“Tell me more about you.” I was hoping he’d start talking about his love of craft beer like it was a completely original thing to say, or how much he loved to travel to non-touristy places like Jamaica, so I could find something about him unattractive. But, of course, he didn’t.
“Did you know Boden and I share the same birthday?”
“Nope.”
“Well, we do, and this year he bought me an expensive bottle of vodka I’d been eyeing.”
“Wow, he seems really thoughtful and generous. What’d you get him?” He ran his long fingers up and down my arm, making me forget to breathe.
“I got him a whole jar of peanut butter, just for him.”
“That’s adorable.” I closed my eyes, helping me commit the feeling to memory. I wanted to be able to lie in bed and recall his fingers on my arm. I wanted the moment for the rest of my life.
“Yeah, we share a cake and everything.”
“Now, that’s kind of sad.” I grimaced and laughed.
“April twelfth.” He gently nudged my head up with his fingers, leaving tingles where our skin touched, and I met his gaze.
“Hmm?”
“Our birthday is April twelfth. Now you’re invited and it’s not sad.”
“I’ll be there.” I knew he was joking, but I wasn’t.
“You know what I like about you?”
“No. What?” Did that mean he liked me liked me or was that just a rhetorical question?
“You’re sincere. That’s hard to come by. Trust me, I know.”
Who hurt him and how badly? He seemed so…undamaged. “I know too.”
“So, Ollie No-Middle-Name Oxmend—” He called Boden over and completely let go of me, which was an awful thing to do. When the dog shot out of the tree line and returned to us, Brooks clasped his collar to his leash. “Did you grow up around here? What’s your family like?” He began walking back without taking a pause, so I followed.
If there was one thing I really hated, it was to be asked about personal things. Or more specifically, about my family. Scorpios hate to be asked questions, and I wish I could claim that as the only reason why it made me squirm, but it was definitely part of the reason why.
I remained friends with Sadie for this long because she already knew everything. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it would be for me to break in another best friend. My issues were enough to scare anyone away without me having to actually put them all out on the line. But looking at Brooks made me realize that was what I needed—someone who didn’t know it all.
I understand Brooks, by asking me questions, was showing interest, and if I expected to hear his answers I had to be willing to give my own. And I desperately wanted to hear his answers.
“I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“And your family?”
“I’m an only child, and my mom lives in Green Tree, so she’s close. My aunts and uncles kinda live all over the place, so it means traveling to see them. And you?” Did he notice I didn’t mention my dad? Would he ask?
“I knew you were an only child.”
“No, you didn’t.” I found myself raising my eyebrows at him. Was he some kind of psychic or did he just think I was that self-centered?
“I did.” He squeezed the top of my arm and I swear his hand almost wrapped around the whole thing. “You’re mature and independent.”
Saying “Thank you” back seemed like such a bizarre thing to do, but not saying it seemed wrong too. He had my feelings all jumbled. I felt like I could be honest with him, say exactly what I wanted, but that couldn’t have been right. I needed my filter. but I was still questioning everything after I’d run it through it.
“Thanks. So what about you?” I really needed the subject to be back on him.
“I have an older sister and a younger brother. My parents live in Sewickley Heights—that’s where I grew up.”
Of course, the rich neighborhood; it seemed so fitting. I had a picture in my mind of this perfect family with the dog and three kids and nutritious dinners every night around the table. It was all very Norman Rockwell. The picture perfect life for this picture perfect man.
“Middle child. What does that say about you?”
“Psychologically? That I should have an inferiority complex and constant underlying resentment toward my siblings and probably my parents too. Not that I’ve looked into it.” The playful conspiratorial look he gave me was a masterpiece.
I shook my head. “I think it means you’re able to be fair and play the peacekeeper.”
“I like that. But don’t go asking my brother or sister about it.”
I wondered what his younger brother must be like. He was probably still older than me, even if he was younger than Brooks. God, if they looked alike I didn’t think I could handle it. I didn’t think the world could handle it. Maybe they were brothers who were nothing alike. In fact, they had to be. No one else like Brooks could exist.
And his sister, if she looked anything like him, was probably stunning. Maybe she was married. Maybe she had kids. Was Brooks an uncle? The thought of him holding a baby made my uterus hurt even though I never considered being a mom in my future. But then, because I couldn’t only think good thoughts, I blurted out—
“Do you have any kids?” I asked just as we were coming up on his house. I knew I shocked him because he almost dropped his keys along with his jaw.
