~~~This is a prequel, spin-off from Ties~~~
Briar Hayes has lived her entire life being polite, never daring to express the crazy and wild thoughts running laps in her head. At almost twenty-five, stuck in the throes of monotony, she finally snaps...
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"Here's the deal." Briar stops on the walkway outside her apartment building, and her mitten-covered hands thump against my chest.
I nod with what I bet is an insane grin, waiting for her to go on while she bounces on her feet. She's bundled up in a knee-length parka, along with her gloves, shivering like we're in the arctic.
It's nice today, with the temp hovering in the upper fifties. That's sought after weather for this area in late November. I'm comfortable in a light jacket, but she was adamant about her outerwear.
"Court can be... unpredictable." She looks so serious with her brows crunched inward and her lips puckered, I just can't help myself. My shoulders shake. "You laughing at me, Moreau?" Her scowl is short-lived.
"A little." I grip her by the jacket to stop her from backing away. "Though lucky for me, I'm getting pretty good with unpredictability."
"You keep surprising me, that's for sure." Her eyes lock on mine, but she doesn't give me a chance to analyze the expression that has them go wide before fusing our lips.
Each time our mouths meet, it gets better. Deeper. The layers that've been covering her like this puffy black parka are peeling off, bit by bit, and I'm enjoying the hell outta the ride.
Yesterday, she'd opened up to me after Chaz left. He apologized profusely for his behavior, stating he didn't want anyone hurt. And I understandthat—he's seen us both at lows. In turn, I'd apologized for my method of delivery, though only that.
He had also disclosed his opposition to the idea of us when Briar initially brought it up in September. She brought me up first? To him? What? Man, if that isn't a healthy stroke to my ego. He asked how long she'd meant something to me, and I disclosed her reoccurring guest-star role in all of my fantasies since our dorm days. Not in those exact words—still treading lightly.
After Chaz headed back home, she'd brought me up to speed about her biological father. It made me see her much more clearly. It also made me hate someone I don't even know for the act of hurting her alone. But I'mproud she spoke her truth. And trusting me with it? That's a huge step forward for her.
"Okay, Mister 'I'm good with unpredictability.'" She tosses her head back with a laugh of her own. "Don't say I didn't fuckin' warn you."
"'Sup, sluts?" Courtney asks—or shouts—when our ten-minute walk to the strip of shops comes to an end. While I'd met her briefly over video chat, I did not expect... this.
A black lace-up boot pushes off the storefront where she's waiting, and straight ends of blue-green hair touch the shoulders of her leather jacket.
"Hey, Court," Briar responds to the apparent normal greeting with a wave, then she loses the gloves and crams them into her pockets.
