Brazen Mistakes (Brazen Boys #3)

Bonus Epilogue

RJ

Clara's hand in mine feels right. The movie I picked out didn't suck, and reaching into the popcorn bucket to find her hand already in there?

The contact was like being electrocuted, but with lust and something that feels a whole lot calmer and secure as well.

Something that might turn into love.

I feel like I'm living the cheesiest teen rom com, and it's embarrassingly fantastic.

The bar down the street from the movie theater has a kitchen that's open late, and while it's not as nice as the restaurant reservation we’d missed earlier, I can't say that I'm sad we skipped out on it.

The sneaky smiles she keeps shooting at me tells me she thinks the same thing.

This girl. Everything about her.

Her patience. Her intelligence. The way she needs everything just so, keeping her outsides contained so nobody notices what a chaoticly beautiful mess lives inside of her.

But I get to see it. A private window into the person she really is instead of the person she wants everyone else to believe she is. A gift that I have no plans of ever throwing away.

At the bar, she tugs me into the booth beside her, and I come willingly, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, tucking her close.

"How's your first date going?" she asks, the smile in her eyes matching the grin on her face.

I press my lips to her curls. "Best first date I could imagine."

"Doing this backwards was definitely the way to go," she says, her hand squeezing my thigh before she flips over the menu, figuring out what she might actually be willing to eat.

"I'd recommend backwards dates from here on out," I say. "Both you and your date get to work up an appetite."

She chuckles, and I squeeze her tighter to my side. So little laughter has come from her lately that this one feels extra special.

We order then keep chatting, just taking a moment to be two people on a date. Nothing dark, crazy or uncontrolled. Just a couple enjoying the company of each other.

The food comes out, and I spend more time than I should worried about her eating enough, as I take a bite of my burger, even if I don’t say anything. I know I shouldn’t feel responsible for her, but I do. Everything about her calls to me, and if I can just make one part of her life easier, I'm going to do it. She already makes my life better everyday.

I've experienced more than I ever thought I would, felt a kind of ease that I'd assumed was impossible because of her. She's somehow even brought me and the guys closer when I already thought my friendships were solid.

Something catches my attention on the other side of the dark bar, dragging me from my thoughts, and I pull out my phone clicking to get to the back door I have on Bryce’s phone, trying to be circumspect. But Clara notices. Of course she does. "What's up?"

I’m not going to lie to her. We can’t stay safe if she doesn’t know exactly what’s going on. "I thought I saw something in that corner."

She pulls out her own phone, both of us waiting for an alert that Bryce is lurking, but it doesn't come.

"Huh," she says, squinting across the bar.

"Want to go home? Or do you want to draw him out?" I ask, not finding any photos of us backed up on Bryce’s cloud. It can take a minute though, so the lack doesn’t mean anything.

She taps her fingers against her thigh under the table before she answers me. "Draw him out."

"How should we do that?"

Her fingers drum on her thigh as she thinks. "How do you feel about PDA?"

"Like, making out? Here?"

"I mean, maybe not here, if you're not comfortable. We could go outside. Or maybe this is a bad idea." Her head drops, and I tuck my finger under her chin, her eyes darting to mine.

"Sugar, it's all I can to do keep from kissing you, any time, any place. I trust your judgment. But I'm not sure we need to involve all these people in whatever happens next. Bryce, he's—" I stop not able to say how much what happened scared me. How angry I am that he twisted something that was already bad into something worse.

She nods, not needing me to put the words out there. "Let's get the check, then."

She finishes her cinnamon-y cocktail as I flag down out waiter and pay. We both keep sneaking glances in the corner, but I don't see whoever it is again. Clara's tension however, tells me there's still someone there.

Her sixth sense isn't something I'm going to disregard.

The wind buffets us as we head out, and I let Clara take the lead. I just hope I get a chance to show her ex exactly what I think about his continued harassment of my girl.

She pulls me across the street into a small park, her awareness focused behind us as she tucks herself under my arm. Then she's pushing me against a tree, her lips warm against mine.

Just kissing her is enough to have my brain quiet, my coat unzipped and her fingers trailing under my shirt almost making me forget why we’re out here, kissing in the snow.

Then she spins us, using my body as a shield while she squints into the dark, hoping to catch sight of our tail, the telltale click-click of a shutter on the wind cuing me in to the fact our plan worked.

"Do you see him?" I ask.

"I see something. Why isn't the alarm going off?"

There's no way I messed up a simple proximity alert. Although, I've been so tired lately, so over worked, I suppose there's a chance that I did. "I don't know. I can check when we get back home."

