Текст книги "Don't Let Go"

Автор книги: Michelle Lynn

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 18

I’m awakened by my phone dinging.

B – Good morning, beautiful. It’s not the same waking up without you. I have  been spoiled beyond repair. Meet me at Student Center at ten? Love you.

Me – See you there! Love you.

 

After my restless night’s sleep, I agree with Brady. Sleeping is hard without him next to me. I sit up to get ready for class. I have an eight a.m. and then I will meet Brady before he walks me to Algebra.

When I get to the Student Center, I’m surprised to find Brady talking with Kara and a pang of jealousy hits me. When he spots me, he stands up and waves good-bye to her. He already has two coffees in his hand as he walks over at me. He rests them at the nearest table before he embraces me and lifts my feet off the ground.

“What a nice hello,” I say.

“God…I missed you. How the hell am I supposed to go this whole weekend without you?” he asks. Thanksgiving weekend is going to suck.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” I say and glance Kara’s way. I wish I could take the words back. I have to remember, I trust him.

“She’s starting to freak me out a little. You might have to start a cat fight, baby,” he jokes. I see Kara, blatantly staring at us with dislike written all over her face.

“I don’t know babe, she might be able to take me. She seems kind of scrappy,” I admit and giggle.

“Spend the night tonight,” he says, trying to change the topic.

“Okay,” I agree. How could I not?

“Great…here’s your coffee.” He picks it up and hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I exclaim, kissing his cheek.

“You can thank me later,” he teases.

“Brady, what are doing for Thanksgiving?” I ask.

“Um…I haven’t really decided yet. I have some family in town and I’ve been invited for dinner.” His mood comes down a little.

“Are all the guys going home?” I question.

“Yeah, they’ve all asked me to come but I would never impose.”

“What about your parents?” I can’t help but dig for information; he has given nothing so far.

“My mom is in Florida with her new husband. I’m not very close with her. My dad isn’t going to be around so I don’t know. Mrs. Fletcher invited me over to her house, so maybe I’ll just swing by there. When do you leave?” he asks, changes the subject. I can’t help but feel bad that his parents don’t care to spend the holiday with him.

“Thursday morning. Do you want to come home with me?” I ask the question before I can think of the repercussions.

“Really?” he asks disbelievingly.

“Yes, why do you look so surprised?”

“I’m pretty sure your parents won’t be happy when they see me come off that plane with you.” He smiles at me and a twinge of guilt hits. He’s right. But I love him and my parents are going to have to face us at some point.

“Who cares? Come home with me,” I beg.

“Are you sure you’re ready to deal with this, Sadie?” he asks, and I can’t help but feel he has no faith in us.

“Yes, I love you. Either they accept you or lose me,” I state and he quirks an eyebrow my way.

He releases a deep breath before saying, “I love you. I would be happy to escort you home for Thanksgiving.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carsen,” I joke.

That evening, we book the same flight for Brady as I have. He demands to pay, even though I offer. We were lucky there is a seat left since my flight is on Thanksgiving Day. I guess people prefer to get to their destination earlier.

I call my mom to inform her that Brady is coming home with me. She seems hesitant but says okay. She keeps me on the phone, asking me questions about him. What fraternity is he in? What do his parents do? Where does he live? I finally tell her that he is in a band, not a fraternity. I don’t know what his parents do, but they seem like jackasses since they don’t try to see him on holidays. He has lived here his whole life. She is silent for a minute before happily saying she can’t wait to meet him. Yeah right!

On Wednesday, we have the house to ourselves, since all the boys and Jessa left to go home. We are downstairs in the recording studio, relaxing on the couch while listening to music. I’m dreading going home but not because of Brady; he will only make it better. I just hope my parents don’t scare him away. Like always, Brady can sense when I’m deep in thought.

“It will be fine, baby. I will be on my best behavior. I’ll hide my tattoos,” he jokes.

“You don’t have any tattoos,” I laugh. “Why not?” I ask.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Honestly, I’ve been a zillion times with Trey and Robbie and I have no idea why I haven’t gotten one yet.”

“Do you think you will ever get one?”

“Maybe,” he responds, completely indifferent to the whole conversation. “Enough of this, I only have you to myself for a few more hours.” He picks me up and throws me down on my back, climbing on top of me.

“Brady,” I sigh.

“Say it babe,” he smirks down at me. He started this Monday night.

“Take me,” I laugh.

