Brendon
“You’re going to die, motherfucker,” Dillon shouted, and I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Language.”
“You’re starting to sound like that Captain America GIF,” Dillon grumbled. “Plus, I’m over eighteen. Kind of allowed to curse.”
“You kind of cursed like a sailor before you were eighteen, too,” Cameron said, shaking his head. “And…take that, motherfucker,” he added, pressing a button on his controller.
I laughed as Dillon stood up, cursing even worse than before, though being respectful about it at the same time.
The brothers were over for a video game battle, though we were doing it quite early in the morning rather than later in the afternoon or even in the evening like most people. We were in the food service and bar industry. That meant our hours were weird.
We’d even somehow gotten Beckham to join us today. Which was kind of nice because Beckham was a stealth fighter when it came to playing video games, and that meant Cameron and Dillon didn’t win every time. They usually did, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Aiden and I weren’t the best at playing video games, though we held our own. Somehow, Violet and Sienna were better than we were, even though they hadn’t played when they were younger and hadn’t logged the hours.
But, apparently, their older brother Mace had taught them well, even from afar, and they could kick our asses.
It wasn’t that they were girls or that girls couldn’t play, it was more the whole practice thing. I had dedicated my life to video games as a middle-schooler and teenager. That had been the first thing I leaned on once I finally realized that I was allowed to actually be a Connolly and not live in the past as much as I had.
And yet I still wasn’t very good at it.
Dillon and Cameron were like fucking savants.
I didn’t know if Harmony could play. She hadn’t played with us when we were younger, and it wasn’t like she played with us now. I only knew that Violet and Sienna could still play because we’d played one night at Cameron’s house when Harmony wasn’t there.
Now, I was thinking about Harmony again, even though I shouldn’t. But I could tell myself that I shouldn’t do a lot of things. It didn’t mean I would stop thinking about them.
After all, Harmony haunted my nightmares. She infused so many parts of me.
I knew I needed to do something about it. Either cleanse her from myself or tell her how I felt.
Because I couldn’t keep going, couldn’t ignore the matter anymore. And I couldn’t stop this aching feeling from entering my gut whenever I thought about her.
It wasn’t her fault that I was falling for her. Wasn’t her fault that I loved her.
Loved.
Holy shit.
I loved Harmony.
How did that happen?
But then I really thought about it. I thought about how I love the way she smiled. The way she leaned in whenever someone spoke to her as if she were truly hearing them, truly understanding. Really wanting to be part of the conversation.
Everything about Harmony was sincere. Yes, sometimes, she had to put on airs, but only when someone made her uncomfortable. Still, she was there, present.
She had pulled herself from the ashes not once but twice and was stronger for it.
I was in awe of her. Of her beauty, her grace, her intelligence. And I might’ve thought the word beauty first, but it wasn’t the first thing about her that made me want her.
I had always been drawn to her, but first only as a friend. Even when we were younger, even before Moyer, I had known that I wanted to be in Harmony’s life.
But it wasn’t until after, until she was back in my life, that something had clicked inside me.
And I’ve never felt so much guilt.
Because Harmony wasn’t mine. She couldn’t be. She shouldn’t be.
She was Moyer’s. And even if she was going on all these dates, ones that weren’t working out for her but still made me want to throw up, I had no claim to her.
I couldn’t be jealous. I couldn’t wish for those dates to go badly. Because I wanted the best for her.
And I didn’t think I could be the best.
Because I was a kid from the streets, one who’d lived in filth, who had been sold for drugs. Who had done things I never wanted to talk about again. Things that I only spoke about with my therapist if needed. But never again.
It didn’t matter that I’d had to go back to therapy, didn’t matter that I was trying to get through it all, or that I still needed to be clean. It didn’t matter that Sam was back, at least in the city. He wasn’t in my life, but he was back. None of that mattered because I wasn’t for Harmony.
“You want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Beckham asked as he strolled into the room.
I looked over at the man and shook my head. “Not really sure what there is to say.”
“Well that’s a crock of shit,” Aiden said, taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, we all know you’re thinking about her. So why don’t you fucking do something about it?”
“Just stop it. You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Didn’t even have to say her name, and yet you knew exactly who I was talking about,” Aiden said knowingly. “What does that say to you? Who am I talking about, big brother?” Aiden asked, leaning forward.
Cameron and Dillon had turned off the game, and everybody stood up to look at me.
