Page 134 of When the Storm Breaks
“Wow. That was … really… that’s really smart, Dean. I’m so proud of you.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m trying. I always said I didn’t want to end up like my Pops…”
“You’re not him. You’re nothing like him.”
He snorted. “That’s bullshit and you of all people know that’s not true. I put you through hell. And I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. We were so young and stupid.”
He grinned, the dimples in his cheeks making an appearance. “We had some fun times though. We lived like fucking rock stars.”
I laughed. “Yeah, we did.”
He lit a cigarette and we sat in silence for a while, our eyes on the ocean as the last of the sun dipped into it. Before I left, he told me he was going solo and I was happy for him. Happy that he hadn’t given up on the music. It had always been his salvation. I played Hayley’s recording for him and he listened to her singing “Here Comes the Sun'' at least ten times. I hoped Dean would stay clean and sober and that he’d find someone who made him happy in a way that I never had. We were different people now. Life changed us. And even though a part of me would always love him, my feelings for Dean didn’t even come close to the way I loved Brody. The way IloveBrody.
My life was so much emptier without him in it.
Chapter Forty-Two
Brody
Ridge slammedthe refrigerator shut as I hobbled into the kitchen and filled a glass of water from the tap. He grabbed a green apple from the bowl on the counter and sat at the island, texting with one hand, eating an apple with the other, and somehow managing to keep one eye trained on me.
“What’d you do to your leg?” he asked.
“Nothing.” I guzzled the water and refilled the glass then leaned against the counter to drink it. My hair was matted down with sweat, my T-shirt and jeans were covered in dirt, and I was weary to the bone.
“Why are you limping?”
“I’m not limping.”
Ridge snorted. “Yeah, okay, whatever you say. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?”
“Not telling me anything I don’t know.”
He set his phone on the counter and stared at me for a minute. Had to admit my brother was a good looking bastard. In the evening sun, his eyes looked bluer, his skin bronzed and his longish brown hair streaked with blond. Tomorrow was his high school graduation and in a few months he’d be off to college. The thought of that made me sad. Happy for him, of course, but this house would be so much emptier when he was gone.
“It’s been three months,” he said finally. “You should call her. You’re miserable without her.”
“I’m just fine. Don’t worry about me,” I said gruffly, rubbing my hand over my chest. I couldn’t decide what hurt more right now. My damn leg or my heart. My heart. Definitely my heart. It still hurt like a motherfucker any time I thought about her. Which was all the damn time. “I’ve moved on.”
He laughed like that was a joke. “Yeah, sure you have. By the way, my English teacher said hi. She got engaged.”
“Good for her.” My ‘relationship’ with Chloe Whitman, if you could even call it that, felt like a million years ago. I hadn’t seen her since that meeting about Ridge last year and could barely remember what she looked like.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
I shrugged one shoulder. What did it matter?
“Walker and some of the guys are coming over before the party at the lake. We’re gonna order pizza. You in?”
“Sure.”
“Pepperoni?”
“Whatever.”
He shook his head and sighed. “You need to—”
