They take their time walking home; the party was good but long, and Brad's comfortably exhausted, with Terry's hand in his. Every now and then, he sneaks a look at her in that dress. She looks fucking incredible. His own costume, he has to admit, has been fairly comfortable ( Read more... )

He misses his humvee.

There was something therapeutic about lying there under his victor, chipping away at tar, feeling the ache in his muscles and nothing else. He'd let himself go hollow and numb. He didn't really have that, here. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to retreat. The hurricaine did some damage to his roof, though, and that's where he ( Read more... )

He's not exactly looking for Ray; hanging out with Ray usually just happens. Sit next to a guy for weeks on end and you get to know them better than members of your own family. Yes, Ray talks a lot of shit and, yes, he can be incredibly irritating, but he's also genuinely one of Brad's best friends ( Read more... )

After surfing, he takes his time showering; old habits die hard, and good habits die harder, once learned. The treehouse might be home, but he's just as relaxed here, in this space, which is his and Nate's. It's cosy, one room and the little showeroom; a low wooden bench that serves as a couch loaded up with pillows, a desk and chair, the bed. A ( Read more... )

He's been thinking about this for months. He's been planning it for months. He did this once before, and it ended horribly, ended in the most mortifying, soul-destroying way possible. And that's fine but Jenni has Matt and Brad is not going to let the way that engagement ended rule the rest of his fucking life ( Read more... )

They don't last long at the party after that. Brad's more than ready to go home. He finds Terry and tells her where he'll be and then he waits for Nate with his back to a tree, drink in hand. Sometimes, it amazes him how much his life has changed; his priorities, certainly ( Read more... )

Everything feels in real danger of falling apart. Once upon a time, Brad might have said something glib about hope and expectations, but, now, he finds the whole thing terrifying. He lies with his arm around Nate until he's fallen into an exhausted sleep and then Brad leaves him. His heart and gut pull him towards Terry's, but he knows that ( Read more... )

He finally breaks down a little after it's all done, on his way to Terry's, all of the talking done, for now. He pauses in the shadows from the trees, and a few slow tears run down his face. It's such a fucking unholy mess, and he's in love in too many directions, and it hurts. He pauses, wipes his face with his hands. He's not going to put ( Read more... )

He doesn't even take the time to shower, so he's still greasy from the engine. There's still a fluttering in his stomach, utterly unfamiliar, and he's pretty sure he's thoroughly happy, but it's all so strange. And he needs to talk to Terry. He's pretty sure that if anybody understands the fierce impulse to do not harm to the woman that he loves ( Read more... )

So they don't spend as long at the party as they could. They end up back at Brad's place with a six pack of soda and, more importantly, cake. Brad's pretty sure that Terry would have come home without him tonight, so long as she could bring the cake ( Read more... )