Brandon chuckled and nodded his head. "Dead serious," he told her honestly. "That's what I was thinking too. I'd say that talking runs in that family's bloodline, but the boy cousin is either really standoffish or really rude, so..." Not that it was a huge deal, but none of them had ever really thanked him for saving the girl's life. Except Rae. She'd profusely thanked him. He didn't really care so much about gratitude, it just would've been kind of nice.
At the comment about he and Silas hooking up drunkenly, Brandon stared wide-eyed at her. "You're shitting me. Chicks actually hope for that shit?" He knew that she was joking, so he played into it, let the joke further itself. "Yeah, no drunken hookups with other dudes and no tights for this guy. I was thinking of going to that costume party as like... Zorro or maybe Jack Sparrow or something." Jack Sparrow. He didn't really have the hair for that one, but chicks dug pirates, right? "You going to the party?" If she said no, he's tell her who and what the party was for. Maybe that'd change her mind. But somehow, he had a feeling she was going.
"He always diverted the chick attention to me, though. 'Cause even though I'm better looking, most chicks always seem to gravitate toward the fucking taken ones." It had always been that way for some stupid ass reason. Chicks seemed to gravitate toward the unavailable or otherwise uninterested. Like this one girl who, though Brandon was always single, never seemed to get that he just wasn't into her. "Except the desperate ones. They'll just throw themselves at anyone," he added with a wry little laugh. "I'm pretty sure most of them died off early, though." With a little grin, he looked at himself again and nodded his agreement. "The glamorous look works for you. If we're not the most stereo-fucking-typical people out there, I don't know who are," he added with a little laugh. "A chick who likes glamor and a dude who doesn't care." He was amused, he couldn't help it.
He shrugged again. "Hey. It takes a man who knows who he is to be comfortable wearing shit that most dudes wouldn't wear." At least that was how he'd always seen it. "Skinny jeans are where I draw the line though. My junk has never done anything wrong to me, so why would I cram them into a pair of pants that has no purpose fitting on any dude?" he asked with a grin.
Comments like that were usually why he made fun of Rae, and yet, coming from Bea they weren't as annoying. He was fucked. So fucked. "Long as you don't attack me with hair dye, we're fine," he joked. "Eh, I don't mind. You're cute when you talk fashion shit," he said, not realizing that he'd said cute, instead of something else. "Like I said, though, we're cool as long as you don't treat me like a fucking Ken doll."