I tense when we walk through the doors that I just saw the mystery woman walk through. He walks me down the hallway, passing auditoriums filled with different instruments and classes being conducted. He stops us in front of a wall, filled with pictures of professors and deans, current and past. A picture of a cleaner, more well-kept version of Vince is positioned high on the wall with the label ‘Dean Vince Carsen’ under it.

“Obviously, you already figured it out. Vodka Vince is my dad,” he says and I see him wince, referring to his father by that name. “He chooses to live on the streets instead of staying with me or Maura. He worked here until last year, but when the drinking got too bad, they forced him to retire. They tried to work with him, but he left them no choice.” His voice is quiet. Staring at the wall, I notice the picture of the woman that just walked in. She looks a couple years younger in her picture, which identifies her as Professor Jeanine Billings.

“Who’s that?” I point to her picture on the wall. I pray he tells me the truth.

“It’s Kara’s mom,” he informs me.

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. I hope the mother doesn’t feel the same way about Brady as her daughter.

“Yeah, I’ll get to all that in a second,” he assures me. “So, my dad has always enjoyed his cocktails but became a full-fledged alcoholic after my mom left us. I was sixteen when it happened and Maura was completing her doctorate. Although she lived at the house, she was rarely home. She and Brandan, her husband, had just met so she spent most of her time with him, leaving me with my dad. I kept his secret the best I could, taking care of him and getting him to bed. At first he could function during the day, only getting smashed at night. Like the movie “Groundhog Day”, he would wake up and do the same thing the next day. But then it got out of control. He stopped coming home at night and then a year and a half ago, he left all together, living in shelters and on the streets. The only time I see him now is when I come to visit him here or get a call from the police. Maura and I run interference the best we can, but he refuses our help in any way and won’t go to rehab.” He walks me out of the building and I see his car parked in the lot. “Will you come with me?” he asks.

“Always,” I try to reassure him, squeezing his hand in mine.

We get in his car, unsure of where we’re going. “I’m sorry, Brady, for what you have to go through.” I don’t want to try to solve his problems, I just want to listen.

“Thank you. I handle it better now. When I saw you leave money for him that day, I wanted to run over there and rip the money from him. I knew what he would use it for. That’s why I told you to stay away. I didn’t want you wasting your money or your time on him.” Anger fills his voice. We sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes until Brady starts talking again. “He told me about you,” he says, his voice a little calmer.

“He did?” I ask, shocked.

“Yeah, I guess after he saw you with Grant, he asked him and Grant told him we were together. He really likes you.” He looks my way, giving me a half smile.

“I like him, too,” I say.

“Thanks for getting him the coat and stuff. I try to get him to stay in shelters during the winter, but he’s stubborn and you have to be sober and usually…he isn’t.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Where does Grant come into this?” I ask.

“Oh…well, that brings up a whole other problem.” He turns his face to me and then starts. “Grant and I were friends since childhood. Up until my mom left, we were inseparable,” he confesses, and I notice we’re pulling up to his house.

“What happened then?”

“His dad was a professor of music as well. Long story short, my mom left with his dad. They were having an affair. Grant’s mom died a few years before, so my mom and dad would go over and help Grant and his dad out. I guess somewhere during that time, they fell in love or some shit.” The anger in his voice appears again. “They decided to move to Florida and Grant didn’t want to go down there so he stayed up here. My dad let him live with us, but I was so pissed at him for what his dad did that he eventually moved in with Kara’s parents. That’s where she comes in. All of our parents were professors of music and we’ve known each other our whole lives.” Finally, I have some answers.

“I saw you earlier, with Kara’s mom,” I admit.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He looks curious but then understanding dawns on him.

“Oh shit, Sadie. I was just telling her about Kara calling me all the time. She said she would talk to her. I swear to you, nothing is going on there.” He shakes his head, exiting the car and walking to my side to escort me out.

“I have one more thing to show you,” he says and takes my hand, leading me into the house.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You’ll see.” I’m happy that none of the guys’ cars are in the driveway. “Good, I think we are alone,” he says, as though he read my mind.

He pulls me up the stairs until we are outside of the door that leads to the third floor. “I lied to you about this.” He stares down at me, but I nod my head in understanding. Then he puts the key in the lock and turns the knob. He moves so slow and hesitant, I’m not quite sure he’s ready to show me this. Walking up the stairs, a musty smell fills my nostrils. Once we get to the top, I find a master suite that covers the whole top level of the house.

There is a king size bed, dressers, and an armchair and ottoman. There are built-in bookcases in a small corner, filled with books from top to bottom. It’s an amazing room and I automatically envision what it would be like to live in this house with Brady.

“This was my parents’ room. I locked it up after my dad left because I didn’t want anyone else going in there. I don’t want any more lies or secrets between us, so I wanted to show you so you knew the whole truth.”

“It’s beautiful, Brady.” I walk around the room, admiring the space.

“Think about it, Sadie. This could be our room.”

I turn around quickly and wonder how the change of topic happened so fast. “Brady, I told you. I have to stand on my own,” I say, hating to turn him down again.

“You can stand on your own while being by my side. Just keep thinking about it.” His head is down now, staring at the floor.

“I promise, I won’t.” I walk slowly toward him.

“I want you with me,” he says quietly.

“Brady, I’m with you. But I don’t want you to wake up one day thinking ‘Why did I let this crazy girl move in here?’” I say, placing my hand on his cheek.

“You just don’t get it, Sadie. In my whole life, I have never felt like this. Since that moment I saw you, I felt like there was a purpose in my life. I no longer feel alone and I never want that feeling to leave.” He places both his hands on either side of my cheeks. “I knew I was no good for you, but I was too selfish to stay away,” he whispers and bends down to kiss me.

His confession reminds me of the lyrics to one of the songs that he put on my iPod: ‘I now walk alone…’

“Brady?” I ask while he rests his forehead on mine.

“Yeah.”

“When you told me you have never written a love song, what did you mean?”

“Exactly that. I never wrote a love song…at least at that point, I hadn’t,” he answers, smirking down at me.

“Those songs you put on my iPod, they were slow love songs,” I softly argue.

“No, they were slow songs but there was no love in them. I wrote those songs out of pain, not love.” He starts to kiss my neck.

“Oh, and here I thought some girl had completely destroyed you,” I say.

“You’re the only girl that could destroy me,” he admits and I capture his lips.

“I love you,” I murmur against his mouth.

“Say it again,” he requests as his lips make their way down my neck.