Page 15 of Memories of Us

Brenton

EVERY CORNER OF THIShouse elicited a new memory, some good, a few terrible. Growing up privileged wasn't as glorious as people thought it to be. The worst of those memories were exactly what I wanted to chase away tonight with the help of Pappy's extensive liquor trove instead of the clear fizzing liquid filling my glass. Thankfully the last of the locals paying their respects left a few minutes ago, leaving Dad and me alone.

Which was another reason my attention kept diverting back to the high-end bottles along the bar.

Shoulder pressed against the window frame, I stared out into the dark. Besides the few bright windows of Beks’s father's house, nothing else was visible. Those few lights captivated my attention. With every breath after seeing her today, a new memory of her, of us, came flooding back.

Still nothing too specific, but snapshots of laughter and talking under the vast star-filled sky became more evident. And between the innocent memories, snippets of us skin to skin, my lips pressed against hers, my name breathless from her lips bubbled to the surface. Each time I tried to hold on to the memory, it slipped through my grasp and faded once again.

The therapist in Dallas had said the recent blackouts could be from repressed memories and emotions. Maybe it wasn't random memories I'd been avoiding, but ones that surrounded one specific person. Someone my mind had been fighting for years for me to remember.

Her.

Almost like she was the missing piece. Beks could be the cure.

The moment our eyes connected in the main room, the constant simmering tension and anger settled. A single look from her stilled everything. Each stolen touch freed me from some invisible bind that had held me back from truly living.

The past several years I thought I was happy, but now it felt more like contentment. The army gave me a family, a career, a diversion from the self-destructive path I had sprinted down. I'd never regret the decision. No doubt I was still alive because of the irrational, rushed choice made minutes after leaving rehab all those years ago.

Maybe she was the reason I made that decision. I had to survive for her.

But if she was that important, that impactful, then how in the hell did I forget her for so long? And the now burning question of what I did to her.

An unwelcome thought settled in my gut. What if I was like Dad? What if I forced—no, I'd never do that. No matter if I was drunk, high, or sober, I wasn’t that type of person, no matter who my father was.

Turning from the window, I tipped the glass back and downed the last swallows of the drink. Dad watched with a smirk from where he sat on the couch.

“What?” After setting the empty glass on the side table, I leaned against the window once more and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Nice scene today. Glad we can still be a source of entertainment for these people.”

The conniving glint in his eyes had me watching my words.

“Living up to our family name. Like you cared. You were high as a fucking kite all day.”

“Hell yeah, I was. No way could I get through this day sober with all those damn people paying their respects like he was a celebrity around here.”

Tension tightened the muscles down my spine and between my shoulder blades. “Pappy was a good man. Better than you.”

“He had you fooled. He was a mean old bastard who enjoyed controlling everyone by dangling his damn money in their faces to get what he wanted.”

As he spoke, the tension spread to my chest and up my neck before settling in the back of my head with a steady pulse. Fuck, not here. Not in front of him. I gripped the mantle and stared at the ornate clock in the center.

“That girl you were talking to, I remember her,” he said. I flicked my gaze to him and found him smirking. “You had your fun with her, didn't you? Hell, the way she filled out, I wouldn't mind taking your leftovers. Imagine that long dark hair fisted—”

“Watch it,” I gritted out. Darkness spread in the edges of my vision. I had to get out of there.

With a shove off the wall, I strode out of the room, leaving Dad watching from the couch. Needing fresh air, I turned left down the hall and stormed straight for the back patio.

Outside, the hot, dry air burned down to my lungs with each deep inhale. Stepping away from the house, my vision cleared and breathing eased to a regular cadence.

Crazy considering each step took me closer to her.

Beautiful her.

Fucking hother.

Damn, that woman had curves that could tempt any man. Add in those sultry honey brown eyes and creamy tan skin and she was a walking pinup model.

I stopped at the edge of the patio and gripped the back of my neck. Beks better say yes. Damn, I hoped she said yes. If she wasn't the magical cure, it sure as hell could be fun while we figured it out.

Even with her nowhere in sight, my fingers itched to touch her again, as well as one other stiff body part. I was surprised she didn't say anything about the massive hard-on that was visible in my suit pants when I touched her. How could I not be turned on with her between my hands, under my control, loving it as much as me?

It was a small miracle I didn't give in to the need to kiss her.

But I would.

As soon as she said yes.

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