Chapter 5

Brenda

The Day After

A loud groan escapes me while I try to suppress the persistent throbbing inside my head. With one eye closed, I dare to open the other, only to be blinded by the morning sun. The harsh rays make it all the more harrowing, forcing me to shut both eyes and hide from the light. I bury my head in the pillow again when a familiar scent lingers in the air. It's one that's burned into my memory. Oh fuck Dylan.

My body jolts upright; eyes wide open as the room slowly comes to full view. It's a hotel room, a fancy one, not identical to mine but similar. I glance down towards the closet. My bags do not sit like they had yesterday. The scent of Dylan is all over me. Shit. This is not my room, this is his room. I look to my right, afraid to see him beside me. But all that lies there is my phone with a text message on the screen.

Dylan: Nothing happened.

It all comes back to me. Well, only part of the night comes back. The rest is hazy. I recall our encounter in the lobby, the uncomfortable exchange in the elevator, and the moment he told me he hadn't moved on, he hadn't forgotten about us.

Unable to handle what went down, there was no way I was going to sit in my own room next freaking door to him. I would have spent the whole night festering over seeing him again. Instead, I called Valerie, knowing she got into LA last night and asked her to go for drinks.

The rest of the night is completely blank. No memory, no recollection of anything. How did I end up in Dylan's hotel room? Please don't tell me I came back drunk and knocked on his door. Please god please please please. I throw myself back into bed, only to hear the churn of my stomach. With only a few seconds to spare, I race for the bathroom and empty last night's contents into the fancy toilet. I spend a long time in there, regretting my actions, of course. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't thinking, just like always when I'm around Dylan.

He is this magnetic force that screws with my capability to make good decisions. It's like nothing else matters, no acknowledging the consequences of my so-called actions.

When I finally peel myself off the bathroom floor. I notice Dylan's bathroom, his toiletries arranged neatly. I grab his toothpaste and quickly finger brush my teeth and let the toothpaste take away the taste of stale alcohol and puke. I glance at his cologne, he wears the same one he used to. I grip the bottle and bring it to my nose. Inhaling the familiar scent that lingers in his hotel room and on his pillow. But this is stronger. I close my eyes masking in it. It brings back a ton of memories, all warm and familiar and safe…loved. I shake my head putting it down, then enter his room. There is nothing to suggest he even stayed here with me. The closet is partially open and I see a plethora of expensive suits but nothing else is out of place.

What are you even thinking I ask myself? You're engaged. You love Austin. You would never hurt him.

Shit! Austin.

According to Dylan, nothing happened. I had to believe him. What other option did I have? It didn't erase the guilt beginning to crawl its way through me and eat away at my conscience. At some point, I would have to tell Austin about last night. I just need to figure out the best time, given he won't be pleased with anything related to Dylan.

I grab my heels that are on the floor by the foot of the bed, my purse and open the bedroom door. I almost drop my heels at the sight before me. Dylan sits at a dining table set up by room service. The smell of coffee and bacon waft toward me almost making me gag.

"Good morning." He looks at me, his eyes over his coffee mug before taking a sip. "Come sit…eat something."

"I shouldn't be here." I say and move towards the table. He smiles at me. That damn fucking smile.

"Sit." He demands, "We should talk. Yesterday was a shock to both our systems and I don't want to leave things that way with you." He lifts his hand to the seat set up across from him. I obey which is fucking weird. I drop my heels to the ground again and sit back. "Coffee?" He hold up the carafe.

I only nod, maybe caffeine will do me good. I watch him make it. 4 creams a packet of sweet N low a dash of cinnamon, he remembers. He smirks like he knows some secret and winks. He holds the cup out to me. The smell of cinnamon fills the air and it makes my mouth water. A memory of Dylan making me this coffee the first time then having his way with me in the shower of our old apartment flashes through my mind. It was feral and hard. I came 3 times in that shower and it makes me squeeze my thighs together. I sigh and take the coffee from him and take a sip.

I close my eyes and practically moan.

"Good?" Dylan is watching me with lustful eyes

"Yes thank you." I try to ignore them.