I hated being the center of attention. I felt as if I were throwing dirt on myself just by having them watch me. I knew it was all psychological and that I was fine, I was clean, had just showered that morning after all, but it was like something itched under my skin, and I just wanted people to stop looking at me.
“Breathe, Brendon. You’re fine. Okay?” I looked at Cameron and nodded. Then I looked at Aiden, who gave me a quick once-over before moving his gaze away.
The twins knew my issues with cleanliness. They knew how I liked wearing suits because it made me feel a little more dressed, and a little further from the kid I had once been. We all had issues, quirks, and that was mine.
Dillon and Beckham had probably figured it out after the number of times I washed my hands. But it was fine, I was dealing with it. I had a therapist. I had medicine. I was fine.
But none of that had anything to do with the fact that I couldn’t think about Harmony anymore. I couldn’t.
“We’re talking about Harmony, right?” Dillon asked, looking between all of us. I let out a laugh.
Everybody started chuckling, and it was like the vacuum had burst, a bubble popping. Tension slid out of the room, even if a new type burbled beneath the surface.
“Yeah, kid, we’re talking about Harmony,” Beckham said. I looked sharply at the other man.
“You, too?”
“Hey, I’m a bartender. Another form of therapist, if you will.”
“So, what? You see all and know all?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yep. Still a better bartender than you.” He winked, grinning under his beard for a moment before going back to his normal look of detachment.
I flipped him off and laughed, needing that.
“Yes, okay? It’s about Harmony. Can’t be about Harmony. But it is. That’s who I was thinking about. Can we just stop talking about it?”
“You’re the one who keeps saying her name,” Cameron said, stuffing his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “But we’ve been very good about not questioning you about it.”
“Yeah, we just talk about it behind your back,” Aiden said, grinning.
I flipped him off, too. For good measure. “Seriously? You guys talk about this? What are you guys saying? I don’t even know what I’m thinking, and yet you think you can just talk about it as if you guys know more than I do?” I was starting to raise my voice, so I slid my hand through my hair and then started pacing. “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I can’t have this feeling. I can’t have any feeling when it comes to her. We’re just friends. Friends.”
“And if you keep telling yourself that, maybe one day you’ll believe it,” Cameron said. “Brendon. She’s single. You’re single. I see the way you look at her. It’s not just the fact that you think she’s hot.” A pause. “Because she is hot.”
“Hey, you’re dating Violet. Eyes off.” I snapped out the words, and all four sets of brows rose. Great. Now, who was being a territorial asshole? It was one thing I really didn’t want to do.
“Yes, I am dating Violet. She’s the love of my life, and one day I’m going to marry her. I also think that her friends are hot. I’m a man. I have eyes. It happens. But that does not mean I’m going to actually move on any of those feelings. You, on the other hand, have more feelings than that. We all know it.”
“Oh? And what exactly am I feeling? Because I don’t even really know yet.” That was a lie, considering I’d just told myself that I loved her, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I could barely think about it without wanting to throw up, so that meant I wasn’t going to say the words to anyone else.
Let alone Harmony.
Oh, God, there was that bile again.
“I think you need to talk with her,” Dillon said.
I looked at the kid, shaking my head. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Dillon. There’s a lot more than just what you see on the surface. A whole lot more.”
“I know things.”
“Dillon.”
“I do, I know that she used to be married to your friend from work. I know that Moyer died. I know that Allison died recently and that’s adding a whole new layer of issues to her already somewhat healed grief. I know she’s going on dates because everyone keeps talking about how bad they are. I know that she talks to you after almost every one. Am I right? Yeah, I think I’m right. So, after every bad date, she ends up talking to you and her friends to feel better. What do you think that means? And don’t say you’re in the friend zone. Friend-zoned is just something that gets brought up to make everyone think that because they’re in the friend zone, they have the right to make everyone feel bad about it instead of feeling like they’re allowed to feel. Meaning, whatever they want to feel.”
My head spun.
“You lost me there,” I said, rubbing my temples.
“I’ll get back to Harmony in a minute. Friend-zoned is what some guys think they’re put in when a girl doesn’t want them, and they’re just friends. That is just called being a friend. It’s not a weigh-station for them to think you’re hot so you can get in their pants. Friend-zoned is just a stupid, stupid thing that I hate. However, I’m off-topic. You and Harmony look at each other.”
“Before we talk about that last sentence,” Cameron interrupted, “I’ve never been prouder of you, Dillon. I’m just going to put that out there.”
My head whirled. I felt like I was two steps behind on this conversation. At least with respect to women. However, I was still lost.
