Page 69 of The Sweetest Risk

“I did it because I love you, Brooke. I couldn’t stand another man even looking in your direction. For ten years I’ve been distracting myself so that I wouldn’t deck every man who touched you. Who kissed you. Who so much as held your hand.”

We stand there silently for what feels like an eternity. It’s fucking freezing out here. The rain is not going to let up anytime soon. Deep down, I know that Brooke’s resumed hatred for me isn’t going to let up anytime soon, either.

Her eyes are steel. “That doesn’t change the fact that you were willing to gamble with my emotions. Nothing has changed in ten years. God, just when I thought you weren’t a son of a bitch, you go ahead and fool me again.”

She bumps into me and I finally let her open the car door. Before she shuts the door, she says the four words I hoped I would never hear from her:

“Stay away from me.”

30

Iam tapping my fingers on the table as I wait for Bradley to show up. A couple days after the whole playoff party fiasco, he texted asking if I wanted to grab dinner. Apparently, he wanted to see how I am doing.

How am I doing? Oh, since your best friend and former bane of my existence made a damn bet about me and my dating life and made me fall for him in the process? Miserable. Pissed. Confused. Heartbroken. Does all of the above count as an answer? Because I am feeling every possible emotion right now and have been since my brother uttered those fateful words,“Tell her about the bet.”Those words have been haunting me almost as much as Tristan’s perfect face. I can’t get him out of my head, no matter how hard I try.

Bradley is fifteen minutes late and I’m lifting my phone to call him when I hear, “Oh I see her, thank you!” I look up and see my brother make his way to the table from the hostess stand, where the hostess is now looking at him like he is a piece of meat. Ew. I always find it disgusting that anyone would look at my brother like that.

He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Hey B. Sorry I’m late. I had a hard time finding a parking spot. You look good.”

I look like shit. He’s just trying to be a good brother. “You’re a terrible liar. Always have been.”

“I mean, considering everything…”

I glare at him and since he has known me all his life, he knows not to continue with whatever he was going to say.

The waitress comes over. “What can I get you?” she asks Bradley.

“Just some water for right now, thank you. I haven’t really looked at the menu yet.”

“I will get that for you shortly. You still good, hon?”

I nod. She gives me a smile before walking to the beverage station to get a pitcher of water. I think she can read me like a book. Everyone who has caught sight of me can probably tell I am having a rough go of it.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about, Brad? We don’t normally get breakfast together like this.” I don’t want to beat around the bush with this. Truthfully, I am pissed off at him, too.

Our waitress drops off the water glass and says, “I’ll be back in a few to take your order.”

When she is out of earshot, Bradley leans across the table. “Look, before you lay into me, I’m sorry about what happened at the playoff party. I shouldn’t have punched Tristan like that. There was probably a better way to handle that behind closed doors. I didn’t need to make a spectacle.”

I slowly nod. Tears are forming but I fight them back with all my might. I’ve cried enough these past few days. I feel like I’m going to run out of tears and not be able to cry again. I am turning into Cameron Diaz’s character inThe Holidayat this point.

“But, you have to understand, B, I was just so pissed off at the whole situation. The fact that he made a bet that included you. The fact that you both were lying to me about dating each other. The fact that you were sleeping with my best friend.”

I cross my arms. “Would you have reacted any differently if I went up to you before the playoff party, and said I was dating your best friend?”

Bradley’s hand tenses up and I can tell he is getting uncomfortable. “Probably not.”

“See, that’s exactly why I didn’t want to say anything until we were ready, Brad. You would have made a spectacle either way. I was also terrified about the mere possibility that Tristan and I being together would alter your friendship with him in any way. I know how much he means to you.”

“B, you’re my sister. You mean more to me than anyone. Well, I guess besides Jen. Yeah, Tristan is my boy, but you’re my OG, sis.”

The waitress appears again. “Are y’all ready to order?”

I shake my head, so Bradley says, “Is it okay if I get your attention when we’re ready? I’m so sorry, we still haven’t even looked at the menu.”

“Sure, take your time.” She graciously leaves us to sit in this super awkward – and in my opinion, unnecessary – conversation.

Then Bradley utters the words that I am dreading:

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