Eighteen ~ Hypocrite

"What the fuck?"

My hand gripped the wooden door frame for support as I trembled in the entrance to the dining room.

Like two people who'd been caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing, Austin and Brooke leapt apart. Brooke had the decency to look embarrassed as she slid off the table and smoothed down her dress, her cheeks flushing and her eyes cast downwards.

"Rosalie." His voice soft, Austin glanced towards the open door I'd just stepped through. "Fuck, listen, I can explain—"

"How long has this been going on for?" I stumbled over my words, still unsure whether to be more outraged or shocked.

Realising that my nails were beginning to make small indents in the wooden beam, I released the doorframe, took a deep breath and stood up straight. I'd drank a lot tonight, but alcohol wasn't to blame for the nausea in my stomach.

Mia. God, poor Mia.

"It's not like that," Brooke said. "It just happened and—"

"Look, I can explain." Austin placed his hand on Brooke's wrist to silence her, before thinking better of it and running his fingers through his hair instead. "Hear me out, Rosalie."

With a quick glance over my shoulder to check nobody else had gathered wind of our confrontation, I took one step closer to Austin, my legs like jelly.

"I hope you have a damn good explanation," I said, "because there is no way I'm going to bed tonight without Mia knowing about this."

His eyes widened, face paling. "No! Please. I really like Mia. Honestly, I do. I'd have slept with her by now if I didn't."

"What a gentleman." I scoffed, folding my arms and scowling.

"No," he said again, rubbing the heel of his hand into his forehead. "This is coming out wrong. Please, stop glaring at me. You're making me nervous, and I won't be able to explain if I'm fumbling over my words."

"You're gonna be a lot more nervous when you explain this to Mia."

He sighed and dropped his hands back to his sides. "Okay... The reason I haven't pushed to go further with Mia—romantically or physically—is because Brooke and I hooked up last year. It's not happened since. Except for, well, you know, now." He glanced across at her. "And I didn't mean for it to happen—neither of us did."

I turned my attention onto Brooke, who stood a few feet away, hands clasped together. She shook her head to confirm Austin's statement, ebony curls bouncing off her shoulders as she did so. But that didn't sit well with me.

"Of course not," I said, not concealing my sarcasm. "After all, hooking up with your friends is slutty, right, Brooke?"

She closed her eyes, sighing. "I only said that because I was so embarrassed at what I'd done. Austin didn't want anything serious when we hooked up, and I knew he liked Mia, but I went there anyway because I thought he might change his mind. Do you know how shit it is to like someone and then find out they want to be with someone else?"

Her comment hit a little too close to home, but that did mean I could understand her. No wonder she disapproved so vocally of Mia's flirtations with Austin; Mia was Austin's first choice. Brooke was just a girl he'd used.

"I can't excuse what happened tonight," Austin said. "But this thing with Mia is reaching the point of no return. I want to be with her, but I can't let anything happen unless she knows about Brooke, otherwise the guilt would kill me. And when she finds out about Brooke, she's gonna run a mile."

"So, in the meantime, you'll continue hooking up with Brooke because that's the easy option?"

"No," they both said in unison.

"I'm not a fool, Rosalie," Brooke said. "This was a moment of weakness. We've both had a lot to drink, and it just happened. I'm not proud of it."

"Mia deserves to know," I told Austin.

"It'll ruin everything if I tell her."

"Stop being selfish. You've already risked ruining everything by flirting and leading her on if you've got no intention of it going further. Have some integrity."

"Integrity? A bit hypocritical, given you almost cheated on your boyfriend last month."

"Oh, get over it," I said, raising my voice. "This isn't about me."

"I'm just saying you have no right to lecture me on being honest when you're hardly perfect."

"It doesn't matter if I'm perfect or not. I'm looking out for Mia. And nothing happened with Brent, anyway. I told my boyfriend about it, we sorted it and that's that. It's not like we slept together—"

"Only because he rejected you."

Our voices had become louder, but now silence filled the air. Arguing with Austin should have been strange, considering his usual laid-back attitude. It didn't, though. Maybe my patience with him had worn thin for Mia's sake, and I imagined he was only being a dick to me because he felt guilty and defensive.

"What the hell is going on?"

The three of us spun around to see Brent hovering in the doorway, all traces of his earlier smile now non-existent as his narrowed eyes flickered between Austin and Brooke.

"Austin's an arsehole, that's all," I muttered, looking anywhere but at Brent since I couldn't bear the thought of him overhearing what Austin had said.

"Please tell me this isn't what it looks like." Brent's voice was quiet, but the deadly underlying tones made it echo around the room.

Brooke fidgeted, running her hands over the pleats in her skirt, before blurting out, "I need to go to the bathroom."

