The dry look he returned told me just how unimpressed he was by the question. “My wife would kick my ass if I didn’t make sure you got home completely safe and sound.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “You want me to wake her up and prove it to you?”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. “No, don’t bother Sarah. Just… Fine. Whatever. Follow me to my door if it’s that important to you.”
“Good. I will.”
It was an awkward, quiet walk up to my apartment. Brandt stayed a step behind and to my right. Kind of like a bodyguard.
For some reason, I suddenly remembered what Colton had told me about the boy who’d been molested by his mother. It was strange to think of something like that happening to Brandt. And I knew I shouldn’t, but I was suddenly happy it hadn’t been Colton who’d gone through what Brandt had. Colton still carried the guilt of running away that night, but he had a strong constitution. He’d get through it. I was just beyond relieved he hadn’t had to experience it firsthand.
At my door, I paused and glanced back at Brandt, sending him a genuine smile. “Thank you. Even though it was completely unnecessary. I appreciate your concern.”
He looked hesitant to leave as he eyed my door uncertainly. I’ll admit, the entrance to my apartment had seen better days. It could probably be broken through easily.
“Do you want me to look around inside before I go?” he asked.
“No.” Oh, hell no! “I have two roommates who often have their boyfriends over. Don’t worry, there would be too many people inside for him to break in unnoticed.”
Brandt nodded, seemingly relieved, and took a step back. “Well, then…I have a wife to get home to. Goodnight, Juli.”
“Night.”
I stood at the partially opened door and watched him go. He really was a nice guy, but I realized then it never would’ve worked between us.
Back when I’d been Team Brandt, I had thought about him when he wasn’t around, but I hadn’t really obsessed about him in his absence, and most of all, there was no way I’d ever feel comfortable enough to bicker and hiss and be rude to him. I suddenly realized I appreciated that very much about Colton. Not only did I love to express myself openly with my man, but he seemed to relish it, too.
It just worked for us.
Wishing he were here now, asleep in my bed so I could just climb in and curl up with him, I stepped inside and shut and locked the door behind me. When I reached up to hang my keys from the hook, I noticed a note from both of my roommates on the small whiteboard above the key rack. Both of them had decided to stay the night at their boyfriends’ places. Which left me all alone in the apartment.
The hair on my arms instantly lifted in dread, and my neck prickled with unease.
I was alone in my apartment, right?
Dammit, I hated getting the creepy crawlies.
Remembering the anger and retribution that had glowed in Shaun’s gaze when he’d glared at me in the nightclub, I flipped on the big overhead light, no longer worried about waking roommates. Then I grabbed my keys again, clutching them in stabber-position, as I walked through each room, lighting them up as I went.
Shaun was not in my apartment.
Certain I was alone, I backtracked to my room and plopped down on my bed, exhausted yet wired from the adrenaline rush.
Lying on my back, I stared up at my ceiling a few seconds and craned my head just enough to see my favorite dream catcher dangling from the wall directly above me.
When I’d been little, my father had told me it would keep the bad dreams away. But for me, it had also seemed to help nurture the good dreams. All of them had inspired a kind of hope inside me, goals for the future, something to look forward to and wish upon. For the longest time, those dreams had been pride-driven. I’d wanted to aspire to something to be proud of like a successful businesswoman. I’d wanted a life I could look back upon when I was old and gray and know I had worked hard for and deserved what I had. Even when I’d met and married Shaun once upon a time, my dreams had been about what kind of image I wanted to project with him.
I think that was why it hadn’t worked with us—well, aside from his temper and unfaithfulness—but from my part, I hadn’t thought of him and me as a team working together. We’d been two people with totally separate lives and agendas apart from each other. It was like he’d been someone to help me fill the image I’d wanted.
Looking back now, I realized that was all it had been: an image, not some real-life corporeal bond. There’d been no substance, nothing to really grab on to and dig my fingers into in order to keep us together. Maybe it had all been my fault then that we hadn’t lasted because I had viewed our relationship wrong. Then again, it was probably best I hadn’t because the guy was an ass, and spending the rest of my life with him would’ve made me miserable.
Besides, there was Colton now.
Colton.