“Is that all you have?” He kisses his favorite spot on my neck, licking up to my earlobe.

“Fuck me?” I giggle. I’m lost on this whole dirty talk thing that he enjoys.

“Love the words, hate the conviction,” he says, and I can hear the humor in his voice as his hands roam up my shirt. “Where do you want my hands?”

“Keep going…” I imagine my face is beet red at this point but Brady stares, waiting for me to continue. “Cup my breasts,” I finish.

“Or another word?” he asks and I hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Alright, progress baby. Great progress,” he chuckles and continues his way up, bringing my breast out from my lace bra. He pulls up my sweater to expose me. “I love your tits,” he says, enunciating the word I couldn’t say. I giggle in response.

I love the fact that we can go at each other with enormous intensity or playfully joke around while making love.

He engulfs his mouth around my nipple and sucks it into his mouth, while his hand fiddles with my pants. The anticipation of his fingers on me makes my skin burn. I grasp his shirt and he pulls it off himself, grabbing the back collar. My hands make their way to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. With his lips on mine, he tries to shrug them off. Then I push him up so he’s sitting on the couch. I slowly get up and take off my sweater and bra, bending down between his legs.

“Take it all off, Sadie. If you are going to suck my cock, I want to see you naked while doing it.” His face is serious, and although I can’t talk dirty back, when he speaks to me like that, I unravel and turn into a hot, wet mess.

I stand up, slowly pulling my jeans down and revealing my purple cotton panties. When I turn around to let Brady have a slow look, he grabs my ass and bites it hard.

“Ouch,” I holler and he laughs.

“Just following directions, babe,” he says, rubbing the part of my ass he just bit.

I totally forgot my underwear says ‘take a bite’ on the back.

“They might be my new favorite panties of yours.” He hooks his fingers on the sides and pulls them down my legs. “Just a little love bite, don’t worry.” He continues to rub it, chuckling to himself.

I bend down between his legs, naked as he requested. This is my first time doing this, and I worry I won’t be good at it. That I’ll embarrass myself.

“Take it in your hands like this.” Brady’s hands wrap around mine, showing me exactly how to do it. “Now lick up and down before you wrap your mouth around the top.” I follow his directions and hear a moan escape his lips. “Keep doing what you’re doing, it feels amazing. But keep moving your hand on my shaft while sucking me. Yeah…just like…that.” His head falls back onto the couch and his eyes roll back in pleasure. Hearing the noises coming from his mouth brings a build-up within me. I continue doing what Brady instructed. I feel him get harder and tenser, making me go faster. His moans rise in volume. This is the most erotic thing I have ever experienced. “I’m going to come, baby,” he warns me but I stay put, continuing. “Baby…” he warns again. Unable to stop it, he thrusts and I continue to stroke him while he comes in my mouth. I swallow and stare up at him.

“Do you have any idea how fucking fantastic you are? Jesus, Sadie…I almost came the second your warm mouth descended on me,” he says, bringing me up. “Now, it’s your turn.”

He stands up and grabs our clothes, pulling me with him. He walks me up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom, disposing me on his bed. His lips and hands travel my body up and down before resting between my legs. He gets me to where I was last weekend in no time at all, but this time he continues until I come undone from his mouth. Then he wraps himself behind me and we fall asleep.

The next morning, Brady kisses my shoulder up to my neck. “Wake up beautiful, time to see Daddy,” he chuckles and pushes the sheets off me.

“Brady…” I sigh. “Ten more minutes,” I whine.

“No can do, we have to get to the airport.” I hear the zipping of bags.

“Why don’t you come to bed with me?” I use my best seductive voice.

“I want to more than anything, but if you are going to take a shower, you have to get up,” he says. Sitting up, I see Brady is already dressed and ready. He has on a pair of khakis and a fresh, button-down shirt with a pair of black dress shoes. His hair is gelled like the other night and his wrists bare of the bracelets I love. This is Brady trying to impress my family.

“Oh, no you don’t,” I say and wag my finger at him.

“What?” he asks sheepishly. “Let’s not scare them off the first day,” he counters.

“Brady, I want them to meet you, the 100% authentic Brady Carsen. Please put your bracelets back on, style your hair the way you want, and for heaven’s sake, put your jeans and t-shirt on,” I beg.

“Sadie, I feel like you’re asking for trouble,” he argues.

“Please, Brady. I meant what I said. If they don’t like you, it’s their problem,” I say with finality and walk into the bathroom to take my shower.