As she attempted to squeeze past Brent, though, his hand darted out to grab her wrist, while his eyes remained focused on Austin.

"I swear to God," Brent said, "I am not going to ask twice."

Austin sighed, crumbling under Brent's intense stare. "It's not a big deal. This was the first time it's happened since last year."

"Not a big deal?" Anger seeped into his words as he lost his notorious composure. "Do you think Mia will feel that way?"

Averting his gaze, Austin shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels.

"I've had your fucking back this past year," Brent said, lowering his voice. "I've watched you and Mia, and I kept my mouth shut. Do you have any idea how she feels? Do you have any idea how I feel when she's spilling her heart out to me and I have to pretend I don't care?"

"Come on, man, calm down... I swear this is the only time it's happened since—"

"You're a disgrace, Austin," he said. "She deserves better."

Austin hung his head and said nothing. The pieces started to come together in my head. No wonder Brent hated the idea of Mia and Austin. He knew all along that Austin was hiding the truth about Brooke.

Realising he had Brooke's wrist still clutched in his grasp, Brent let go and murmured an apology. She glanced towards the door, as if debating whether to continue her escape attempt, but turned to face a sulking Austin instead.

"Um, Austin, you know, maybe we should tell Mia together...?"

Austin shook his head. "No. I'm the one who's screwed up. I'll tell her."

He paused before leaving the room, as if trying to pluck up the courage to say something else to Brent. The lifeguard's tense posture seemed to put him off, though, and he followed Brooke out.

As soon as they'd left, Brent yanked out a chair and collapsed onto it, resting his elbows on the table and burying his head in his hands. I couldn't tell if he wanted to be alone, and I felt awkward standing there witnessing his fury, but I also hated the idea of walking out when he was clearly upset.

I sank into the seat next to him. When he didn't tell me to piss off, I took it as a sign that he wasn't averse to company. Besides, I couldn't leave until Austin had confessed to Mia. He needed to be the one to do it. And I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut.

During my train of thought, Brent lifted his head to stare across the room. His hands rested on the table, his long fingers slightly intertwined. For a fleeting moment, a powerful urge to reach out and touch him overwhelmed me, desperate to offer comfort. Knowing I needed to resist that temptation, I placed my own hands in my lap, out of harm's way.

I searched for something to say, but how do you reassure someone who's got so many barriers? Not to mention that he'd probably overheard Austin's accusation about the night I invited him in, so that lingering issue made it even more awkward.

"It must be pretty shit," I said. "You know, keeping a secret for so long and then for Austin to do it again..."

"I take respect seriously," Brent said. "I had his back because he swore it'd never happen again. It makes me feel like I chose the wrong side. I should have told Mia straightaway. She's going to be mad at me for not being honest with her."

"She'll forgive you. Mia's not the type to hold grudges. And she'll understand you had her best interests at heart. You put your faith in Austin to make things right, and he let you down."

Brent's head snapped around to look down at the tabletop, and I realised with horror that I'd instinctively moved my hand to rest on top of his.

Tension hummed between us, the heat from his skin warming my body and thickening the air. More time passed without Brent moving, and the longer my hand lay on his, the more awkward it became to acknowledge it and pull away. The aching feeling in the pit of my stomach offered a definitive confirmation of the fears I'd been trying to justify.

"I don't know what'll happen when you go back to London," Brent then said. "She's become very fond of you."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying not to think about it, either."

At a pace slow enough to give me ample time to pull away if I'd wanted, Brent turned his palm face up and threaded his fingers through mine. As his thumb brushed my knuckles, my mouth dried up and my heart thudded so violently in my chest that I worried he'd hear it.

My hand felt tiny in his—tiny but protected. Because that's what Brent did. He kept people safe. Just not usually with this level of intimacy attached.

Although his thumb still caressed the top of my hand, his mind seemed elsewhere, a gentle frown wrinkling his forehead beneath the dark wisps of hair.

"She'll be okay," I said. "She's strong."

"Hm?" His eyes locked onto mine.

"Mia. She liked Austin, but at least nothing ever happened between them. She'll be disappointed, but she'll get over it."

"Yeah. Sorry, I was miles away."

"Thinking about different ways to kill Austin?" I asked, with a small smile to attempt humour.

"It wouldn't be too hard." Brent shrugged. "Swap the red flag for a green one and he can just follow you into the water."

"As long as you promise to rescue me."

"Why change the habit of a lifetime?"

I chuckled, but despite the light-hearted banter, the tension between us grew increasingly intense. Heat from Brent's body infiltrated the air, yet a tingling chill crept down my spine. I'd never felt so alive but didn't dare move or speak for fear of bursting the fragile bubble that shielded us from reality.

"... I didn't want to hurt you."

"Austin, I don't want to hear any more."

