“That’s because he doesn’t know the whole story.” Saxon looked up at me from under long, long eyelashes.
“What are you talking about?” I narrowed my eyes at what I felt in my bones was going to be a colossally bad idea.
“I’m going to make a story that works.” He shrugged like it was the easiest, most obvious idea in the world.
“What do you mean ‘works’?” Real dread poured over me.
“The truth is so fucking lame it’s not even worth telling. I’m going to figure something out that will make Jake blame me.”
“How many times do you think that will actually work, Saxon? Jake’s not an idiot.”
“When it comes to you, that’s exactly what he is.” He put a hand on my knee and ran it up to my inner thigh. I smacked at him and he did it again. “You’re so easy to piss off.”
“Only when I’m around you,” I snapped. “I told you we’d bring out the worst in each other.”
“Speak for yourself.” He drummed his fingers on my knee. “This is the best behaved I’ve been in a long time.”
“Are you kidding me?” I snorted. “You’ve been a complete jerkoff.”
He frowned. “Blix, there were several times I was pretty much a gentleman.”
“Really? Like when?”
“Like when you were in my room the other night, and I could have gotten you all hot and wet, but I didn’t,” he said, and he was only half joking. “I could have pressed the issue, and I bet you and I would have had a lot more fun than we wound up having.”
“Nothing with you has been fun.” I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sadness, because that was the truth. When I had been unobtainable, he had been enticing but nerve-wracking. And once I fell into his arms, he was high maintenance and unpredictable. I just thought the whole thing had so much more promise for…I don’t really know what I expected.
Maybe it was like when people heard I had lived in Denmark for a year. They just couldn’t help but imagine this sophisticated European experience, when in reality it was just fifteen lonely months on an old chicken farm. Not that it hadn’t had its moments, but it wasn’t all baguettes and berets.
Was I getting my European metaphors mixed up?
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, like he knew I was thinking something uncharitable about him.
“I was just thinking that I thought it would be more fun. Between us.”
He smiled a little. “If it had worked out, would you have been thinking about Jake so much?”
I took a few deep breaths and tried to phrase it correctly. Then I just gave up and said what I felt, no matter how husslike it made me look. “I don’t know. I didn’t really anticipate a certain outcome. I just needed to do it, so I would know. And now I do.”
“Know part of it,” Saxon corrected.
“I gave it a fair chance,” I argued.
“You pined for Jake.” Saxon rolled on his elbow and looked at me. “I don’t think you realize how much you like him, Brenna. I think it’s ridiculous and irritating, especially considering what you could have right here, but I’m not judging.”
“Listen, it doesn’t matter what I think or want. Jake isn’t going to go along with this or any other stupid scheme you come up with, so drop it.” I pulled my knees up under my chin and held my legs tight to my chest.
“Can’t.” Saxon flicked my foot. “If you won’t have me, then it’s my mission to throw you into the arms of my half-brother. I like to keep it in the family.”
I ignored the more obvious attempt to aggravate me. “Why don’t you tell him that you’re brothers?”
“Why don’t you beat a dead horse? You’re good at that.” His tone was clipped again. “Drop it, Bren.”
“Take your own advice, Saxon.” I poked him with my toe. “Let me figure it out myself, okay? Thanks anyway.”
“Fine.” He smiled so wide his teeth gleamed.
Saxon finally got up and left the room, which felt much bigger without his overwhelming presence. It would be the last time we were together in this little semi-permanent room of mine. I snapped a few pictures, to help remember. And possibly, maybe, to help tell Jake the whole story. Someday. It was weird to think about going back to the States, where life was going to be basically the same as when we left. Oh, except that I no longer had my adoring/adorable boyfriend.
I thought about him on the plane ride, and it seemed like every mile we got closer to home, I wanted him more and regretted what I had done. More and more, Saxon’s idiotic idea seemed like it could work.
There was just one problem, and it weighed on me just as much as the initial problem of my attraction to Saxon; why had I ever even considered leaving Jake?
He was perfect in so many ways. Jake was kind and attentive. He believed in me and respected me. I was totally physically attracted to him. Sure, Mom didn’t approve, but she was basically fanatical when it came to anything that had to do with me. I couldn’t imagine a single guy who would meet her criteria. So what had happened? How had I been begging Jake to stay overnight and two days later been pressing myself against Saxon? My head started to pound.
I thought back to all the times Jake made me cringe a little, and I was filled with deep, relentless guilt. I hated that he couldn’t read and understand things quickly. I hadn’t even considered emailing him while I was gone, because I knew it would be agony for him to write back. And I hated the culture he had grown up in, the girls who had liked him and the things he had done with them, too young and too much.
What was weird is that I didn’t hate Saxon as much for it. Maybe because Saxon wore it like an ironic badge? Maybe because it wasn’t really Saxon’s birthright.? Saxon was a professor’s son, smart and athletic and socially something closer to me.
My face burned red just thinking what I was thinking. Jake was the best. Better than I deserved.
I could insist that was true all I wanted. The truth was, I had a superiority complex when it came to Jake. That was a seriously bad thing in a relationship.
And then it dawned on me that maybe our breaking up was right. If I couldn’t respect Jake one hundred percent for who he was, maybe I was never the right person to be with him.
My chest felt like it was being crushed by a vice, and I had to squeeze my eyes shut really tight because I didn’t want to cry in front of my mom, even if she was zonked out. Mom had a weird knack for knowing any time I was upset, and I was miserable at hiding it from her. I hadn’t had to sit with Saxon on the ride back. Lylee had been annoying enough that even my polite mother was able to brush her off completely. Anyway, Mom’s anti-jetlag plan involved an eye cover, ear plugs and total sleep on the plane. I couldn’t imagine that Lylee would have paid any attention to Mom’s desire to sleep. The Macleans were as annoying as they were charming.
The plane landed late, and there was Thorsten, a big smile on his face and his arms held out. Mom and I hugged him.
“We missed you, Fa,” I said, using my particular pet name for him.
“I missed you girls. A man only needs so much underwear time. I’m ready to put some clothes on and have my ladies back!”
Mom tucked herself into the crook of Thorsten’s shoulder and nuzzled against him. My heart bucked. Just then I felt a familiar presence. Thorsten and Mom were gathering our luggage on a cart to leave.
“It’ll work out, Blix,” Saxon whispered in my ear. “I’m on it.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
He took my hand and kissed it softly. “I know I’m kind of a dick, but I really like you.” His black eyes glowed gold. “It puts a halt to my natural assholishness and makes me a sometimes nice guy.”
I put a hand to his cheek and brushed the soft skin with my thumb. “So you’re saying you’re half the ass you usually are just for my benefit?”