When I emerge, Brady is resting against the headboard in his now made bed, strumming on his guitar. I crawl up and kiss him on the nose. “Happy Thanksgiving,” I say.

“Happy Thanksgiving, gorgeous,” he responds back. “You better get moving,” he instructs.

“I’m happy to see you listened to me.” I twist his bracelets around his wrist.

“Well, what can I say? You made a good point but…are you sure, Sadie? I have no problem changing my appearance for the first time I meet them.” He brings me onto his lap.

“Never, Brady. I love you.” I point to his chest.

“Alright, end of discussion. Now get that hot ass up and get ready. I refuse to miss our flight and have your parents think I’m some lazy slacker who didn’t have the decency to get their daughter there on time.” He slaps my ass when I stand up.

An hour later, we run through the airport, trying to get through security. We might have gotten a little carried away before we left the house. Finally, we get to our gate and are the last two to be seated. I take the middle seat, leaving Brady the aisle.

It’s a short flight so we only get a drink. We both order orange juice. I lean against Brady’s shoulder and he smiles down to me. I notice his leg is going a mile a minute and he keeps tapping his fingers on his knee.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Maybe…a little nervous,” he confesses. “I’ve never met parents… at least not ones I cared if they thought I was good enough for their daughter.”

“Relax, Brady, it will be fine,” I say, praying to God I’m right. I have no doubt my parents will be nice and cordial to his face. “Their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me, Sadie,” he admits. When he turns his face to me, I can’t help but see the anguish in his eyes.

“Whatever happens…please just be yourself,” I request and he nods his head slightly.

We land and file out of the plane. Brady remains quiet and I can’t help but feel bad for him; this situation sucks. I squeeze his hand on the way to baggage claim and he turns toward me. “Thank you, Brady,” I say.

“For what?” he asks.

“For doing this. I know this is hard for you.”

“It’s worth it, Sadie. Anything is worth it for you,” he says and bends down to kiss me.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you,” he whispers back.

Chapter 19

Brady and I leave the safety of the airport to wait for my dad outside. I text him to let him know we’re here. He pulls up along the curb in his sleek, silver BMW and pops the trunk. As I walk to the back, Brady puts our bags in the car, giving me a sideways glance, confused as to why my dad never got out of the car. I tell Brady to take the front and I sit in the back.

“Hi Dad, this is Brady. Brady, this is my Dad,” I make the introductions. My dad looks the same with dirty blond hair brushed to one side and too tanned skin this close to winter.

“Nice to meet you, Brady,” my dad says cordially, but I see the disapproving look in his emerald eyes that match mine.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” Brady politely says and shakes my dad’s hand.

“Please, call me Junior,” he tells him.

“Okay, thank you for picking us up, Junior,” Brady responds back.

“No problem.” My dad pulls the car out, making his way to the freeway.

The ride is quiet. My dad asks a few standard questions to Brady. What’s your major? Engineering, Brady answers. I’m sure my dad isn’t impressed. Business would have made him happy and pre-law would have made him happier, but he doesn’t say anything.

I still remember Theo wanting to major in Archeology, but my dad told him he was better suited for political science. He told Theo he wasn’t raising a bum of a son who was going to gallivant around the world digging up fossils no one gave a shit about. That with his charismatic personality, he would do better in political science and joking that he might become the president.

We pull up to my house and my dad parks in the garage next to my mom’s white Range Rover. I see they still haven’t removed Theo’s car. It’s hidden under a cover a few stalls down. How they pull in and out every day with it there amazes me.

My dad turns to walk into the house while Brady and I get our bags. Brady appears more relaxed now after meeting my dad. My dad’s always been a good bull-shitter. He can make anyone feel like they matter. That’s why he’s in sales.

I give Brady a chaste kiss before we shut the trunk and thank him again for coming here, facing my parents. He takes our bags and my mom opens the door leading to the house. She still has short, blonde hair and an average, thin figure. Her look is typical to a mom who golfs and plays tennis at our country club, attending a few social charity events at my dad’s request.

“I thought I heard you,” she’s exclaims, drying her hands on her apron and walking toward us.

“Hi, Mom,” I say, embracing her. She holds me tight against her and I hear her sniffle. Is she crying?

“It’s so good to have you home.” She backs away from me, then sets her attention to Brady. “You must be Brady; it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, placing her hand out for him.

“The pleasure’s mine, Mrs. Miller. Thank you for having me,” Brady states.

