Brendan (The Doherty Mafia Book 4) by Kasey Krane (summer reads TXT) 📗

to him. I buried my face in the crook of his elbow, breathing in the scent of him. It was a mixture of his cologne, beer and the masculine smell of him. It was exactly how I remembered it from four years ago.

I had to close my eyes.

Brendan kissed my lips lightly and when I opened my eyes again, it seemed like he had already drifted off to sleep. I kissed him back, despite myself. As much as I tried to keep telling myself this was temporary, I couldn’t help but be hopeful.

But what was I hoping for?

The facts hadn’t changed. Neither had our past. Nothing that happened between us tonight would change what had already occurred four years ago. Whether or not he returned to the house looking for me, I had already walked out of there. I had already made the decision to forget about him and move on.

Petra had warned me—the Dohertys were trouble. As sexy as the bad-boy appeal was, realistically, I was better off without being involved with him. Besides, it didn’t look like he was interested in me. As far as I knew, he had abandoned me.

And everything that happened after that was the truth. We couldn’t simply erase the past and its consequences by having sex now.

I stared at Brendan as he slept beside me. He looked so big and heavy in my puny bed, taking up all the space. But I didn’t care.

Only for tonight, I wanted to be snuggled up into him. I basked in the glory of feeling cared for and wanted.

I tried to fall asleep. I knew I was exhausted from a full day’s work. But I couldn’t sleep. Not when Brendan was in bed with me.

I hadn’t slept that night either, after I returned home from Mia’s party. I had spent the whole night fantasizing about him the way I was now. The only difference was that I was alone that night, but I wasn’t now.

I noticed a change in myself about three weeks after the night of the party.

All my college applications had been sent off and I waited to hear back from schools I wanted to get into. My mother was so proud of me for making it that far.

We’d shared a complicated relationship in the past. She had struggled to raise me as a single mother. I had struggled with the concept of being abandoned by my father. I never really got along with any of the other men in mom’s life.

However, despite everything we had endured, finally, I was about to go off to college and follow my dreams. Mom was convinced I was going to make it big. I was going to study architecture and design tall buildings and bridges. She told everyone she knew.

I’d spent those three weeks after Brendan trying to forget about him.

After all, I would go off to college soon. My life would completely change. I convinced myself that I would meet way more interesting and sexier people once I was a college student. Very soon, Brendan and our short encounter would be history.

And yet, I kept having that nagging feeling inside me. For some reason, I couldn’t shake off the idea that he was one-of-a-kind.

I hadn’t noticed my loss of appetite until one day I woke up in the morning and ran to the toilet because I was going to get sick.

It only took me a few minutes of staring at my reflection in the mirror when reality hit me like a lightning bolt.

I made some calculations in my head. I was late by at least a week. I felt sick at the thought of food. I was throwing up.

I told nothing to no one, but went to the drug store and bought every kind of pregnancy test they had.

And each one of them came back with the same positive result.

I was pregnant, and there was no denying it.

The other fact there was no denying—was that Brendan was the father of the child growing inside me. I created a Doherty.

I waited several days to tell Mom, not being able to work up the courage to do it.

Finally, a letter of acceptance arrived from my college of choice. Mom opened it and read it aloud, a single tear of joy slipped down her cheek as she read the words. I had done it. I was accepted into college.

But I cried too, and unlike Mom, I wasn’t crying happy tears. I felt nothing to be joyful or proud about. I was pregnant. I wouldn’t be able to go to college. The father of this child was a one-night-stand.

A guy I knew nothing about. Who had probably already forgotten about my existence.

Mom thought it was a joke at first. Then she cried, then she held me and said it would be all right. She had been in my place after all. She understood.

“You can do it, Rosalie. If I could do it, you can do it better,” Mom had said that day.

She never asked who the father was. Maybe she sensed I didn’t intend on discussing it. Petra went off to college and we lost touch.

And just like that, I never spoke of Brendan again. On a good day, I was able to completely forget him—even when I looked at Davey’s face.

But now he was there in my bed. Next to me.

It wasn’t going to last. I had to put an end to it.

Sixteen

Brendan

I woke up the next morning in Rosalie’s bed.

I didn’t usually wake up in someone else’s bed. It wasn’t my thing.

But when I opened my eyes and saw that I had my arms around her perfect naked body, it felt uncharacteristically good. I had no explanation for it besides that I actually liked this girl.

I watched her sleeping for a while. How peaceful she looked with her shining golden blonde hair spread around her face like a halo. She had glorious alabaster skin that made me want to lick her.

I remembered that night now,