But she was too young, and his loser ass was in no way good enough for her. Besides that, she’d been, and apparently still was, surrounded by her three older, ridiculously overprotective brothers, who would make sure he knew it. He never forgot her, not even when he left to the Marines for years. He thought of her the whole time, thought of what might’ve been. So last summer when he came home on his leave, he’d decided since she was older and he’d made such an about-face with his life he’d go for it. He was determined to prove to her and her brothers that he was worthy of her.
Seeing her for the first time in years had been breathtaking. She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. Then she dropped the bomb. He was too late. She was already in a relationship. It made sense too, who she’d ended up with. Eric was her brother’s best friend since they were all kids. He’d had access to being around her by default all those years. Of course the guy had staked his claim on her the moment she was allowed to date.
Not only had Eric always had a better chance because of his friendship with her brothers he had something else—he was Hispanic. Brandon didn’t think Sofie or her brothers were racist against white folk or anything, but he’d seen it all through high school. Girls like Sofie tended to stick to their own kind. Her family was very traditional. At all the parties they’d thrown all year long, there had been mariachi bands playing traditional Spanish music. Hell they owned and ran a Mexican restaurant. If her family had a choice between the rich college Hispanic guy they’d known and trusted all their lives and the loner white boy from that house up the street where the cops were often called for domestic disturbances as a suitor for their little princess, naturally Eric was the hands-down winner.
Still, even as she’d told him about her and Eric, Brandon was convinced he saw something deep within her. There was something still there. He’d seen it in those big beautiful eyes and felt it when he’d finally kissed her last summer. She’d been as willing as he was. That’s why a few days after Sal’s visit he’d followed her to the beach where she ran. He had to make sure she didn’t believe the bullshit her brothers were trying to feed her now.
He’d gone there with a tiny bit of hope. Maybe if he got the chance he had last summer to get close to her, he could do it differently. He’d take it slower this time. He was certain he saw the possibility of her falling in love with him—the possibility that maybe he could convince her to leave Eric for him. It would be worth not reenlisting and staying here to fight for that chance. If he thought there was even the faintest hope, he’d do it in a heartbeat. So he’d offered to apologize to her brothers and to Eric—try and get on their good side so that he could at least have a chance.
Even though she assured him she never told her brothers he took advantage of her, that it was the conclusion they came to on their own, she did agree with her brothers that what she and Brandon had done was wrong, a mistake, and that he needed to stay away from her now. But her response to him wanting to try to make amends with Eric and her brothers had left him once again with uncertainty and a bit of optimism.
“The damage is done, Brandon. We had a chance to be friends, and we blew it. Eric was actually okay with me running with you until . . .”
As tiny as it was, Brandon was still clinging to that glimmer of hope—hope that maybe she was regretting having blown their chance as much as he was.
Taking another swig of the whisky, Brandon pondered that. Maybe if he told her how he felt about her, she would admit to her forbidden feelings as well. Was her response her way of cryptically trying to tell him she blew it too?
We blew it.
“We blew it,” he whispered bitterly.
But would she be saying that if she knew how he really felt? Would she be so quick to dismiss any further chance if he told her?
He sat up, his head spinning a little, and he laughed stupidly then immediately frowned. How the hell was he supposed to tell her now when he had to sneak around and follow her like a creeper just to have a conversation with her? Even she had cut him short the other day at the beach.
Flinging the pocket knife he’d been flipping open and shut across the room, he stood up. Life sucked! Out of nowhere, Sal’s words suddenly slammed into him. Stay the f**k away from Sofie, or I’m coming after you personally.
“Fuck no!” He took another swig of from the near empty bottle. “No, Sal. I won’t stay away from her, not until I tell her how I feel!”
He set the bottle down on his desk and charged out the door. The entire hallway moved from side to side as he walked through it.
“Where are you going?” His mother’s anxious eyes searched his.
“To see a friend,” he said, walking past her.
“Brandon, you’re drunk!”
For some reason that made him laugh. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“You shouldn’t go out like this.” His mother warned.
“Don’t worry. I’m not driving,” he said as he pushed through the front door.
The cool fresh air hit him like smelling salts, and he shook his head. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how buzzed he really was. Even drunk he knew this was a bad idea, but he continued his long strides with even more conviction. The entire cul-de-sac where Sofie lived was packed with cars. Of course, he expected nothing less. At every party her family had ever had, they’d had a ton of people. A New Year’s party for them would be huge.
There were a few men just outside her front door as he walked up the circular driveway. He recognized Sarah, Sofie’s brother Angel’s girl, tying balloons around the mailbox out front, so he approached her.