"Look Bren." His cell phone rings from the table. "I'm sorry, this will be quick." I watch him, he is so business like. He hits speaker to answer the phone, "Dylan McKay."

"Hello Mr. McKay." A women's voice rings through. "Just wanted to tell you I cancelled your 10 o'clock and rescheduled it for next week. Is there anything else you need?" I don't miss the sexual tone in this bitches voice.

"No that's good…thanks Tabitha." He clicks off the phone without saying bye and looks back up at me. "Sorry my secretary, just doing her job."

"Right. Of course." My smile is coerced, only to mumble beneath my breath a moment later, "Probably not the only job."

Dylan does a shit job of hiding the smirk playing on his lips.

"I can assure you she is only performing the work she is paid to do," he tells me with an arrogant tone. "But nice to know some things never change with you."

I ignore the petty comment, a comment trying to say I'm the jealous type, which I always was. It wasn't my fault. Dylan was a ladies man and a complete man whore. Considering he cheated on me with my best friend I had every right to be insecure. I look at him, he is looking at me like he's trying to read my mind and I do my best to ignore how incredibly handsome he looks. Gone is the suit, now he sits in his signature white t-shirt and blue jeans. I try to force myself to ignore how my body is betraying me. He looks like my Dylan.

"How did I get here?" I ask him.

"You and Valerie texted me, she said your were drunk so I wanted to make sure you were safe. I called Anna…she said where you guys were, I went to the club and took you home. Nothing happened, you passed out and I slept on the couch."

"I drunk texted you?" I reach for my phone and read through the message. Phew it could have been much much worse. I sigh out and rest my phone on the table. "Well thank you. I'm not sure what I was thinking, but I should have been more responsible."

"We all make bad decisions." He replies flatly. I stare into his eyes UGH he is an ass.

"Anyway…thanks again."

"Bren." He softens, tapping his hand on the table as if he was nervous or anxious. "It doesn't have to be this way between us."

"Be what way?"

"Strained. Uncomfortable."

"Dylan." I clear my throat, lowering my head while eyeing the floor, "It wasn't easy when you left. In fact, it was the worst time of my life. I just want to make it known I didn't just move on despite what you may think. I didn't just move on with Austin after we broke up."

Dylan stands up from across from me and rounds the table. He is close but keeps an appropriate distance between us."And you think it was easy for me?"

I glance up into his longing gaze. I've seen this look before but under different circumstances. So much has changed, and just because I knew Dylan McKay better than anyone back then, it doesn't mean he is the same man now.

"I never said that. I wouldn't know how it was for you." I admit, scratching the back of my neck while I struggle to find the right words. "Look what you said was right. We used to be friends, practically family and chances are we may cross paths more than a few times while I'm in town. I'm wiling to put the past behind us if you are."

His stare moves towards my hand and at a slow pace, he comes closer, closing the distance between us. My chest begins to rise and fall, accompanied by a flutter inside my stomach. He kneels down beside me. I bite my lip, scared of the power he still holds over me.

My gaze follows the movement of his hand as he reaches out for my own and brings the ring closer to him. His touch is like dynamite, igniting all senses at once. I can't seem to pull away, desperate for his touch, if only for this second. If I just let myself have this moment, allow myself to relive the touch of his hand on my own, then maybe I will satisfy the curiosity, and the feelings will then disappear. He squeezes my hand, rubbing his thumb over it a few times.

"I have no choice," he utters with his stare still fixated on the ring, "You're marrying another man."

His eyes lift to mine. They are pulling me in like a magnet. He looks torn up, sad, no devastated. "It's a beautiful ring. Not what I would have picked for you but it is beautiful." His tone is regretful. I pull back my hand, unsure why my throat closed in and my stomach hardened when he admitted the truth. "I should go." I breathe. Not sure what the fuck I'm feeling at this moment. But I make no effort to move.

