Sweet Heat (10 page)

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Authors: Elena Brown

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Women's Fiction

BOOK: Sweet Heat
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She sent up a short prayer to her grandmother, asking for her help.

She needed to attempt to explain the situation, and apologize for the terrible way she’d handled it. She could only hope Brandon would give her the chance.

Tension

 

Brandon’s phone chimed again from its place on the coffee table. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists on his thighs, resisting the urge to pick it up and see whether it was another text, or a voicemail this time.

From the couch beside him, he caught Pete’s narrow-eyed glance at his phone, but kept his attention on the TV.

Suzanne had been trying to get in touch with him since he’d left her apartment on Friday night. He knew she wanted to explain, and he should give her a chance… but the depth and severity of his hurt when he realized Suzanne hadn’t been truthful with him about seeing another man had surprised him.

“You gonna answer that?” Pete nodded at the cell, which was vibrating, indicating he had a voicemail.

He shook his head without meeting his friend’s eyes.

Brandon knew that he was overreacting a little. He owed it to Suzanne to at least give her the chance to clear up the situation, and not just take her mother’s word for it. But he couldn’t help that the second he’d realized Suzanne had been texting him, flirting with him, while on a date with another guy, he’d immediately recalled what it had felt like when he’d discovered that Hillary had been cheating on him… with his best friend.

The situations weren’t the same. Intellectually, he knew that. He and Suzanne had only been on a couple of dates. They were hardly exclusive.

But that didn’t change the fact that when her mother had said she was seeing that Antoine guy, he’d felt cut deep. He still did. So he wasn’t answering her calls. Or texts.

It was kind of a dick move to completely ignore her for two days, though.

With a sigh, he plucked the cell up and headed into the kitchen, ignoring the scowl Pete shot his way. When he’d put a little distance between him and his friend, he dialed Suzanne.

She picked up halfway through the second ring. “Thank you for calling me back.” Her husky voice was soft, much meeker than he was used to. The same way it had been when she’d been talking to her parents.

He’d been taken by surprise, and a little embarrassed to be shirtless, when he’d come down the stairs and realized the two people standing in her hallway were her parents. When he’d first started dating Hillary, the whole ‘official’ meeting of the parents had terrified him. But he’d actually felt a little charge to be standing beside Suzanne and meeting her folks.

Until he’d realized that Suzanne was beyond uncomfortable, acting as if they’d been ‘caught’. Her timid behavior had been nothing like the confident, sexy woman he’d been getting to know. Then, her parent’s obvious disapproval had only made the situation even more awkward.

“I’m only calling to ask you to please stop.” The words were harder to get out than he’d thought. They scraped his throat painfully.

On the other end of the line, Suzanne sucked in a breath. “Bran, please. Let me explain.”

Brandon leaned back against his kitchen counter. He sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. He kept his voice low as he responded.

“I will,” he assured her. “Just… not yet. I got ambushed. I know that wasn’t your fault, but that’s what happened. You need to give me time to process.”

“Is that the nice way of saying you’re trying to determine my fate? Because if so, I’d really like the opportunity to plead my case. Enter a few items into evidence. Maybe even bribe the judge.” She chuckled a bit, but the sound was forced and weak.

His lips curved a little and his chest felt tight. “It’s my way of saying I need a few days. But we will talk. I promise.”

“Okay, Bran. I…” She stopped herself from saying whatever it is she’d been planning on saying. Perhaps more pleas or a defense. She blew out a breath. “Okay. A few days. But I’m not giving up. Fair warning.”

Brandon’s smile grew a little at the determination in her tone. “Good. I don’t want you to.” He sensed that she was about to say something else and thought it was probably best to end the conversation on that note. “Bye, Suzanne.”

She caught his tone and, after a second of weighted silence, said, “Goodbye, Brandon.”

When he flopped into his seat back on the couch, Pete sniffed and tilted his chin at the phone Brandon slid into his jeans pocket.

“That the cheating bitch?”

Brandon winced. He’d almost instantly regretted telling Pete about what had happened at Suzanne’s, but the guy had shown up on his doorstep with a six-pack and he’d needed to talk.

“How ‘bout we don’t talk about this?” He lifted the beer to his lips and turned his attention back to the TV.

His friend didn’t let it go, though. He snorted. “Are you kidding me? She
lied
to you, man. And those parents of hers sound like a total nightmare.
Trust
me; you don’t want to get involved with a chick whose parents hate you.” Pete took a long swig of his beer, his jaw clenching. “Even if a chick isn’t a total bitch, if her parents don’t like you? Psshht. They’ll poison her against you every chance they get. Twist everything you say and do. Make her fuckin’ hate you.”

Brandon shifted, wincing as the sharp edge of Pete’s voice almost cut him. His friend drained his beer and reached for another one.

“You ask me, you’re better off, man.”

“Pete, seriously. Let it go.”

He knew his friend was still messed up over his divorce. And the situation with his ex had been screwed up. Her parents disapproval had only added to their problems.

Brandon couldn’t deny that Mr. and Mrs. Headley’s obvious displeasure at finding him in their daughter’s apartment had sucked. But they didn’t hate him. They didn’t even know him.

And, honestly, he didn’t know the whole situation. There might be more going on between Suzanne and her parents, things that affected their actions toward him. He wasn’t about to jump to conclusions.

Of course, Pete didn’t let it go. His voice slurred as he continued.

“Who needs ‘em, anyway, right? ‘Honey, do this’, ‘Honey, you forgot that’. Bullshit. And they say you’re the most important person in their lives and they love you and blah blah blah. Like your bitch. Telling you she’s bored and lonely at a party, making you feel all bad for her, and she’s there with
another dude
. Not telling her parents your her fucking man when you’re standing
right there
.” Pete flapped his hand, striking Brandon’s shoulder.