"God, I hate this," she mutters, her fingers still warm against my skin, tucked under so many layers as she rests her forehead against my chest.

I glance around. "Walk with me." Taking her hand, I pull her toward a low park building in the distance. She strides beside me, her eyes lighting with a touch of the fire I've come to expect from her. "Do you think he'll get close enough for this move?" she whispers, leaning up to my ear.

"Hopefully. If legal means won't get him to lay off, maybe it's time for illegal ones." I flash back to the conversation I had with Trips earlier, both of us agreeing that we're willing to do what it takes to get this monster off her back. Maybe we won't have to race for it after all.

She giggles up at me as we turn the corner, playing the part of an excited lover while I stew, preparing for what I've got to do next. Then she drags me around the next corner too, plastering herself against the icy brick. We strain to listen, the soft scuffle of careful footsteps barely audible as they rush to catch us in a compromising position.

A dark shape comes around the corner in a wide loop, and it takes a number of steps before I've tackled him to the ground, his ass hitting the icy pavement and his back and head cushioned by the snow. I go to take a swing, the fury seeping out, when I register the horrified face of Jansen staring back at me.

I barely manage to change my trajectory, burying my fist into the snow beside his head.

"What the fuck, man?" I shout.

"What the fuck me? What the fuck you!" he shouts back.

Then Clara's there, dragging me off my longtime friend, the urge to not pull my punch the next time strong. "Why the hell are you following us? We thought you were Bryce."

He pops up to his feet, trying and failing to brush the snow off his back. "Doesn't that alarm warn you if it's him? Because obviously, it's me, no alarm and all. Didn't I tell you I'd be following, taking pictures?"

"I thought you were joking," Clara says, her hand pressed against my chest likes she's scared I might tackle Jansen again.

"Well I wasn't. I want to make a scrapbook."

His explanation takes all the anger out of me in a swoop of confusion. "A scrapbook?"

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know about you, but this feels like a time in our lives that we're going to want to remember. Maybe not the bad stuff, but the highlights. Your first date is definitely a highlight. Or at least, it looked like it was going to be a highlight. But now I've been lured into a dark corner and assaulted, so who knows if it's still a good memory to keep."

I stand stupefied, but after moment, Clara huffs out a singular laugh. "Jansen, I appreciate the thought, but you can't just trail us in the dark taking photos. It's weird, and honestly, with everything we have going on, it's dangerous. What if Bryce were out here tonight? I don't want to think about you getting hurt, and we didn't know you were here. It could have been hours before we even realized anything had happened."

He tucks his phone into his jacket pocket, his face falling. "I just though it would be a nice memento."

"And it would be. But no paparazzi impersonations going forward. Ask, and we'll figure something out."

He nods, kicking his boots against the icy asphalt. "Got it."

I let out a breath, still not certain what to do with him. He glances at me, his lips twisting. "Sorry I ruined your date."

I'm about to tell him that it's okay, even if I'm still a bit pissed, when Clara tenses up, peering into the darkness back the direction of the restaurant.

"Say Jansen, what are the chances that you brought someone else with you?" she asks as we both take an involuntary step closer to her.

"None. Or at least, nobody that I'd want to be here."

She stands there, and I can see the debate warring in her. Stay and fight, or flee and wonder.

Her shoulders slump, and she takes my hand in hers, Jansen's already grasped in her other palm. "It's late. Let's go home."

I press a kiss to her head, nodding, and the three of us turn and trudge through the scattered lights of the park back to the cars, leaving Jansen at his a half a block before ours.

Once we're safely back on the road, no other unexpected guests popping out, she scoots closer so she can rest her head on my shoulder as we wind through the dark streets. "Even after all that, I had a really nice time with you RJ."

"Me too."

Her lips are soft on my cheek, and I want to pull over, drag her into my lap, and kiss her like she deserves. Instead, I focus on getting back as quickly as possible, words tumbling out of me before I gather them. "I've been thinking about what you said, earlier, in your room, after we, you know." I sigh, mentally berating myself for not collecting my words first. I force them into an order that makes sense. "Tonight, I'd love it if you stayed in my room," I manage successfully.

She nuzzles against me. "That sounds like exactly what I need."

And later, when she falls asleep tucked against me, the low light of the monitor's power buttons keeping the room from fading into pitch dark, I'm once again filled with a sense of awe that I get to be a part of her life. As messy and frustrating as everything is right now, I could never regret her marching through our front door, her smile forced and her eyes a little bloodshot from crying.

Even then, I knew she was going to change things.

She has.

She will.

And I'm going to be with her every step of the way.