He's right, it's not what Dylan would have picked for me, and even though it is a perfectly gorgeous piece of jewelry I can't help but admit in my mind, it isn't me at all. He lifts his hand again, this time cupping my cheek. He looks so broken. I know the feeling and the look because it is exactly the feeling I had when I heard Dylan was getting married. It broke me too. The guilt and being the reason that put that look on his face is suffocating. It's like swallowing poison, a slow and painful spread to the entire body. I shouldn't feel guilty for marrying another man, but here I am questioning my decisions and for what? There is too much history between us, too much pain to ignore, impossible to create something magical again.

The damage is done.

"You love this guy Bren?" His eyes begging for truth, begging for it not to be true at the same time.

"Dylan." I murmur, averting my gaze toward my feet. "I do love Austin, I won't do anything to hurt him."

He smiles a forced smile and shakes his head getting up. "What?" I ask questioning how quickly his expression changed.

"It's just…this is the second engagement I've had to sit back and endure with you. I guess jokes on me, no matter what we've been through, no matter what we felt for one another, it seems I'm always in this position. Would you have married me?" He clears his throat, "If…I would have asked you four years ago?"

"You didn't." I shake my head, not wanting to really answer.

"You know why I didn't."

"Right…your money. You chose your money over me. You gave up on me."

Dylan slams his hand on the table, the glass rattling as I jump from his reaction. He leans forward, his breath in my face. "I don't give fuck about money Brenda, I never have, I would have given it up for you. I left because it was the best thing for you. I was a mess, a fucking mess that caused us to crash in an accident that I thought I lost you in. I wasn't driving but the reason we crashed was because you were so upset with me for drinking again." He leaned in closer. My eyes closed because I could practically feel the ghost of his lips against mine. My eyes open, his gaze so intense it brings tears to my eyes, "I didn't give up on you." He whispers, "I gave up on me." He leans away, breathing heavily, trying to calm down. A tear escapes and runs down my cheek quickly. He looks pained as he notices it. His hand lifts toward me but he takes it back quickly.

My fingers cover my mouth as a sob releases from me. "I'm sorry." He whispers painfully, "I didn't mean to scare you. This is hard for me Bren. It's never felt over with you and…now…it just feels so final. I guess I always thought I'd have time. To become the man you deserved."

I don't say anything. I don't know what to say. "If you love Austin fucking Evans." He grits his teeth, "There isn't anything I can do about it." He turns from me and breathes out loudly. Defeated. "You should go." He says softly. If it wasn't so god damn quiet I may not have even heard it. I nod and grab my purse, phone and shoes. I walk out of room 1128 so fast I practically run. Tears rushing down my face. As soon as his hotel room door clicks shut, my back is to it. Sobs wrack my body and I only want to crumble to the floor.

I don't blame him. I've hurt him. I've hurt the one person who once mattered to me the most. There is no drunken nights or talks with him that can erase that.

Guilt is the thief of happiness, and right now, it has stolen everything I've built to be able to move on from us.

And the worst part is, I have no idea how to make it all go away.

I make it back to my room so I can shower and try to pick myself up. The soft plush hotel robe surrounds me and my hangover is at its peak. I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. My eyes feel heavy and just when I'm about to close them, my phone is buzzing beside me. Brandon's name flashes on the screen.

"What?" I groan, eyes falling shut again. "It's too early."

Brandon chuckles, "It's 1 o'clock. Rough night?" I hear the smile in his voice.

"Ugh. Death to fireball and Valerie." Brandon laughs out loud.

"Speaking of Valerie, she said dad wanted to get together for dinner tonight. You, me, Austin, Val, mom and dad. Think you can pull yourself together by 6?"

I breath out, "I guess and no Austin…he's still in London."

"What? Why?" Brandon is more than confused.

"He had lectures and an interview at the hospital he couldn't miss, he'll be here Friday in time for Malibu."

"Ah that sucks but understandable. Where you staying anyway? You could have stayed at the condo with me. At least I would have you here. Nothing like living with your parents after years of being on your own. I went out to hang with Steve and David last night and mom asked me when I would be home." I chuckle and roll my eyes.

"Somethings never change. Was she up reading that same book she's been reading since junior high?"

Brandon laughs, "She was." His voice smiles, "So where are you staying?"