“What do you mean we look at each other? We’re friends. You know that.”
“No,” Dillon said softly. “You look at each other,” he repeated, emphasizing the word. “You see each other. You’re friends, sure, but it’s like you guys have inside jokes that you didn’t even know you had. You always rely on each other, and you always team up, no matter what. That’s not just being friends. You have a solid foundation. And I know that if you’re this stressed out, whatever you’re feeling for her is important. It’s real. So, maybe you need to do something about it.”
“And what if I do something about it?” I asked the room. “What if I go and tell her that I want something more. That I don’t want to just be her friend. What if I tell her and everything gets fucked up? What are we going to do then? Because it’s not just her and me anymore. It’s all of us. We’re a group.”
“We’re a group,” Aiden agreed. “But that’s not all of it. No matter what our dynamics are as a unit, if we start dating within it, we’ll figure out how to deal with that. We’re figuring out a way to remain together without Allison. Without our parents. We added Dillon.” Aiden gestured to the kid. “Hell, we’re adding Beckham and Meadow, too. The group can change, it has multi-layered dynamics. But that is not what is worrying you. At least it’s not the main thing.”
I looked at all of them, swallowing hard.
“And?”
“And it’s not your dad,” Beckham said softly, and I looked over at the other man.
“Excuse me?”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me. I might not know everything about your past, but I remember seeing the man that walked into the bar. I know what a former addict looks like. Believe me. And I know the three of you are foster kids that went through fucking hell before you came to Jack and Rose. I don’t need to know the details. If you want to tell me, I’m here. And not just because I’m your bartender. Because I’m your friend. I know you went through hell. And I know you’re not that kid anymore. And I have a feeling that seeing that man come into the brewery probably rattled your cage some. But that’s not why you’re worried about Harmony. Not the biggest part.”
“You don’t think I know I’m not good enough for her? Because I know that. I might wear a suit, I might be a completely different person than I was when I was living on the streets, but she’s high-class, and I was street. I was trash.” A little out of breath, I added, “A little sheen’s not going to change that.”
“You’re lucky I don’t punch the shit out of you,” Aiden snapped. “A little sheen? Fuck that. Jack and Rose didn’t give you a little sheen. They gave you a family. Yeah, we fucked that up before. We all walked away when we shouldn’t have. But we’re back together again. And there’s four of us now. Five if you include Beckham, but I don’t think he really wants to be a Connolly.”
“Thanks,” Beckham added dryly.
Aiden shook his head. “Jack and Rose did not give you a little sheen,” he repeated. “They gave you a family. They gave you support. You’re not that kid anymore. Yeah, maybe he’s somewhere deep inside, and hell, all our little kids are still inside us, fucking us over every once in a while with who we used to be. But you have a lot more history than those years you lived on the streets. And I think that past is what’s standing in your way.”
I looked at all of them, and then down at my hands.
I had no idea how we had gotten here. All five of us standing in my fucking living room trying not to talk about the important things and yet only talking about them.
“Moyer’s gone,” Cameron said softly. “He’s gone, and he’s not coming back. But look at her, Brendon. Look at the way she survived.”
I looked up at my family, my friend, and shook my head. Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. This wasn’t the time to break down. I was already ragged inside. “I know she survived. She’s so damn strong. So fucking amazing.” I took a deep breath. “I know that Harmony isn’t mine. She can’t be. Can she?”
“At least you’re asking the right questions now,” Dillon added. “I mean, she’s out there dating, and she’s still smiling. And she talks about him. The fact that I even know his name means it’s not something we don’t talk about because it hurts too much. Losing people you love is going to hurt, but being able to talk about them is a way of healing. And you’re part of that. You knew them both. And if she wants nothing to do with you, I know you won’t force her to date you or some crap like that. But it’s not fair for you to hold it all inside.”
“Where the hell did you learn all this?” Cameron asked. “Because I’m not that good at parenting.”
Dillon looked up at him and shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets just like Cameron had done before. “You’re not that bad. And I hear things. I learn things. I guess. And TV helps.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Then you need to think about it.” I looked over at Aiden when he spoke. “Either you don’t do anything about what you’re feeling, and you pine. Or you continue not doing anything, and you find someone else to date. Maybe that’ll help. Maybe that will let you get through this so you can let her live her life, and you can live yours. Or, maybe, you do something else about it. Because standing back and watching your life pass you by without actually living it? That’s not something that Jack and Rose ever wanted us to do. I see the way she looks at you, even if she doesn’t realize she’s doing it. You two have a connection. Maybe you should try and do something about it.”
