“You’re right.”
Holding his hand out, as if saying “thank you” for agreeing with him.
“You do and say things without thinking it through, but it doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“How can you say or believe that, Ivy? How can you even sit here with me right now? I don’t even get it.”
“Brix, tell me why. Why did you treat me the way you did?”
“I told you…” he starts, but I cut him off.
“No, I don’t want to hear some bullshit response about you being a piece of shit or calling yourself a prick. Tell me the truth. Why did you treat me that way?”
“You want to know the honest to God truth?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Do you remember the day I saw you in the hallway outside Principal Taylor’s office?”
My eyes narrow, not remembering what he’s talking about. He picks up on my confusion and continues, filling in the blanks.
“I had stormed out of his office. I was upset, shoving shit from my locker into my bag, ready to leave school, when you approached me. You didn’t have a clue what you had walked into, but you stopped anyway and asked if I was okay.”
The dots start to connect. He had been swearing under his breath, tears filling his eyes when I stopped him and asked if he was alright.
“My parents had separated three months before. My mom, who always had a problem with drinking, started to get worse when my father filed for divorce. He said it was for ‘irreconcilable differences,’ but what he really meant was my mom is a drunk, and he had turned to getting his rocks off with his assistant.”
“Oh, God.” I cover my mouth.
I knew Brix was pissed at his dad for getting married again after his comment about getting a prenup. Of course, he would want his parents to be together, but his anger makes more sense now.
He looks down, his arm sitting on top of my knee with his hand clenched around the bottom of the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry, Ivy, I don’t think it’s going to last with them either. This is who he is. He gets bored in one relationship and finds his way onto the next one. He couldn’t be monogamous to save his life.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes as it turns from a laugh to a growl, clearly annoyed talking about it.
“Anyway, the day outside the principal’s office, you saw me walking out. I was pissed off to the point I was damn near tears. I had seen you around, but up until that point, we hadn’t spoken. Of course, I noticed you, I mean, fuck, how could I not?”
The way he said it, I’m surprised. What does he mean he noticed me? He sounds frustrated at the admission, but not in the same way it was talking about his dad’s promiscuity.
“Brix,” I whisper, reaching for his chin once again, turning him to look at me. “What does that mean?”
“It means every time I saw you, I thought about how beautiful you looked. How kind you always had been to everyone around you. You were shy, that much was certain. You kept to yourself, but that day, you weren’t. You stopped at my locker, seeing I was upset, and you asked me if I was okay. Fuck, Ivy. I was so fucking mean. I remember the look on your face, the shock hit your eyes. I felt like the biggest asshole in the world, but it was like I felt the need to warn you. To convince you there was nothing good in me that deserved you or your kindness. So, I pushed you away in the only way I knew how. I took my hurt and threw it back at you, thinking it would somehow help me feel better about my shitty life.”
Tears fill the brim of my eyes, pressing my lips into a firm line, I try to hold it all together.
He’s right. He was a jerk, and I never quite understood why. I tried to stay away from him after that day, but it was like life had its way of throwing us back together.
“You didn’t deserve it, Ivy. Not one bit, just like I don’t deserve to be sitting here with you now.”
I reach my hand out for his. It’s still fixed around the bottom of the steering wheel, white-knuckled against the leather. His forearm flexes and I trace my fingers over every ridge lining his muscles. As soon as my fingers find his, he releases his hold turning his hand over, wrapping his fingers in mine. I can’t help but feel like he’s releasing everything he’s held back from me, giving into me now.
“I forgive you,” I murmur, leaning to rest my head on his shoulder.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but like the asshole I am, I’m going to take it. I’m going to take you and hold onto you. I don’t want to let you go.”
Sixteen