Page 15 of Slow Burn
One of my wife beaters and a pair of jogging pants.Fuck me.
“That was fast. I love to paint actually, so I am excited. Look at you coming back prepared, huh?” Brynn calls, rapid-fire, sitting in the middle of the room with instructions neatly lined up around her.
“Look at you, just as prepared. Not promising I can behave with you wearing my shit, Brynn.” I love the flush that tints her skin, from her ears to the swell of cleavage my tank top shows off.
“Attempt to anyway. Don’t ruin it, remember, Levi?” Brynn bounces to her feet, my eyes focus on her tits and she makes a face at me.
“I will attempt to, beautiful. I promise.”
I do my best, too. After I change into a similar outfit—tank top and basketball shorts—we get started. I lay out the drop cloths while she covers the new furniture we will assemble later. I don’t miss the sway of her hips or the way she looks bent over, but I behave. I pretend to miss the way she looks at me, her eyes linger at my shoulders and forearms. I still behave. Then we start to paint.
Brynn talks. A lot. I like it though. Its bouncy and soft, almost melodic as we paint. I listen to every word she says, filing every single bit of it away in my Brynn locker.
During our three days together four months ago, I started that file. I know she had just graduated with a degree in architecture. I know she comes from wealth and power but doesn’t seem too proud of it. I know she had a brother who died, and I know better than most how to handle that topic.
I also found out she hadn’t dated seriously in over a year, and sporadically at best before then. I know our night beneath the stars and the morning after meant as much to her as it did to me, even if I fucked it up after. Tonight, she serves up more bits about herself and I eat them up like a starved man.
“I guess I like putting things together. Building something. Lord knows my father tore enough down.” We have all but one wall complete when she says this, so we both pause.
Brynn also knows about me. Knows my parents are gone, and how. Why I became a firefighter. I told her how close I was to my parents, how badly I miss them and hope I made them proud. I see the guilt flash across her face so I move close, invading her space as I shake my head.
“Not all dads are my dad, baby. I hope to be like him. For her.” I look down the hall, where Amelia has slept soundly for almost two hours.
“Then be like him. For her and for you, Levi. Will you tell me why?” Brynn folds to the floor, setting her paint brush carefully in the roller pan.
“I will tell you anything you ask me, baby. But, which why, exactly do you mean?” I regret the words the moment I say them.
There are plenty of why’s between us, actually. Why did I let that morning happen? Why did I let the past four months happen the way I did? Why, when we were with the others, did I behave as if I wanted her, then let her know I took home other women? Plenty of why’s.
“Bigger than the ones you might be considering, Levi. Why Amelia? I mean...I know how you feel about family. I think I do, I guess. Did Isabel know too? Did you two plan a family? Most guys living your life, might not be setting up a nursery and hiring a nanny for the baby their ex-wife had behind his back and then dumped at his feet.” I winced, and she covered her mouth.
“Its fine,” I sink down beside her, sitting away from her as I set my roller aside, “I do want a family. No, we never discussed it. Yeah maybe I once thought it might happen with her, but I never truly hoped for a family with Iz. Before her, yes? Now,” My eyes focus on her and she squirms under the weight of my look, “hell yes. Most guys might not do right by a nugget they can’t say for certain is even theirs. I am not most guys. That Princess needed someone, but I think so do I. Not because it’s a part of Iz, because I don’t even know how true that is. Because it’s might be a part of me, and I don’t have anyone else. I know what it’s like. I can’t just do it the easy way, hand her off and not know what life she might live. I think she is mine, Iz lied a lot but not about the big shit. Except for the forever thing, of course.” I watch Brynn think this over, then bite back a smile as she inches closer to me.
“You got married for the right reasons, Levi. Maybe not to have a forever, but look at what you got out of it.” I nod my head and watch her hands trace the lines of the wood floor.
“I don’t think I did, Brynn. I got married because I didn’t want to be alone. Because Iz made me hot for a few months, and I thought it could be more. I didn’t love Isabel, Brynn.” Those green eyes go bright and wide, searching my face.
“How do you know?” Again, she inches closer, just slightly.
“It hurt, what she did. Because I trusted her, even if maybe I wasn’t in love with her. I thought that’s what you do, you know? You find someone who makes you feel shit, you get married. Make it work. Really, Iz knew better than I did because she said it would never work. There is no forever.” I bow my head a little because, for a while, I thought she might be right.
“Isabel was always a fucking liar.” Brynn’s voice startles me with its ire; it also stirs my dick, but that’s a common response to her.
“Yeah, I suppose so.” When my eyes lift to hers, she is so close now, our knees touch.
“Didn’t answer my question, Levi.” Brynn points out, eyes on my hands as they reach out, sliding over her thighs.
“Which one, baby?” I am watching the way her stomach tightens, the way her breasts bounce as I touch her.
The thick sweats are bunched at her knees, rolled at her waist. Plenty of skin to touch. I have behaved for hours. Now I can smell her, feel her warmth in the air and I can’t help myself. It could be so easy.
I could lift her into my lap, tear that tank—which she ruined with paint and her perfect tits—right off and have those sweats down in seconds. So Goddamn easy. I don’t though. I am working hard to be in control. Her fingers come out and trace up my forearms, flicking at paint spatters and the chords that jump beneath her touch.
“How do you know you didn’t.... with Isabel?” Brynn says her name the same every time. Icy and as if it tastes bad on her tongue.
“Because. I hurt for a while, yeah. Not because I lost her, really. Because I was alone. I had just gotten used to not feeling alone. And then...” My hands shove up her thighs, thumbs moving in slow circles, her breathing coming faster.
“And then...” Her voice shudders the same way she does every time I touch her.