"The Bel-Age." Silence, it's so quiet I think the phone went dead. "Bran? Did I lose you?"

He clears his throat, "I'm here…the Bel-Age huh. Um Brenda I should probably tell you something."

I roll my eyes again, "What? That Dylan lives here…oh I know."

"You saw Dylan?"

"Oh yes I saw Dylan…I also saw him at the club apparently, after drunk texting him and supposedly I was a hot drunken mess and he had to take me home. I woke up in his hotel room."

"Brenda!" He says stern, his voice laced with disappointment.

"I know Brandon…but it wasn't like that. Nothing happened. Don't make this a big deal." I plead, I was making this a big deal in my mind for both of us.

"Bren." His voice softer now. "I know you're upset."

"I'm not upset, I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You got drunk and texted your ex, who saved you because that's what Dylan does. You fuck up. He comes running."

"Dylan does not come running." I argue back, hurt by his assumption. "And I didn't fuck up. Nothing happened with him or anyone else last night. I love Austin and I'm not gonna cheat on him just because I got drunk one night or my ex just happened to come check on me at the club. Jesus Brandon…give me some credit, will you?"

Brandon sighs, "Dylan is more than an ex. He's the love of your life."

"Correction, Brandon, was." I snap, curling my lip and red in the face. "And why are you team Dylan all of a sudden? You were the one going on about how nice Austin is. Now you're trying to convince me I'm still in love with Dylan? The same Dylan who went out with your almost wife by the way."

"You know what? This is so you Brenda. Always in denial, stubborn as all hell. It's like you can't accept anything in reality. Your life isn't normal unless you are playing in some fucking play, such drama!"

"I'm stubborn?" I yell, "You are too Brandon, you're the one that is still in love with their ex! Let me guess you've already called Kelly to tell her your in LA?"

"God you're a miserable…." I end the call abruptly not wanting to hear the end of that sentence. I flop back onto the bed. Fuck I feel like shit from drinking and the last thing I wanted was to fight with my brother. Especially since I have to see him 4 1/2 hours for dinner and were actually in the same continent for once. It's been awhile since we've argued like that. How dare he say all those things to me? I wasn't some pity case in which Dylan needed to save me. He chose to hunt me down. I did not ask him to rescue me. A knock on my door takes me out of my thoughts. I tie my robe tighter around my body, reaching for the door without looking in the peep hole. I open the door wide and see Dylan standing outside of it. He has a cute smirk on his face but his eyes take in my attire. I cross my arms and roll my eyes.

"Get dressed, you're coming with me." He says as he moves past me not waiting to be invited in.

I take a deep breath and allow the door to close, "Come on Dylan…I'm hung over and I just got in a fight with Brandon…I'm not in the mood."

He turns towards me, "Why are you fighting with Brandon?" His face is one of concern and if I wasn't so weirded out by his presence I'd probably think it was kind of cute.

Considering I can't tell him the reason Brandon and I fought, I paraphrase, "He called me stubborn and dramatic!" I huff.

A wide grin spreads across his face. He waltzes towards me, moving behind me, places both hands on my shoulders and pushes me toward the bedroom, walking behind me. He leans in, his hot breath is on my ear and chills literally run down my whole body igniting me up and covering myself in goose bumps.

"You are stubborn and dramatic." He whispers. I gasp out loud and turn around. I should have thought this through because he is close…way…too…close.

I take a step back, "Why are you even here? You know we didn't have a great talk this morning. You told me to leave!"

Dylan moves that foot towards me, his hands run down my arms sweetly, "I know…thats why I'm here. That was not how I wanted things to go this morning. I wanted to make up. I didn't want to get into the heavy with you. Look we have history, important history and our relationship was not just a sexual one. We were friends Bren, best friends. You and your brother were the only family I had for the longest time. I don't want this animosity between us. So get your cute ass in that bedroom, throw on some clothes and let's go."

I find myself holding back a smile, "Where…where are we going Dylan?" I sigh defeated.

"The beach…of course." He smiles wide and that smile makes me smile. His eyes begging like a cute little puppy dog that needs home.

I toss my hands up, "Fine. Ugh your frustratingly persuasive."

