Page 33 of Between Hate and Desire

“I’d be honored.” I cut him off and swallow hard.

Brandon stands, and so do I, and we exchange a tight hug. “I’m happy for you. You deserve it, man,” I tell him, genuinely meaning it.

As we break apart, I grab my plate and place it in the sink. He does the same. “Thanks. Appreciate it. Now to grow some balls and get down on one knee and pray she says yes.”

I chuckle. “She’s going to automatically say yes the moment those words leave your mouth. Shouldn’t even be a concern.”

“Hope you’re right. I never imagined I’d find someone likeher—gorgeous, sweet, strong values—and she’d be interested in a guy like me. We never would’ve met had you not guilted me into going out that night. When I think about it, she’s more your type. Well, based on the girls you dated in college. I never dreamed I’d even have a chance, but I felt something almost immediately, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go now.”

The knife in my chest drives in deeper as if that was possible. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Lennon wanted you, or she wouldn’t be with you.”

That’s been fucking clear since day one.

Brandon nods and watches me rinse off our plates. “I know you two have this weird sibling rivalry thing going on, but you’ll both have to learn to like each other or at least get along. We’re going to be a big, happy family,” he says, snickering. “The wedding, then hopefully buying a house, and then starting a family. You two are gonna have to set your differences aside so I don’t lose my damn mind. That or Lennon will eventually cut your balls off once and for all.”

At least my façade is believable. The last thing he needs to know is how I feel—how I’ve always felt—about his future wife.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine.” Grimacing, I wipe my hands on a towel.

Brandon chuckles, knowing damn well it’s not going to be that easy.

“I think I’m gonna go to the gym,” I tell him, needing to release the weight of the pain bubbling in my chest. I’m fighting an internal tug-of-war I know I’ll never win.

“Cool,” he says. “I gotta stop by the office. I left my laptop there yesterday.”

“Working on the weekend? Damn.” I walk past him, forcing a chuckle.

“I won’t make partner within the next decade if I don’t show initiative,” he sarcastically responds.

I go into my room and change to my workout clothes, grab my keys, and tell Brandon bye before I head out.

Once I’m inside my truck, I sit there with the engine idling, trying to catch my breath as I hold the steering wheel with white knuckles. I knew this day was coming. Their relationship has always been serious since day one but even more so since Lennon moved in. The part of my heart reserved for her knew this was inevitable. The sinking feeling takes over, and the guilt of wishing she’d chosen me instead of him practically strangles me. I need to work through my demons and be genuinely happy for them both.

I drive to the gym, but after I park, I call my brother before going inside.

“Hayden,” I say as soon as he answers.

“Everything okay?” he instantly asks. I know I don’t sound like myself because I certainly don’t feel like myself.

I try to find my words because I don’t want to be a little bitch about this, but Hayden knows the truth—the full story. He’s the only one who does. “Brandon just told me he’s gonna propose to Lennon in July.”

The line goes quiet, and I have to look at the screen to make sure our call didn’t drop. Apparently, cell reception in New York sucks because of all the buildings.

“Wow, man. I’m sorry.” He sucks in a deep breath. I’m sure this was the last thing he expected me to say. “What’re ya gonna do?”

I release a sarcastic laugh. “Be his best man and give him all the support I can. I’d never do anything to ruin their relationship. She hates me anyway, which I’ve purposely made happen these past two years, but?—”

“But it doesn’t make it hurt any less,” he says somberly.

“Yeah.” I don’t even know what to say, and I don’t know why I called him.

I’m losing my fucking mind.

“I don’t have any life-changing advice for you, Hunter. I wish I had something to say that’d fix everything for you, but I’m at a loss. Maybe it’s time to move out and make a real effort to get over her for good. Perhaps date someone for more than a weekend? What was it you told me that one time? Have a one-night stand, wake up in someone’s bed whose name you don’t remember, bathroom sex? Yeah, doallthose things.” He chuckles at the memory.

I think back to that time in his apartment last summer when he was still hung up on his high school sweetheart, Savannah. After ten years, he never got over her. I draw in a deep breath and exhale.

“I already did those things, remember? That was part of my sex bucket list to get over Lennon in the first place. But hell, maybe I need a new and improved list.”

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