I knew that coming back to Shafter Falls would be challenging, but I hadn't anticipated the depth of the conflict it would stir up for Brett’s family. I don’t want to cause any problems for him, but I can’t help being warmed by the idea of him defending me to his parents.

And then the memory of the bet resurfaces, causing a familiar heat to pool in my lower abdomen, making my bed sheets jump up. It was a joke, really it was, but it seemed like it had revealed so much. The way Brett had reacted, the lingering glances, the unspoken words that seemed to hang in the air between us…

I head to the bathroom, the cool tiles contrasting with the heat spreading through my body. The reflection in the mirror shows a man changed by time, but still in his prime. Broad shoulders, a chiseled chest, and a light smattering of hair that trails down to a toned abdomen. My hand instinctively drifts lower, wrapping around my hard length. The sensation is immediate, a jolt of pleasure that courses through me as I close my eyes and give myself a few strokes.

I turn on the shower, the warm water cascading over my body, accentuating every sensation. My hand moves in a steady rhythm, the memory of Brett's lingering glances fueling my fantasies. I imagine his hands on me, his lips trailing down my neck, the weight of his body pressing against mine. The intensity of the fantasy, combined with the sensation of my hand, brings me to the edge quickly. With a low groan, I surrender to the pleasure, my release a testament to the depth of my desire.

Toweling off, I choose a casual outfit, something comfortable and stylish. I want to look good, not just for Brett but for myself. I've learned the importance, over the years, of presenting my best self to the world. And today, with Brett and Isabelle, feels like a new beginning. So it makes sense I pick out my newest clean white sneakers, a crisp pair of blue jeans, and a black polo shirt that happens to hug mejustright.

My phone buzzes and breaks my train of thought. A message from Brett pops up on the screen:“Hey, just a heads up, Izzy’s been talking non-stop about how excited she is for us all to hang out today.”

I smile wide, typing out a quick response. “She’s the freaking cutest. And I’m just as excited.”

He sends me back a simple heart emoji. Simple, but also unexpected. Maybe he was busy and couldn’t type out a long message on his phone? Maybe that’s why he opted for the bright red heart that seems to float off my screen and directly up into my chest.

I get ready quickly, working through the butterflies of anticipation in my chest. Spending time with Brett and Isabelle, even if it's just running errands and hanging out, is more exciting than anything I’ve had planned for a long time. I grab my jacket and head downstairs, waiting for them to arrive, still thinking about that damn emoji heart.

Brett's truck pulls up, and I can see Isabelle's excited face pressed against the window. I open the door, and she practically jumps into my arms. "Uncle Andy!" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Hey there, munchkin," I reply, ruffling her hair. I glance up to see Brett watching us, a soft smile on his face. The tension from the past few days seems to have dissipated, leaving Brett a little more pensive, but basically unchanged.

We pile into the truck, and as we drive through the familiar streets of Shafter Falls, memories come flooding back. The ice cream shop where Brett and I used to grab milkshakes after school, the park where we'd spend hours talking about all the random bullshit we were dealing with as teens. Leeanne’s—the classic town diner that also served as the town watering hole-- where we’d get the best damn food I’d ever tasted, laughing over greasy cheese fries and burgers, finishing it off with pies that were so good they could have won awards. I remember the drives, the way the wind would whip through our hair, the music blaring from the radio, and the unspoken yearning I felt every time I glanced over at Brett. The urge to reach over and intertwine our fingers was always there, lurking just beneath the surface of the giddy friendship.

As we drive, Isabelle chatters away, filling us in on her latest school project and the drama unfolding in her fourth-grade class. At one point, she insists on showing us a new song she learned, and before we know it, we're all singing along at the top of our lungs, laughing and enjoying the moment.

It was… well, damn, it was perfect.

We pull into a parking lot, and as Brett parks the truck, Isabelle makes a dash for a nearby ice cream truck. "Wait up!" Brett calls out, but she's already at the window. Brett and I follow at a more leisurely pace, and as we wait for Isabelle to make her selection, he turns to me, his expression serious. “Thanks, man," he begins, his voice low, "for listening to me the other night. I appreciate it."

I nod, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Always, Brett. You know that. I just wish my being here hadn’t caused this rift," I tell him, my heart breaking for him. I hate that he has to go through this. Especially when it’s coming from someone who is supposed to love him unconditionally, it sounds to me like Darlene has plenty of conditions when it comes to loving her own son.

“You know it’s not you. You’re not the problem in this whole stupid situation.” Brett responds.

Our moment is interrupted by Isabelle's excited voice. "Look, Uncle Andy! They have your favorite flavor!" She holds up a cone, green mint chocolate chip ice cream already beginning to soften in the sun.

I chuckle, taking the cone from her. "You remembered! Thanks, Izzy."

As we continue our errands, the day unfolds with a series of small yet meaningful moments. From helping Isabelle pick out new art supplies to laughing over a spilled milkshake, it feels like the bond between the three of us grows stronger with each passing hour. It’s making it hard to keep my fantasies from running away with me.

At one point, after we finish up a race through the supermarket and we're loading groceries into the truck, a can of soup slips from Isabelle's grasp, rolling under the vehicle.

“I got it,” I say.

“I got it,” Brett says at the same time. Brett and I both bend down to retrieve it at the same time, our arms tangling with each other as we reach under the truck. We exchange a quick, charged glance, the electricity between us palpable.

Isabelle, ever the observant one, giggles. "You two are like an old married couple," she teases.

“Who are you calling old, missy?” I say as I get up with the rogue soup can in my hand. I try to ignore the word ‘married’ in her observation.

“You!” she shouts and breaks out into laughter.

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