Page 30 of Brendan (The Doherty Mafia)
Sixteen
Brendan
I woke up the next morning in Rosalie’s bed.
I didn’t usually wake up in someone else’s bed. It wasn’t my thing.
But when I opened my eyes and saw that I had my arms around her perfect naked body, it felt uncharacteristically good. I had no explanation for it besides that I actually liked this girl.
I watched her sleeping for a while. How peaceful she looked with her shining golden blonde hair spread around her face like a halo. She had glorious alabaster skin that made me want to lick her.
I remembered that night now, or at least fragments of it.
I was drawn to her because she was different from every other chick I knew. She was funny and beautiful. She underestimated herself; didn’t see what other people saw. And I took her to bed that night hoping that I would be able to see her again. But I never did.
Rosalie sighed in her sleep now, then her eyes fluttered open.
I noticed how thick and dark her eyelashes were, how beautiful they made her eyes look. She woke up and saw me hovering over her.
Before she could say anything, I leaned in to kiss her.
I planned to ask her out on an actual date. I wanted to see where this thing would lead. Planning a future with a girl wasn’t something I was experienced in, but this was the first time I considered it seriously.
But Rosalie immediately pulled away from the kiss.
Confusion and irritation flashed in her blue eyes. She sat up in bed with a jerk like she’d forgotten I was still in her apartment.
I thought things had changed the previous night. I thought I’d been able to convince her to leave the past in the past. I hoped there would be a chance for us to pick up where we left off four years ago.
“You have to go.” Those were her first words to me that morning.
“What? I don’t even get a good morning?” I snarled.
That pissed me off. She played hot and cold, and there was no way for me to predict how she would react to me the next minute. I was done chasing her around.
“Please, Brendan, just go,” she insisted.
I was usually the one doing the kicking out. It didn’t feel good having the roles reversed on me.
I was about to tell her she would regret it when we heard voices outside the bedroom door.
“Rosalie?”
“Mommy?”
There were two more people in the apartment now and one of them was definitely Davey.
Rosalie had jumped out of bed as quick as a flash. She was completely naked so I watched from my position in the bed while she rushed around the room trying to dress herself.
“Shit. That’s Mom. She didn’t tell me she was going to drop Davey off this early!” She was muttering to herself. Completely ignoring the fact that I was still there.
I gave her some space. She’d thrown on a pair of black skin-tight leggings and a thick yellow sweater. The only thing I wanted to do was pull her back into bed and peel those clothes off her again.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
My voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked at me, a little alarmed.
“Nothing. Please. I don’t want you to do anything. That would be great.”
“Your son is eventually going to find out about me, Rosalie. Don’t you think it would make sense if you just came clean about me spending the night here?”
Her nostrils flared with anger. I noticed how she had clenched her hands into fists.
“Please don’t feel the need to lecture me on how I should parent my kid,” she snapped.
“I’m not telling you what to do.”
“There is no way you know what is best for my son. I’m his mother.”
“I’m not denying it.”
We heard more voices outside. It sounded like someone returned to the bedroom door. There was a sharp knock and then a woman’s voice.
“Rosa, honey? You up? I’m going to have to go to work.”
“Just a minute, Mom. Can you give Davey some cereal and I’ll be out in five minutes,” Rosalie shouted.
Then she turned to face me again.
I decided not to say anything more. She had clearly made up her mind about me, and nothing I said that involved her son, would convince her to think differently.
“I don’t expect you or any man to be able to give my son what he needs,” she continued.
My eyes narrowed. I wasn’t sure exactly what she was talking about. I wasn’t following her train of thought anymore. This had clearly suddenly gotten personal to her.
“And the last thing I want for Davey, is to be disappointed by you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I growled.
She weaved her fingers through her tousled hair in a last-ditch attempt to smoothen her bedhead. It kinda worked. It masked the fact that we had sex the previous night.