He nods with a cute shrug, "I know babe."

I tilt my head, "Don't call me babe."

"Fine…Brenda." He overemphasizes. "Go!" He yells laughing.

I turn around and feel a powerful swat to the back of my ass. I'm not wearing anything underneath and the slap, hand to ass, makes a loud noise. I yelp. I turn my head and give him the best side eye I have in me, retreating to the bedroom so I can change.

Soon Dylan and I are in a comfortable silence on our way to Santa Monica. I close my eyes and let the warm LA wind blow through my hair. London is an amazing city and I call it home but there is nothing quite like a sunny gorgeous day in LA. I smile memories flooding my mind of when this was home. When I look over at Dylan he's watching me with a smile.

We finally arrive at the beach and he finds parking fairly easy. Dylan opens his trunk and grabs a blanket. We walk down the beach in silence until he finds a good spot, spreads out the blanket and sits upon it. He pats the space beside him.

I sit down and look into the vast ocean. I inhale the smell, taking in the sounds of the crashing waves.

"Welcome home Bren." Dylan says softly and I look over at him. He smiles and then looks into the sea as I was doing.

"I forget how gorgeous it is here. Thanks this is nice."

"No problem…you can't visit LA without coming to the beach at least once. Even though I know you'll be in Malibu this weekend."

My head snaps towards him, "You know about that?"

He swallows hard, "Brandon invited me. Said your dad invited everyone. I tried to tell him everyone didn't include me but sometimes your brother doesn't understand the hatred your dad has for me."

"He doesn't hate you Dylan."

He looks at me like I'm insane and I laugh, "Ok…he's protective."

"He's an asshole. Sorry Bren…but he is."

I nod, "To you I know he is."

We're quiet as we take in the view. "Your dad like Austin?"

I look over at him, I see the pain in his eyes but he tries to hide it. I shrug, "I don't know if like is the right word, he approves I guess. You know my dad. He's still a man trying to take his little girl away."

Dylan nods with a chuckle, "I bet you Jimbo is stoked it wasn't me that asked."

I look at him. Now my eyes are pained, he knows it but I don't say anything and he doesn't continue. "Where is Austin anyway? I have to admit I was nervous coming to your room today. I didn't know if he'd be there."

"He's in London."

Dylan looks at me surprised, "I thought this…was some sort of engagement celebration?"

"Yeah it was…he'll be here this weekend in time for Malibu. He had class and an interview at the hospital. He's hoping to get into the resident program come fall. He'll be a good doctor."

"A doctor…impressive." Dylan rolls his eyes not impressed. I laugh and push him playfully.

"How's acting? How has it been going for the last few years?"

"Really good actually, I just finished a production of Our Town before this trip out here."

"The last play I saw of yours was A Streetcar Named Desire, you put Jessica Tandy to shame in your Blanche DuBois. Even though Kurt CockBlocker was no Marlon Brando."

I laughed out loud with a shake of my head, "Kurt Colkhold was not a cock blocker."

Dylan chuckles, "Yes he was, We were making out, and I wanted to bend you over in your dressing room but that prick wouldn't take the god damn hint after he walked in on us."

I blush and close my eyes with a laugh, "You're right…total cock blocker."

We laugh and laugh and when I look a him he's looking at me with a soft smile. "Good times." I nod.

Dylan shakes his head looking away from me, "The best."

"You still live in our apartment?" Dylan looks at me again, moving his arms to hug his knees. I don't miss him saying "our". He looks so young in this moment. His t-shirt and jeans, flip flops and surf tan. His hair is free of product as it blows in the wind. He looks like the Dylan I fell in love with Sophomore year. Minus the beard of course.

"I do. Crazy Anna as you know still lives next door. Apparently she is dumping her boyfriend, she's bored but you know how that goes."

Dylan smiles, "I do."

I sigh and lay back, closing my eyes. I feel the sun warm against my face. When I open my eyes Dylan is on his elbow looking down on me. I smile, "What?"