“Pete, man —”

“Lies! They’re all liars. Every single one. Can’t trust any of ‘em. But we still take ‘em out to dinner and buy ‘em shit. It’s a whole lotta hassle just to get off. I swear, I’m gonna stick to pros from now on. At least you know they’re lying, and if you shell out the dough you’re gonna get what you’re after. Am I right?” Pete guffawed and punched Brandon in the shoulder.

Brandon shoved him off, not all that gently. “Dude, you’re drunk and you’re talking a whole lot of shit. You need to shut the hell up. You’re gonna feel like an ass when you sober up and remember you said any of this, let alone about my girl.”

Pete slumped, blinking his eyes. “You so sure she’s your girl, Flem?”

The barb stung, but Brandon just shrugged. Truthfully, Pete going off on Suzanne and women in general because of what his ex had done to him, made him wonder if his own anger was just as irrational.

“Yeah, I am. And I may be pissed at her right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to your bitter bullshit. I know you’re still messed up over Lucia, and what happened with her was fucked, but you gotta knock it off, man. It’s getting really hard to be around you when all you talk about is ‘lying bitches’.”

Brandon felt like an ass as he watched Pete’s face fall at the mention of his ex-wife, but he wasn’t sorry he’d said what he said. His friend needed to hear it. He’d changed a lot since his divorce, and all the guys had noticed.

Pete set his half-finished beer down and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “Maybe I better go then.”

“Shut up and sit down, Pete. Finish watching the game with me. Just… knock it off with all the ‘I hate women’ stuff, okay?”

His friend swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his skinny throat. He gave a nod, his face still pale, and sat gingerly back down. They both turned back to the TV, where the Jets were once again getting their asses handed to them.

The silence between them was strained. Brandon barely muttered an, “Are you kidding me?” as one of the players fumbled the ball.

After several minutes of awkwardness, Pete spoke again. His face was drawn, and his voice was low and pained. “I really fucking loved her, Flem. And she left like I was nothing to her. I just figured, after everything Hillary did to you, you’d understand.”

Brandon sighed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I know. And I do. But you can’t let it eat you the fuck up. We gotta move on, you know? That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Even though it was hard. He couldn’t completely forget his past. And while he didn’t agree with Pete’s assertion that all women were liars, he too found it difficult to fully trust Suzanne after what had happened with Hillary.

The fact that she hadn’t been totally upfront with him was the reason he was so hesitant to talk to her now.

Beside him, Pete sighed. “I guess.”

They both lapsed into silence, drinking beer and watching football. Finally, Pete scoffed. “Can you believe that asshole ref?”

And just like that, the tension broke and they both went back to bitching about their team’s crap offensive line.

 

***

 

Suzanne smiled and tried to pay attention to what Clara was saying, but her boss’s voice was just background noise in her brain. She barely managed a nod before the older woman exited the office.

It had been three days since she’d talked to Brandon, and he’d asked her to stop calling and texting. She had, but that hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him almost constantly.

Part of her wished she had a time machine, like the Doctor on Brandon’s favorite show, and she could go back to Friday night and handle the whole situation differently. She still didn’t know how to deal with her parents and their expectations of her, but she could have at least told Brandon up front about Antoine and made it clear there was nothing going on between them.

A small flicker of hope still burned in her chest though, when she thought about how he’d said he didn’t want her to give up. That had to mean something, right?

She couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing it had felt to come home and know he was there. And he was so thoughtful. Every night when she went to bed, she looked at the painting he’d given her, the view of the Highline.

Unlike other guys she’d dated, he’d been willing to work around her sometimes insane schedule, and hadn’t seemed to mind her dedication to work. He was the same about his job.

Her mother had said they were too different, but she was wrong. Sure, they may have grown up differently, but their personalities blended well.

The ringing of her phone made her heart leap into her throat. That happened every time since they’d hung up. Would this be the time she picked up and heard Brandon’s voice? Was he finally ready to talk?

“Hello?”

“Darling, you sound breathless. Is everything alright?”

Suzanne’s shoulders slumped at the sound of her mother’s concerned voice. “I’m fine, Mother.”

On the other end of the line, her Monique Headley tsked softly. “Are you still upset with me over what I said to that boy at your apartment on Friday?”

She’d barely spoken to her mother since then, unable to think of the proper words to express how she felt to the woman who had managed so much of her life. “His name is Brandon, Mother. And he’s not a boy. He’s…”

Her voice faded, because she didn’t know what to say. ‘He’s my boyfriend’? Even if that had been true before Friday, she wasn’t sure it was now. And anyway, the word seemed somehow unable to encompass the connection she felt to the handsome fireman.

“He’s not for you, is what he is, darling.”

“Why?” The question popped out of her mouth without her permission, and her heart kicked against her ribs. She didn’t want to have this conversation with her mother again.

Monique sighed. “Suzanne,
sweetheart
. I can see how he holds some appeal. He’s a very attractive young man. But there’s a lot more to a strong, lasting relationship than good looks. Some… beefcake… may be fun for a few weeks, but you need to be thinking of the future. And your future is a man like Antoine. Accomplished, smart, hardworking. He’s your match in every way. And he’s not hard on the eyes, either.”

Suzanne stared up at the ceiling, tears stinging her eyes, fighting the urge to just scream wordlessly.

“Antoine thinks I’m fat.” Again, she spoke without thinking, blurting the words at her mother.

“What?” The affront in her mother’s tone on her behalf was at least a little gratifying. “Did he say something to you?”

“Not in so many words. But he did that thing where he asked if I was sure about my food order.” It was a common enough occurrence when she went out to dinner with acquaintances that she knew she didn’t need to elaborate to her mother.

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