Page 38
Story: Code Name: Michelangelo
BUTTERFLY
What I’d just done and said was completely unfair. I didn’t doubt my desire for Brand was equal to his for me. I wasn’t ready to give in on the friendship agreement quite yet, though. It had only been two days.
I’d been attracted to, crazy about, in lust with Brand Ripa since the day I met him eleven years ago. A lot of life had happened in that span of time for both of us. While part of me wanted to say “fuck it” and crawl in bed with him tonight, the smarter part of me knew the ramifications of a relationship between us not working out.
I’d see him. Probably for the rest of my life. At least once a year, most likely. I could hardly ask Tara to pick between her newfound and much-adored brother and one of her best friends. It would be an impossible choice.
What if he found someone else to spend his life with? I’d be subjected to seeing my unrequited love on display, ripping my heart to shreds whenever we were in the same place at the same time.
I’d say our families were close, but that was mostly due to Kade and Merrigan, who seemed friendly with my mom and dad—albeit separately since they hadn’t been together since I was a toddler.
Brand worked for them—it was a condition of his parole—as did Aine’s husband. Ava’s husband was Kade’s business partner, and in addition to being Kade’s daughter’s husband, Mercer was also a founding partner of their firm. Tara’s husband had worked for them full-time at one point, but now only did contract work.
That left me. Other than my four friends, I had no connection to the Butlers.
Again, I might be invited to gatherings. Me, who would remain unmarried and childless, in a sea of blissfully wed couples with gorgeous offspring. Brand and his future wife included.
I couldn’t risk it. I had to know without any doubt that he truly meant it when I’d asked what he saw as the outcome of a relationship between us and he responded, “Simple. You. Me. Together. Forever.”
If only I could trust in that. Stake my life on it.
I hadn’t personally witnessed many marriages that lasted more than a few years. Sure, those of my four closest friends might last forever, but none of them had even reached the five-year mark. Among our collective parents, no one was on their first marriage, not even Kade. He’d divorced Quinn’s mother years ago.
I could look to my grandparents’ relationships, but I hadn’t had enough time with any of them to be able to ask the questions an adult woman would. Like, how they’d managed it in a world where so few did.
“I would say if you toss the linguine and sauce much longer, it might turn to mush,” said Tara, standing beside me.
“Right. Sorry. Lost in thought.”
“Obviously, and give that to me.”
I handed her the bowl and watched as she slid it into the warmer, then put the garlic bread I’d completely forgotten about in the oven.
“Ten minutes, and dinner will be served,” she said in a raised voice. “Knox, be a darling and open some more wine, would you?”
She froze, and her eyes met mine. “Oh my God. I’m my mother.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You are not your mother. The words you spoke just sounded like her.”
She opened the drawer and pulled out a wooden spoon with a long handle. “If I do it again, smack me with this. Hard.”
I took it from her grasp and put it back in the drawer.
“So, what’s up with you and Brand?” she asked.
“It’s complicated.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “No shit. Brand is complicated, and you’re, well, intricately perplexing.”
“Excellent vocab, Tara, and thanks a bunch.”
“As if any of us are any different.” She motioned to Quinn, Ava, and Aine, who were talking amongst themselves. “So, back to Brand.”
“He’s staying here.”
She raised a brow.
“On the fifth floor.”
What I’d just done and said was completely unfair. I didn’t doubt my desire for Brand was equal to his for me. I wasn’t ready to give in on the friendship agreement quite yet, though. It had only been two days.
I’d been attracted to, crazy about, in lust with Brand Ripa since the day I met him eleven years ago. A lot of life had happened in that span of time for both of us. While part of me wanted to say “fuck it” and crawl in bed with him tonight, the smarter part of me knew the ramifications of a relationship between us not working out.
I’d see him. Probably for the rest of my life. At least once a year, most likely. I could hardly ask Tara to pick between her newfound and much-adored brother and one of her best friends. It would be an impossible choice.
What if he found someone else to spend his life with? I’d be subjected to seeing my unrequited love on display, ripping my heart to shreds whenever we were in the same place at the same time.
I’d say our families were close, but that was mostly due to Kade and Merrigan, who seemed friendly with my mom and dad—albeit separately since they hadn’t been together since I was a toddler.
Brand worked for them—it was a condition of his parole—as did Aine’s husband. Ava’s husband was Kade’s business partner, and in addition to being Kade’s daughter’s husband, Mercer was also a founding partner of their firm. Tara’s husband had worked for them full-time at one point, but now only did contract work.
That left me. Other than my four friends, I had no connection to the Butlers.
Again, I might be invited to gatherings. Me, who would remain unmarried and childless, in a sea of blissfully wed couples with gorgeous offspring. Brand and his future wife included.
I couldn’t risk it. I had to know without any doubt that he truly meant it when I’d asked what he saw as the outcome of a relationship between us and he responded, “Simple. You. Me. Together. Forever.”
If only I could trust in that. Stake my life on it.
I hadn’t personally witnessed many marriages that lasted more than a few years. Sure, those of my four closest friends might last forever, but none of them had even reached the five-year mark. Among our collective parents, no one was on their first marriage, not even Kade. He’d divorced Quinn’s mother years ago.
I could look to my grandparents’ relationships, but I hadn’t had enough time with any of them to be able to ask the questions an adult woman would. Like, how they’d managed it in a world where so few did.
“I would say if you toss the linguine and sauce much longer, it might turn to mush,” said Tara, standing beside me.
“Right. Sorry. Lost in thought.”
“Obviously, and give that to me.”
I handed her the bowl and watched as she slid it into the warmer, then put the garlic bread I’d completely forgotten about in the oven.
“Ten minutes, and dinner will be served,” she said in a raised voice. “Knox, be a darling and open some more wine, would you?”
She froze, and her eyes met mine. “Oh my God. I’m my mother.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You are not your mother. The words you spoke just sounded like her.”
She opened the drawer and pulled out a wooden spoon with a long handle. “If I do it again, smack me with this. Hard.”
I took it from her grasp and put it back in the drawer.
“So, what’s up with you and Brand?” she asked.
“It’s complicated.”
Tara rolled her eyes. “No shit. Brand is complicated, and you’re, well, intricately perplexing.”
“Excellent vocab, Tara, and thanks a bunch.”
“As if any of us are any different.” She motioned to Quinn, Ava, and Aine, who were talking amongst themselves. “So, back to Brand.”
“He’s staying here.”
She raised a brow.
“On the fifth floor.”
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