“I realized I liked boobs a little before that,” Prior said, completely serious, even though his eyes were dancing.
“Why did you quit track?”
“Because I got bored for real. I run now because Nate drags me out, but I’d rather do anything but running to work out.”
I raised a brow at him and gave him a pointed look. He coughed into his hand, and I swore he was blushing.
“Well, that is my favorite form of workout, but I was talking about sports. You know us Bradys, we constantly want to play something, and that’s how I get my workout in. But running a long-distance or even in a circle? I get bored. Nate was damn good at it, so I let him have it.”
“And you didn’t want to lose to your baby brother?” I asked, teasing.
He shook his head. “No, that probably would have annoyed me eventually because he was that good. Macon and Cross were already better at sports than I was, though, so I was probably used to it by then.”
“Got to love sibling rivalry.” I said it lightly, but my chest ached at the thought. I must have let something slip on my face because Prior gave me a weird look.
“What’s wrong? What did I say?”
“You didn’t say anything.” I let out a breath. “I was just thinking of siblings. I used to have a sister, which is a bizarre way to put it. I had a sister. I still have her. Though she’s no longer here.”
Why couldn’t I say the word dead? I should be able to do that. It had been long enough. I’d even said the word before when it came to her.
“Paris,” Prior whispered, pulling me out of my thoughts. He reached across the table and slid his fingers through mine, rubbing his thumb over the space between my thumb and my forefinger. I looked down at our clasped hands and let out a breath.
The two of us were very good at not putting labels on our relationship, but this wasn’t a first date, it wasn’t even our second. And Prior was a friend.
He had seen me at my worst, when I had been bleeding and in pain and calling out for help.
Maybe he deserved to see some of my nightmares.
Because if tonight was the night that he slept over for the full night, then he might see a nightmare in truth.
We’d only slept together that first time, our other dates ending either with our group of friends, or us going our separate ways after some heavy petting. Neither of us had ventured into the next step of what our relationship could be. Even if using the word relationship was kind of scary.
Tonight, though…tonight I wanted to tell him. And then we would see where things ended up.
“How about we get the check, and you take me home, and we can talk?”
“Anything you want, I’m here. I promise.” He gave my hand a squeeze before looking over my shoulder where the waiter presumably was. He smiled, did some gesturing thing, and soon, the check was there, and we were ready to go.
We were quiet in the car, and I felt like I had possibly ruined the mood, but I wanted to tell him. I hated that I had this secret that didn’t need to be something between us.
We got into the house, and I went straight to my kitchen, contemplating hard liquor or coffee. I settled that argument by pulling out Baileys and starting the coffee maker.
Prior stood by my side for a moment before helping me with the coffee, neither of us having to say a word. He had made coffee in my home before, and I had made coffee in his, and it felt like this was another step.
How had this happened so quickly?
Or maybe it wasn’t quick at all.
After all, it had been months since I had first realized my attraction to him, and over a month of us being together as we were now.
Maybe this wasn’t as quick as my mind wanted it to be.
We settled on the couch, two coffees with Irish cream in our hands, and I let the warmth seep into my hands, my body cold.
“We can watch a movie. You don’t have to say anything.”
“I think I do. Because I feel like I’m keeping something from you, and I don’t like that. I don’t like hiding.”
“You never hide. You’re always the exact Paris you want to be.”
I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Prior took a sip of his coffee, winced at the heat, then set it down on the coffee table.
“What I mean is that you are strength personified. You are brilliant, beautiful, and compassionate.”
My heart filled, and I had no idea where he was going with this. “I wasn’t asking for compliments, Prior.”
“I know. You never would. You do what you need to do to get things done. What I meant by being the person you need to be is that nobody needs to know every aspect of you at work. Many of those people will never be your friends. They’ll never be my friends. And we both understand that. It’s like how some people have work personas. Sometimes it changes who they are completely, but never with you. You are who you are, but you put out so much strength, that sometimes people can’t see beneath the layers. And I understand that. Especially with Benji around.”
“Don’t bring up his name in my house. I don’t want to even think about him.”
He hadn’t changed much since the last time he blew out of my office, but he also hadn’t outright accused me of anything recently either. I didn’t know if that was because I had threatened him, or if he waited to threaten me again. Perhaps he’d figured out that Prior and I were friends at least and didn’t want to upset a man he admired. I didn’t know, I didn’t really care, but I didn’t mind the reprieve either.
I let out a breath, needing to continue, but not sure how.
“You don’t have to say anything. We can just make out if you want.”
I burst out laughing, shaking my head. Then his lips were on mine, soft. I sank into him, needing his embrace.
The mug was still between us, so he pulled back, taking it from my hands and setting it on the table.
“Talk to me, Paris.”
“Her name was Tracey. She was so beautiful. We were both born blond, and my hair eventually darkened to what it is now. I don’t know what her hair would have turned into. I think it would have darkened like mine, but hers was always a little lighter than mine. Mine was a little more like corn silk. At least that’s what my grandma said once when we were little. Before she died, anyway.”
I could still remember my grandma saying that before she lit up her cigarette and walked away to go pour another glass of cheap whiskey.
Grandma had been nice, a drunk, but she never hit me.
Not like the others had.
“My parents were not good people. They drank. They did whatever drugs they felt like. I don’t know why they chose to become parents. In all honesty, even though my mom always said that we were planned because she wanted to have kids in her sober times, I didn’t believe it.”
“Paris.” Prior let out a breath. “No, I don’t want to interrupt. There’s nothing for me to say.”
“I’ve always heard the way you guys talk about your parents, how they’re not here now but were always there before. And they constantly visit.”
“You met them, right?”
I nodded. “When Macon and Cross were in the hospital. Yes. I didn’t get to talk to them, but I met them in passing. They love you so much.”