Page 85 of Brutal Sin

“Oh, no.” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not what I meant. I’m just trying to figure out which shitty moment you’re referringto.”

This time his laugh was audible. “I appreciate the honesty.”

“I’m not going to coddle you.” She approached, her steps still slow and cautious. “But I do think you need to add some water to your intake.” She reached out, her warm fingers brushing his to grip the bottle neck. “Let me takethis.”

She kept their hands fused, their eyes, too. “Please.” She tilted the scotch, inching it toward her chest. One hard tug had it slipping through his fingers, and she placed the bottle gently on the bar besidethem.

He could give up the liquor if he didn’t lose the heat of her. Denying himself both didn’t seemfair.

“Bryan…”

The whisper of his name brought pain. Nobody had ever spoken to him like that. Not without desire or need. She was selflessly here, dealing with his shit, and he couldn’t understandwhy.

“Why do you care?” He inched closer, his thigh brushing hers, the zing of atomic attraction washing away the fucked-up reasons that drove him to drink in the first place.

She didn’t retreat, only hitched her chin higher, refusing to look away. “You need water.”

“It doesn’t even rank in the top twenty things Ineed.”

“Really?” This time she stepped back, and he countered with an arm around her waist, keeping them close.

“Yeah. Really.”

She elbowed him, soft but blunt. “You’re looking for a distraction, which will only be temporary. You need to talk this out. If not to me, then your friends. Tell them about the cancer. Tell them about the funeral.”

“I didn’tgo.”

She balked, her lashes rapidly beating in a show of shock.

The seconds of silence were punishing. For once, he didn’t want her thinking he was a callous asshole. He didn’t enjoy the judgment staring back at him. He wanted to be better. To be worthy. “I didn’t know about it. They didn’t tellme.”

“They didn’t tell you when they were holding the funeral of your own mother?”

No. For the first time, someone in his family had heard his voice, even though his request had been a painful backlash. They always found his weak spot, no matter how he acted.

“They didn’t tell me she wasdead.”

Her expression fell, her throat churning over a heavy swallow. Breath by agonizing breath, her devastation reigniting his own. “When did you findout?”

“A few hours before youdid.”

Her gorgeous face bleached, all color and compassion. She turned away, gripped the counter, and released a long breath before sucking in another lungful ofair.

“Ella?” He placed the bottle beside her and ran his palm over her arm. “What’s going on? Why are you upset?”

“Why?” She slid farther along the bar. “I’m devastated for you. You don’t deserve this. They put you through enough already. I don’t understand…”

He became lost in her words and the tears now staining her cheeks. She was crying. Not because of something he’d done. Those tears seemed to be due to something shefelt.

Forhim.

She cared?

Abouthim?

“There’s no point crying a river, sweetheart. It’s not like I want to bring her back. My mother is exactly where she deserves tobe.”

“Oh, God.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t saythat.”

---