Page 43 of Wild Hearts

I’m pissed off. I’m not planning on letting him into my apartment unannounced, especially after the way he snapped at me. I make my way through my apartment to the door. I use the peephole to double check that it’s actually Brady standing in the hallway outside my apartment. He’s leaning up against his crutches dressed in a grey Henley tank top with green and black checked boardshorts.

“What are you doing here, Brady?” I rest my forehead against the door and close my eyes.

“Can I come in?” His voice is gruff. “We need to talk.”

“How did you even get up here?”

“One of your neighbours was leaving. He let me in.”

I make a mental note to call the manager of the building to put in a complaint. The entire reason I’d chosen this building was because of the security measures in place. “Now’s not a good time.”

I’m met with silence, making me bring my face up to the peephole again, watching as Brady braces his arms against my door frame, letting his head fall. My heart twists as he looks up again, and I see the anguish on his face magnified through the tiny hole. “Please, I just want... Ineedto talk to you. Please, Rookie?”

The sound of my nickname leaving his lips sends shivers over my body, and I curse at the hold he still has over me.

Moving to Blue Haven for university was what I needed to feel safe again, but it was turning out to be harder than I anticipated. Brady doesn’t know how damaged I am, and I don’t intend for him to find out.

“Rookie?”

I sigh. “Give me a second. I just got out of the bath. Let me get dressed.”

There’s a soft chuckle through the door. “You’re killing me with that mental image.”

I choose to ignore his words and the way they make my body thrum to life in places I’d considered long since dead. I walk to my bedroom on shaky legs and throw on some underwear and a beige crocheted dress. My hair is tied in a topknot on top of my head with a scrunchie – that’ll have to do. I scrub a hand over my tired face as I make my way back through my apartment and take a fortifying breath before I open the door.

Brady straightens, letting his eyes graze over my body before they settle on my own. One hand comes up to rub his neck as he hovers in the doorway. I step back, giving him room to pass, and he offers a small smile as he swings into my apartment on his crutches, making his way over to my couch.

“Do you want a drink or something?” I ask.

He shakes his head before taking a seat, resting the crutches against the wall next to him. Wanting to keep a bit of distance between us, I perch on one of the seats at the breakfast bar. Unable to bring myself to look at Brady, I keep my eyes trained on my fingers which are tracing the pattern on the edge of my dress.

He finally clears his throat and starts to talk. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you the other day. You were... I was... I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you. I was an asshole and I’m really sorry.”

I nod. No point in disputing the facts. “How’s your knee?”

Brady sighs, running his hand over the brace and furrowing his brow. “Not great. It’s going to take a couple of months to heal, and then at least another month of rehab before I can hit the waves again.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.” I can feel his gaze burning a hole through me, but I still can’t bring myself to look at him. “Um...” He clears his throat again. “Look, I know things are a bit... strained between us, and I know that’s mainly my fault.”

I press my lips together, not wanting to blurt out the truth. It kills me to see him so broken up. I haven’t seen him so out of sorts since the night he told me about his dad. Guilt courses through me, knowing it would hurt him even more if he found out I was taking Ivy shopping for the baptism tomorrow.

“You’re the only one who ever understood how I felt about catching Dad and Tarshia last year, and I–I’m not...” I glance up and he shakes his head as he searches for what he wants to say. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know how to deal with everything. With the new baby and the baptism and Dad trying to force us into being a part of his new family... it’s a lot.”

Oh, shit.Brady’s hurting, and I don’t know if I have it in me not to try and comfort him. But if I let him in, it’s going to be harder to keep my distance. I can’t let the lines get blurred. “Brady, I–”

“I know, I know,” Brady interrupts, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. “I shouldn’t be dropping all of this on you, especially when I’m not sure we’re even friends right now.”

“Wearefriends,” I choke out. “We’ll always be friends, but Brady, I–”

“I can’t talk to Ivy,” Brady continues, seeming to take my words as permission to go ahead and bare his soul to me. “She just doesn’t get it. She didn’t have to keep his secret. She didn’t have to deal with the guilt eating her up inside. Jordan, Lachy, and Harley... they try to help, but they have no idea–the Rossi’s are still happily married and Harley’s going through his own shit.” His voice hitches and it takes everything I have to remain where I am when all I want to do is comfort him. But I can’t. I need to keep my distance.

He looks at me, his sparkling green eyes locking me in place and sucking all the oxygen out of the room. “They think I did it on purpose, that I was trying to hurt myself.”

“Were you?”

Brady shakes his head. “I was distracted. It was all too much, you know?”

---