Page 64 of Daring Destiny
He looks up as I walk in. The moment he sees me, his whole face lights up. Brennan’s lopsided, boyish grin melts me every time.
“Hey.” He strides to me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Surprise.”
I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by how thoughtful he is. I cup his face in my hands, brushing my thumb over his cheek. “You did all this? I thought I was picking you up at the airport.”
“Ah, no big deal.” He leans down to kiss me. Our lips meet. It’s a gentle, lingering kiss which melts the distance between us away. “I figured it was a better way to spend our night than a rushed car ride home from the airport. Plus, we haven’t had a proper date in a while.”
Relief and joy wash over me in waves. He planned all this? After the way I acted the last time I saw him and the things I said? The way I blew him off? “I love it.”
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers into my hair. “Let’s eat. Then we can talk. There’s…a lot I want to say.”
We pull back and he brushes a thumb over my cheek, wiping away the tears escaping from the corners of my eyes. “Go get comfortable,” he says softly. “I’ll pour the wine.”
I nod and slip away to the bedroom, changing out of my work clothes into my favorite soft joggers and t-shirt. As I smooth my hair back, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and take a deep breath.
Whatever this night is, it feels important. Like a chance to start fresh.
When I return, the wine glasses are filled and he’s lit candles. My dining room is a cocoon of warmth and light. Brennan pulls out my chair and we settle in for our date.
“This is amazing,” I look at the spread. “Did you plan all this to woo me? Tell the truth.”
I’m not kidding. The food smells incredible — roasted duck, a delicate salad with beets and goat cheese, and a perfectly crusty baguette with French butter.
“Maybe.” His expression softens. “I wanted us to have a night where we could be together. Talk. Away from everything else.”
I sip the wine and let the soothing warmth spread through me. “This is perfect. Do you want to start?”
Brennan hesitates and looks down at his glass. Flicks his eyes back up at me. “I’ve thought a lot about what happened at brunch with your parents. And, well, a lot of other things too. I want to make sure we’re okay.”
I wince at the memory of the awful, tense meal flashing through my mind. I haven’t seen or spoken to my parents since. “We’re fine. I was upset, but I think I understand why you didn’t tell me.”
“I still should have. Even if I was afraid it would change things between us, I don’t want you to feel left out of my life.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I try not to let stupid labels bring me down. On the other hand, I should have connected the dots better. You thought I didn’t trust you and it’s never been the case. I’m ready to tell you everything, if you’re willing to listen.”
I set my fork down to give him my full attention. “Please.”
Brennan takes a deep breath, like he’s gathering the courage to say whatever’s been weighing on him.
“When I was in undergrad, I may have mentioned this before in passing, but I thought I was in love with a girl in my programming class. We started sleeping together. I lost my virginity and…uh, well, Ithoughtwe were a couple. Later, I found out she was fucking other dudes too, so I broke it off.” Brennan scrunches his lips. “Suddenly, all her friends wanted to fuck me. I thought I’d hit the jackpot, honestly. It was such a change from high school. It was great for a while. I had a lot of sex. Then, I found out it was all some kind of fucking joke. I was ‘the retard with a big, thick…’”
“Dick.” I huff out a breath.
Brennan’s eyes widen. “Well, cock or eggplant emoji, but same difference. It hurt me to the core. I always recognized I was different. I’d heard ‘nerd’ and ‘geek’ a million times but, to my knowledge, no one ever overtly implied there was somethingwrongwith me.”
“Oh, B.” I squeeze his fingers because I remember how Jake would talk about Brennan and his friends. “I hope you didn’t take that shit to heart. What dumb-asses.”
“Sadly, I did. I was depressed and didn’t want to tell anyone what went down. Least of all Connor, who was busting his ass to pay for my college. Eventually, when my thoughts turned a bit…dark, I went to the counseling center to find a therapist.” He nods to himself. “I was diagnosed with a form of neurodivergence called hyperfocus. There’s more sensitivity around it now, but at the time it was characterized as being on the ‘spectrum.’” He sighs heavily. “I was devastated because it felt like they confirmed there was something wrong with my brain. It seemed like such a stigma, I didn’t wantanyoneto know.”
I look into Brennan’s beautiful, brown eyes and want to take every ounce of pain he’s ever felt away from him. “I did some research. It sounds like when you get absorbed in something, you lose track of everything else.”
“Time, hunger, even people. It’s why I’m able to code for hours on end without stopping, but it’s also why I sometimes forget to check in, or why I get so fixated on things I can’t let them go.” Brennan sounds as if he’s reassuring himself.
I try to process how it must feel. “So, it’s like you disappear into it?”
“Kind of.” He quirks his lip. “It’s more like tunnel vision. I can be so deep into a project, everything else fades away. When I’m in that headspace, I’m truly not ignoring you. I docare. I lose track and sometimes can’t break free. My brain works in mysterious ways. I’m sorry if I need a reminder to get in touch, it’s not personal. I don’t want you to think it’s because I don’t love you. I do. More than anything.”
I gesture to the fully catered dinner spread out over my dining room and the ice bucket with a bottle of wine chilling next to us. The vase of fresh flowers. “B, look at what you’ve done. Of course I know you love me. I was having a bad moment because of my own situation and took things out on you without thinking. I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” he murmurs. “I only want you to feel special.”