“The honor is all ours. Please, call me Maggie,” she remarks. I look at her and see genuine happiness to have me home and meet Brady. I don’t notice any judgmental looks his way and I think he notices too. When I glance back at him, he gives me the first authentic smile I’ve seen since we landed. “Let’s get you guys settled.” She hurriedly gestures for us to go inside.

The house is still elaborately decorated with statues and paintings worth more than my college tuition. I walk Brady upstairs and show him his room. I’m thankful he has the guest room instead of Theo’s old room. The door is shut and I don’t plan on going in there this trip either. We lay Brady’s bags on the queen-size bed.

“How are you doing?” I ask.

“Fine. Sadie, stop worrying about me. I can handle this,” he says, reaching down to cup my face.

“You aren’t going to leave me if my parents are jackasses?” I ask.

“No,” he laughs. “That’s not a deal breaker.”

“Okay. Hey, have you found any new ones yet?” I question and grab his hand, leading him out of the room.

“I think I’m in too deep to start thinking about deal breakers.” He smirks at me, kissing my forehead.

We enter the hallway and I hear my grandma’s voice in the foyer. “Come on,” I say, yanking on Brady’s arm. “Meet my Grandma Ida. She’s the only sane one in the family.”

My grandma is a petite, redhead who speaks her mind. “Sadie darling, you look so beautiful,” she says, hugging me.

“Hi Grandma Ida, it’s good to see you,” I reply and take Brady’s hand so he is in front of her as well. “Grandma, this is Brady, my boyfriend,” I inform her, holding his hand firmly in my own.

“Let go darling, let the boy hug me,” she insists, extending her arms.

Brady doesn’t flinch, wrapping his arms around my small grandma. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs…”

“Ida, just Ida,” she informs him. “Strong and gentle, good mixture.” She lets Brady go and winks my way.

“Mom, do you want to rest before dinner?” my dad questions her, trying to get her eyes off of Brady, who smiles back to my grandma, unfazed of her admiring eyes.

“No, I sat on my ass the whole ride here.” Brady and I chuckle and my dad rolls his eyes.

“Come on Ida, take a seat in the entertainment room,” my mom instructs her.

“Theo, be a dear and get my bag. I have something for Sadie and I brought my sweet potato and apple pies,” she turns to my dad and Brady looks my way, confused.

“Sure, Mom,” my dad takes her keys and walks out the front door.

“I told you I was going to make the pies, Ida. You didn’t need to bring anything.” My mom takes my grandma’s arm, guiding her into the other room.

“Darling, you can cook a gourmet meal that will melt in your mouth, but I’m not about to eat some store bought pie on Thanksgiving, no matter what high-end bakery you bought it from.” Brady and I chuckle, following them.

“My dad is Theo as well. He’s Theodore Benjamin Miller, Jr., my brother was the third,” I whisper in Brady’s ear to clarify the situation. He nods his head to me in understanding.

I’m surprised how much Brady appears to be into football. I guess I never asked but he is sitting in the living room, cheering for the Detroit Lions along with my dad and grandma. My dad was born in Detroit but only lived there until he was three. My biological grandpa died and Grandma Ida met and married my Grandpa Pat, who brought her and my dad to live here in the east. Every Thanksgiving, they cheer on the Lions because they think of them as their hometown team.

After I peel the potatoes, I sit next to Brady and cozy up to him but he moves over, only holding my hand. I give him a quizzical look and he shifts his eyes to my dad and then back to me. I smile, realizing he wants to be respectful. I guess I should as well.

We all go into the dining room to have dinner. I instruct Brady to sit next to me; my parents are at each end and my grandma across from us. My grandma is right, my mom is a magnificent cook. The golden brown turkey looks juicy and delectable. The potatoes are whipped to perfection with homemade gravy, accompanied by fresh baked rolls and butter shaped into leaves. My mom knows how to entertain, even if it is just us.

“Great job, Mags,” my dad compliments her and she gives him a tight smile back. What was that about?

“Yes Maggie, it all looks so tasty,” my grandma joins in.

“Thank you all, please dig in,” she says and motions with her hands out to the table.

We all start to pass the dishes, making small talk about school and my grandma’s senior condo building. My dad talks about his clients and my mom fills me in on some former classmates of mine. When dessert arrives, the game of twenty questions starts, all of which are directed toward Brady.

“So Brady, where is your family this holiday?” my dad asks.