Voices echoed around the hallway as Mia and Austin advanced through the house. Brent and I withdrew our hands, the previous tension dissolving as the bubble finally popped.

We hurried from the dining room, last to arrive in the hallway. James stood beside Tariq, who seemed to have paused mid-sip with his lips around the rim of his beer bottle, in order to focus his attention on the developing scenes. Brooke hovered by the staircase, knuckles white as she gripped the bannister. For someone who'd exuded confidence the first time I'd met her, she now resembled a completely different person.

"Please, just let me try to explain once more."

"There's nothing else to explain," Mia said. "I'm not mad. I don't have a right to be mad. But finding different ways to phrase the truth won't change anything. I'm just exhausted and want to go to bed."

"Let me walk you home, then. Please."

Mia had made it clear she didn't want to talk about it anymore, so I ventured towards them and placed my hand on her back.

"You don't need to walk her home," I told Austin. "She can stay here. Everyone's had a lot to drink, so let's call it a night."

Running a hand through his hair, Austin conceded with a nod. "Okay. And on that note, I want to apologise, Rosalie... I said some stupid things in the heat of the moment. I didn't mean them."

I shrugged. "Already forgotten."

He crossed the threshold to step outside. One last time, he turned to Mia.

"You mean a lot to me, Torts. I should have told you that—and everything else—a long time ago."

Mia said nothing, but her slamming of the door spoke volumes. For a few moments, she remained there, staring at the closed door. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to face us.

"Who else knew about it?" Her eyes flickered between all her friends.

James and Tariq shook their heads frantically, eyes wide, but Brent cleared his throat.

"Just me," he said. "I'm sorry."

The tick of the hallway's clock bounced off the walls of the silent room as Mia looked at him. With an impressive amount of courage, Brent kept his own eyes focused on her, too, his usual expressionless face much more tender.

Breaking eye contact and releasing us from the tense confrontation, Mia marched towards the staircase. She paused partway up to remove her heels, then continued at a faster pace until she reached the top and disappeared out of sight.

"Should I talk to her?" Brent asked me, his fingers caressing his chin.

No doubt it was his idea of Hell: comforting a girl who was a mixture of angry and upset. Being a good friend to Mia, though, he obviously felt obliged to do something.

I shook my head. "No. She probably just wants to be alone right now."

Brent nodded and everyone began their polite goodbyes, taking my cue that we should call it a night. My feet itched to follow Mia upstairs, but I needed to clear out the rest of the group first.

"Thanks for talking," Brent said, keeping his voice low as he paused in the doorway. I wasn't sure if he said it quietly because he only wanted me to hear, or if he was back to being his usual brooding self.

"No problem," I said with a smile, trying to remain as friendly as possible in front of everyone else.

I didn't move to hug him. A spontaneous spate of handholding to offer comfort was one thing. Hugging suggested something different, a closer familiarity that would have been odd considering Brent shied away from physical contact. Plus, wrapping my arms around his warm body with his hard muscles pressed against my front would be a sensation I'd be better avoiding.

He continued to linger in the doorway, though. his broad frame spanning the gap, as if waiting for me to make a move. It wasn't until Brooke ushered him out that he took off down the path.

Mia was lying on my bed, still clothed, when I finally got into my room.

"Did you hook up with Brent?" she asked.

"No."

"Shame. I was hoping at least one of us would get some action tonight."

I perched on the edge of the bed, looking out into the darkness through my open balcony doors. Small gusts of wind rustled the curtains, and I hoped it was just a nightly breeze rather than the start of another storm.

"I'm not sure I'm his type, Mia, even if I was available."

"It's not about types. He hasn't been with a girl in a while and he needs one of two things: either something casual so there are no complications, or someone he can trust with his life."

"That's one extreme to another," I said.

"Yes, and you'd fit the bill for both."

I rolled my eyes. "I think it's time to get ready for bed now."

Mia's words played on my mind as we changed. Using my situation as an example didn't bother me—that was just her typical attitude towards what she considered the answer to all my problems—but the two extremes did.

"Why either someone with no commitment or someone with a lot?" I asked as we climbed into bed several minutes later.

"You've seen what he's like," she said, stifling a yawn. "He's not got time to mess about. There's too much going on in that head of his. Probably why he barely ever talks."

I didn't know if she was joking, but I could see her point. Brent wasn't a man of many words. In fact, our longest conversations had been arguments.

"So, if he did get involved with someone," Mia said, "she'd have to cause zero problems for him, either by presenting no emotional attachment, or by presenting a strong emotional attachment. He spends his life looking out for people. He needs somebody who'll look out for him for a change."

I'd told myself I wouldn't cheat on Alastair, that I wouldn't sink to his level of despicable behaviour, so it shouldn't make a difference whether I fitted into either of those two categories for Brent.

It shouldn't. But it did.

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