Page 45 of The Step Dare

“Thank you. I do.”

“Speaking of that boyhole, Dax is always really smiley when I see him around campus. Think he had a good time.”

“No shit.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Figured he might have thought you were fun, and I was just some noob who didn’t know what he was doing.”

His brows tug closer together. “Trust me, Taylor, he was loving our cocks every way we gave them to him.” My cheeks warm, and his expression turns serious. “Don’t blush like that.” It’s like he’s trying to command me to stop.

“What?”

“You’re just trying to torture me since you know I can’t kiss you again.”

“You’re just gonna make it redder if you keep talking like that.”

“That works too,” he says with a wink.

I’ve seen the guy work his charm on people countless times, but it’s wild having him direct it at me.

“Shut it, Bren,” I say, though I’m not exactly hating it.

The lighthearted moment is great, but playful as we are, something else lingers too, ever since Brenner brought up his conversation with his dad earlier.

He studies my expression, his smile fading. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Damn, this guy knows me.

He reaches up, rests his hand on my cheek, then slides it up, running his fingers through my bangs. “Come on, Tay. I told you my stuff. Your turn.”

“Okay, there’s something, but it doesn’t have anything to do with popcorn or hole.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

That’s the thing about Brenner—the way he’s so careful with me. Knows not to push too hard.

“I hope you don’t think it’s anything you did, but when you talk about your parents, it reminds me of the Piece of Shit. Here you are, wishing you had more time with your mom, and I wish I could have so many years back from him.”

I quiet again, and Brenner runs his knuckles down my cheek. “I remember when you told me about him. That night after we’d been drinking at that party senior year. But I knew about it before then. Not the specifics, but I would watch you when you brought up your dad or when I was talking about mine. There was something there, something off.”

The memory stirs a warm sensation in my chest. The night I finally spoke to someone, in a way I couldn’t even speak to my mom about that bastard.

“But you never pushed me to share,” I say. “You just let me get it out in my own time.”

I keep waiting for Brenner to say something, crack a joke or diss the Piece of Shit, but he’s silent. Listening. It’s a side of Bren not many get to see. Like it’s just for me, which makes it that much more special.

“I still remember the night that changed everything,” I say. “At the kitchen table, when he was getting onto Mom about how he would have rather had lasagna than stroganoff, and he wouldn’t let up, which really was just another night in our house. I could see how uncomfortable it was making her. And it’d only been six months since we lost Aria. She finally got up because she couldn’t take it anymore, and like he was punishing her for daring to get away from his bullshit, he comes out with those fucking words: ‘if you can’t handle that, I don’t know how you thought you could handle having another kid.’ Just so vindictive, so nasty, so impossible for me to understand why he would utter them when she was still in so much pain.”

Bren’s nostrils flare, his jaw tensing. He might be one of the few people who could hate the Piece of Shit as much as me or Mom.

“But you stood up to him,” Brenner says, since this isn’t the first time he’s heard this.

And it feels good knowing he remembers the details. Not that it surprises me.

My eyes water. “As much as a ten-year-old can. Bottled it up for so long, and I guess all that pressure had to be released. All I did was tell him he was being mean and hurting her, and he didn’t look so high and mighty then. I could see he was ashamed I’d called him out. Like he knew I fucking saw him for the monster he really was. Because that may have been the worst thing he said, but there were so many cruel comments, so many jabs wearing on Mom. For long enough, even before Aria, that I forgot how bright Mom could shine.”

“But you see it now.”

“Yeah, I do. And it wasn’t easy. A lot of therapy and support from friends, steadily rebuilding her life.”

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