“I told Mom, his dad and mom were busy,” I answer for him and Brady squeezes my leg under the table.

“Sadie is correct. My mom lives in Florida and my dad wasn’t available.”

“Where does your mom live in Florida?” my grandma asks.

“Um…Miami,” Brady stutters as though he had to think about it.

“I go down to Melbourne Beach during the winter,” my grandma adds. “You and Sadie should come down during your holiday break.” She smiles up at us. “You could visit your mom while you’re down there.”

“I’m sure Sadie and I would love to visit you,” Brady says, leaving his mother out. I’m afraid there are more issues than I know.

“Come on down. Hell, I’ll pay for your ticket if you wear a speedo,” she laughs.

“Grandma!” I shriek.

“Mom!” my dad screams while my mom laughs along with my grandma.

“Oh Sadie, you can’t keep that all to yourself,” she says and winks at Brady, who laughs.

“Brady, what do your parents do?” my dad asks. “My mom is a realtor and my dad is a retired professor,” he says. I try not to look surprised; these are things I should have already known.

“Oh, so was your father a professor at Western?” my mom asks.

“Yes, he retired last year.” Brady never looks up, moving his pie around on the plate.

“Wait.” My dad sets his fork down. “Is your dad Dean Carsen of Contemporary Music?”

“Yes sir, he was,” Brady says, his voice is quiet and shaky and I wonder what I’m missing.

“I have a friend whose son went there. He gives your dad credit for his son’s success. His name is Jack London, the producer for Heavensky Records.”

“Yes, I know him. He used to come by the house sometimes when I was younger,” Brady says. “He also attended my dad’s retirement ceremony last year.”

“Isn’t your dad young to already be retired?” my mom inquires.

“He had been teaching there since he got his doctorate so he retired early in order to work on some other projects,” he says, void of any emotion.

“Why didn’t you follow in his footsteps and pursue music?” my dad asks.

“I wanted something different.” Brady shrugs his shoulders.

“But you are in a band, correct?” my dad clarifies.

“Yes, but that is more of a hobby,” he answers. I notice Brady is getting exhausted from all of the questions. He isn’t an open book when it comes to his family.

“So, I think I’m going to take a year off next year,” I blurt out to change the subject for Brady’s sake. Let the firing squad direct my way.

“What?” my dad’s upset voice asks.

“Dad, it’s way too late for me to apply for my Master’s. Not to mention, I don’t know where I even want to go to school,” I answer truthfully.

“You can go back to Drayton. I can pull some strings and get them to accept you.” He continues to eat his pie as though he just solved the problem.

“I’m not going back there,” I spat.

“Junior, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” my mom chimes in. “Maybe you could go to Western. I’m sure they will understand why you haven’t applied yet.” She directs her comment to me.

“I don’t want to. I want to take a year off,” I say, standing firm.

“Is this your doing, Brady?” my dad asks him and I gasp. “What? Are you going to follow him and his band around the country, living in some van and getting drunk?”

“Stop it, Dad,” I respond through clenched teeth.

“Ohh…you’re in a band. You just keep getting better and better,” my grandma adds, smiling at Brady. His eyes are on my dad only.

“I promise you, sir, I have nothing to do with this.” Brady removes his hand from my lap.

“What are your plans after graduation?” My dad narrows his eyes at Brady.

“I haven’t decided just yet, but I promise you, my band has nothing to do with it.” Brady’s eyes still haven’t left my dad’s, as though this is a showdown and Brady doesn’t want to show weakness.

“We can discuss these issues later. Can we please just enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner?” my mom requests and everyone quiets down.

After dinner, Brady and I help my mom clean up the dishes and then go for a drive. My mom offers me Theo’s keys but I decline, taking her car. It’s nice to finally be alone with Brady. I drive him around my hometown, seeing Theo everywhere. We stop at an ice cream place and walk over to a pond, cuddling up on a park bench.

“Sorry for my dad today,” I apologize.

“It’s okay, baby. I knew he expected the worst.” He pulls his arms around my shoulder tighter, kissing the top of my head.

“It isn’t right that he said that,” I say.

“He is your dad, Sadie. He just wants what’s best for you. I want that, too.”

We walk back to the car, and Brady drives us back to my parents’ house. I’m happy the lights are off when we pull up. We tiptoe up the stairs and Brady kisses me goodnight at my bedroom door. I’m half afraid he will sneak out in the middle of the night so he doesn’t have to deal with my parents.