Page 38 of The Beginning and End of Everything
With a smirk, he sprawled out on his back. "Why are you friends with that ginger bitch? You know they have no souls and eat babies and shit."
"Brandon O'Kieffe, you know you're a cunt!" Hope chucked a hairbrush at him, and he gave a drunken salute.
"That I am."
His jaw was red and swollen. Knuckles bloody. With a sigh, I scooted off the bed and crouched beside him, softly gripping his chin to survey the damage. "What were you doing?"
"Well, I was drinking my whiskey."
"Standard." Hope snickered, and Brandon attempted a glare.
"And then I thought: I should share with my possum. Sharing is caring." He brandished the whiskey bottle. When he waved it around, the hem of his shirt inched up his stomach. On instinct, my gaze went to the deep-cutVthat dipped below the waist of his jeans. I swallowed before tugging it down.
"He wouldn’t use the door,” Connor’s voice came from the open doorway. “I tried.”
Laughing, Brandon guzzled back a few shots worth of whiskey. I snatched away the bottle when amber liquid began to trickle from the corners of his lips. There was no way he could go to a party. He’d either end up in another fight or with alcohol poisoning. Or both.
When Brandon got to this state, he was trying to forget. And trying to forget was a dangerous place to be.
"You two go ahead,” I said, brushing a hand over Brandon’s jaw. “We'll catch up with you."
Connor rubbed over the back of his neck, his gaze drifting from me to Brandon and back. "We can wait."
"Nope." Hope linked her arm through Connor's. "I'm not waiting around on that drunk twat. Come on, Milkybar, let's get there before all the wine coolers are gone."
"Stop calling me that, would you? I haven't had a damn Milkybar in two years."
Hope grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks. "But it'ssocute."
With a roll of his eyes, Connor flashed me a pleading look while she dragged him from the room.
Seconds later, the front door shut, and I managed to sit Brandon up, inspecting his scrapes and bruises again. "How bad this time?"
"Well, I managed to duck. And then—” A lazy, drunk smile crossed his face. "I knocked his arse clean out."
"You knocked your dad out. Again?” I sighed. “Brandon.”
He reached for the bottle still in my hand, and I yanked it away. "It's fine, poss." His eyelids lulled shut, but he pulled himself up enough to rest his head in my lap. "It's fine," he said again, moving my hand to his head and forcing my fingers through his thick hair while he fiddled with the hem of my short skirt. His warm skin brushed my mine, the touch creating a pull between my legs only he could.
“I know I'm not good enough for you.” He took an uneven breath. “But…”
He was drunk, and when Brandon was drunk, he said all kinds of things. But this…what I thought it might mean that he wanted more—I wanted so badly to believe it did. “Brandon, what are you talking about?”
Seconds passed before his fingers brushed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His jade green eyes touched every inch of my face, as though he were committing me to memory, then his rough fingers trailed my cheekbone, and he smiled. "I love you, possum."
His gaze fixed on my lips, and the air seemed to still. Each heavy beat of my heart counted down the seconds. The pull that danced between us, I wanted it. God, I so desperately wanted to know what his lips would feel like on mine, even if it were just one time. Then his eyes closed and his fingers tightened into fists. "Don't worry…” His chest fell into a heavy rhythm. “Con’s good enough."
That night I realized just how hopelessly in love I was with Brandon. I told myself that I would rather be the girl he leaned on than the girl who ended up with him between her legs; I would rather keep his respect than lose it. Still, had Brandon let me, I would havelovedhim and given him every piece of my heart to destroy.
But instead, I was just his possum. Always and forever.
20
Brandon
I’d spent days trying to find out what bellend Poppy had a date with, but it was none of the guys at our school. Or at the townie school.
Then I realized—girls usually set their friends up with their boyfriend’s friends, and Hope was dating Suzie’s brother, Silas. Which was why I paid Slutty Suzie twenty quid to nick her brother’s phone. And it was worth it. Low and behold, some guy called Liam was going on a date with Poppy tonight at the local Sprinkles.