He smirks, "I just…didn't get to tell you how beautiful you look. You've grown the last few years. Hard to believe we started this thing of ours when we were just kids. It seems the last two times we've been in the same room together…it just didn't go how I'd imagined it."

"You've imagined it?"

"Haven't you?"

I shrug, "I mean of course I have. I knew it wouldn't be easy."

"True…I guess I pictured something more out of a movie." Dylan laughs, "I know that's lame."

I shake my head, "Not lame." I laugh out loud, "I can picture it now, running towards each other as I jump in your arms." I crack up.

Dylan looks at me, "Okay maybe not that kind of movie, maybe one of those suit porns, that's a thing." He puts air quotes around a thing. "I think I had more of an X-rated idea for our reunion."

I blush then my hands covers my mouth, "Wait…oh my god." I cover my face with my hands, "At the club, I mentioned suit porn didn't I?" I groan so embarrassed I want to die. The drunken memory flashing through my mind.

Dylan is laughing, it's music to my ears. I felt like I haven't heard it in so long. "I mean…we can make a suit porn, if you like that kind of thing." He jokes wiggling his brows seductively.

Roll my eyes and look at my watch, "Shoot. Ready to go back? I unfortunately have to have dinner with my parents, Brandon and Val tonight. I may drink again."

Dylan laughs, "Well you have my number if you need to be rescued."

I breathe out, my fight with Brandon coming to the front of my mind, "I don't need rescuing Dylan. It's not your job anymore."

He looks at me, his eyes full of sadness, "Maybe not…but it doesn't mean I won't." He gets off the blanket and holds out his hand. I take it willingly as he helps me up. He brings it to his lips, kissing it. "Thanks for coming with me, this was fun."

"Thanks for inviting me. Am I going to see you this weekend in Malibu?" I don't know why I ask, to be honest it would be weird if he was there.

Dylan picks up the blanket shaking the sand out from it. "I don't know. When Brandon invited me, I told him I would. Now I don't know, I'm suppose to fly to Hong Kong to talk about a merger. It would make the company worth more money, just don't know if I want to deal with it this weekend and fuck I hate that long flight to Hong Kong."

I smile, "You're the same…but different. I know I gave you a hard time about your money but…I'm proud of you. You're successful. I know he doesn't show it but my dad is too."

Dylan eyes me, "I haven't had a real conversation with your father in four years Bren. Not since he signed over my money and I left London. I don't think he gives a shit what I've done."

My hand moves on its own, like some force moving it for me. The backs of my fingers caress his cheek. He closes his eyes and relishes in it for a second. His hand comes up laying on top of mine. He brings it down and holds it tenderly.

We stare at each other in silence for a minute, until Dylan walks towards me, wrapping his arm around me as we head back to the car. I can't stick up for my father. I know he's overbearing and controlling. I know he unfairly judges Dylan for the mistakes he's made and it took us a long time to have a good relationship again. I blamed my father for many years for losing Dylan. I also know I'm a strong willed woman and my father couldn't talk me into anything unless somewhere in the back of my mind, I agreed. Dylan was a mess back then. He wasn't always but the last year we were together was rough. He spiraled. Taking his money was an easy choice for him because deep down he thought my father was right, he thought I deserved someone better. Now looking at the man he's become, I'm not exactly sure what he thinks now. He has showed me his dislike for Austin, he's shown his disapproval for the engagement. But he hasn't necessarily tried to get me back or anything. I guess I should be happy about that. I think about Malibu and Austin. I tried to call him before my shower but it went to voicemail. I left a message just telling him I had made it to LA fine and to call me when he has time. I assume he's busy prepping for his interview and busy with classes. I find myself thinking about Dylan again. Do I want him to come to Malibu? Part of me does and the other part of me finds the prospect of Dylan and Austin being in the same room together daunting. I don't know what I want. And I think I know that that is a deeper thought than I'm letting on.

Next up…Malibu. I was gonna write the dinner but it would have been uneventful. Brandon apologizes to Brenda, Valerie talks to Dylan and there is a new girl named Gia that causes a slight problem for Brenda's jealous heart. Stay tuned my kids…this story is about to get real…interesting! Drama…Drama…Drama…Review!