Bile rose in my throat again, and I just shook my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“Then at least try to be honest with yourself,” Cameron said.
“And then you can be honest with her. As long as you know the words first, you can find them to tell her.” At Beckham’s words, the others seemed to realize that I needed a moment alone, so they gathered their gear, said goodbye, and left me alone in my house with my thoughts and whatever the fuck I was feeling.
I looked down at my hands and wondered if I was making a mistake.
Of course, maybe the mistake was me standing here not doing anything about what I felt.
Maybe I just needed to stop acting like a dick and actually bare my heart to her. Or, at least surrender a part of it.
Because standing in the wings, watching Harmony live her life and wondering how I could be a part of it wasn’t healthy.
It wasn’t fair to either of us.
I knew I’d been coming to this moment for far longer than just the minutes I had with my friend and brothers talking about it.
I needed to do something about it.
I had to.
And so, I somehow found myself in my car, driving to Harmony’s house, hoping she would be there. I didn’t know her work schedule by heart or if she’d be out with her friends.
I didn’t text her ahead of time, I didn’t call her. I didn’t do anything but get in my car and have it take me to her.
Because everything I’d done up to this moment had been leading me to her.
Even if I went through the motions, even if I told myself that I wasn’t good enough for her, even if my past wasn’t perfect, I couldn’t hold back any longer.
And what scared me most, more than I cared to admit, was that she saw Moyer when she looked at me.
I had no idea what I would do if that were the case. I had no idea what I would do if that were the only thing she saw.
But I didn’t know if I could go on without telling her how I felt. Without having her in my life.
I was going to risk everything.
I might end up breaking everything in the end for a woman I shouldn’t have, one I shouldn’t want.
But the others had said that she looked at me, and I wanted to believe that. I wanted it to be true so much that I was going to risk everything just to tell her how I felt. To let her know what I wanted, even if I didn’t exactly know what that was.
“Okay, come on, you can do this,” I whispered to myself as I pulled into the driveway. Thankfully, I saw Harmony’s car there, and I turned off my own engine, wondering if I would be able to get out of the vehicle at all.
And then I was on my feet, the car door closed behind me. I didn’t even remember getting out.
Maybe that was good. Because if I thought too hard, I would probably just throw up.
And vomiting on her rose bushes probably wasn’t the best way to tell her that I had feelings for her.
So, I knocked on the door and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
She didn’t answer.
I didn’t know what else to do, and then I just laughed. I shook my head. It figured she wouldn’t be there. The one time that I actually had enough balls to do something about what I felt, and she wasn’t there.
I snorted, turned on my heel, and made my way back to my car. Maybe I would tell her later.
Maybe I’d just let it pass.
If it was meant to be, it would happen.
But me taking a risk out of nowhere wasn’t something I usually did.
I had just put my hand on my car door when the house door opened, and Harmony came running out in tight yoga pants and a sports bra, her face flushed.
Everything else faded away.
It was all dewy skin and rosy cheeks and that tight outfit.
So fricking tight.
Just like that, I had no idea what to say, my tongue was tied, and my dick got hard.
Well, hell.
“I’m so sorry, I was in the middle of yoga, trying to work out my lower back, and then I sort of just zoned out and didn’t hear the doorbell. It was just luck that I looked out the window and saw your car. I’m sorry.” She stopped in front of me, her feet bare even in the cold.
I shook my head, took off my coat, and wrapped it around her.
She looked up at me, her hands brushing the tops of mine as she reached to her own shoulders. A smile played on her lips, and she studied my face.
Was this what the others saw when they said that she looked at me?
I wasn’t sure.
I couldn’t read her. Maybe it was because I couldn’t trust my own feelings when it came to her.
If I could figure her out, maybe I could determine what she would say if I told her how I felt.
What she would say when I told her.
“It’s too cold for you to be out here in bare feet.”
“That is true. Why don’t you come in with me? We can talk.”
I swallowed hard, looked in her eyes, and tried to see what was there. Tried to imagine what she would say.
I had no idea. I had no idea at all.
And even if I shouldn’t want her, I knew I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
I did.
So I took that risk.
“I think we need to talk,” I said softly.
Her eyes met mine, curiosity there along with a little something that I couldn’t quite name.
“I think we need to talk,” I repeated.
And I hoped against all hopes that I didn’t ruin what we had.
Anything at all.