“What would make you think that? All the children running around this place?” He gestured toward the house.
“No, I just…” I suddenly felt so stupid. “Thought you’d have a wife or kids. I mean, you’re just older.”
“I’m old?” His eyebrow shot up and I wondered how weird it made me that I found it sexy.
“I said older,” I clarified.
“So older than old.”
“No.” I laughed. “Stop. But you are older than me.” We began climbing the steps to the porch while I was distracted by his hand on the small of my back. I couldn’t ignore that he hadn’t exactly answered my question. We were both quiet, but I knew the more time that passed, the more awkward it’d be to bring it up again. “So you’re not married?”
“Ollie, no, of course not.”
We halted our climbing with two steps to go.
“Sorry. I just had to ask.”
It was a need. I needed to know. Even if I couldn’t put my finger on it, something had to be wrong.
“Don’t be sorry. Unless you’re only calling me old so I’ll give you my little brother’s number.”
“What? No.” Why on earth would I want that? His hand on my back, over the three layers of clothing, was giving me hot flashes like a menopausal woman, and he thought I was trying to get the hook up with his brother? “Were you ever married?”
“No, I never married anyone.” He answered like he couldn’t believe I was asking. “You’ve spent too much time with Sadie and Aaron. In this day and age most people don’t get married until at least their late twenties. Usually older.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“Why not?”
“Come on, Brooks. You’re a total catch.” I couldn’t help but exasperatedly throw my hands up.
He smiled, and if I wasn’t mistaken, blushed. “That’s a compliment, right? Thank you. And did it ever occur to you that I’ve been waiting for the right woman to come along?”
“No, it didn’t.” And it really hadn’t, because that wasn’t how I knew the world to work. In my experiences, men who looked like him and had a healthy bank account didn’t exactly wait for the right woman. Instead they seemed to somehow end up with a hot one.
“Are you married?” he asked.
“Uh, no. Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m seriousing you and I can’t believe that.”
“Well, believe it.”
“Right, I forgot how young you are.”
He was mocking me, which, along with raising his eyebrows at my comments, was something I had him doing a lot. I decided it was definitely his way of flirting and I was definitely enjoying it.
When we finally got to Brooks’s porch, I half expected to see Sadie with her nose pressed against the window across the street. Brooks went right in and let Boden off his leash while I hesitated, feeling like a vampire who needed an invitation.
“Aren’t you coming inside?” He held the door open for me and had a very puzzled look on his handsome face.
Of course I wanted to go in, but it was late. It was after dinner and we already took a walk, plus I had school in the morning and he probably had to be at the hospital. So would coming in be a good idea? No. It wouldn’t be a good idea. We’d talk more only to find out we had absolutely nothing in common or even worse—I’d find out he was more wonderful than I already thought he was.
“Yeah.” I ran inside before I could think too much more about it.
The lights were low and I was wearing mostly black despite the jacket, so I let myself disappear inside the comfort of his home. Brooks was attending to something on the opposite end of the house and hollered for me to wait in the living room.
My head and heart had a battle while I waited for Brooks to come back. I just couldn’t let the “I wouldn’t tell a woman I was trying to date” comment go, despite the fact that he also told me he was trying to be romantic. In true Ollie fashion, I focused on the negative even though I wasn’t sure it was a negative at all.
There was all the touching and teasing to consider. Brooks let his hand linger so dangerously low on my back he was verging on butt territory, and, may I add, he had to slouch considerably to do so.
Why couldn’t I just live in the moment? Why couldn’t I let the little things go? Why couldn’t I just be happy?
I was beating myself up on the couch when Brooks came back into the room.
“Why’re you sitting in the dark?” He brought the lamp to life.
“I didn’t notice,” I murmured. It was hard to bring myself back to the present.
“Ollie Oxmend, what’s wrong?” He could practically see right through me already and it wasn’t fair.
I just shook my head, knowing my voice would give me away, and offered him a weak smile. I’ve never been in a serious relationship where I couldn’t hide behind signing, and even though I could hardly consider Brooks and me in a relationship, that’s what it felt like. Or maybe it was just what I wanted.
“I was hoping you’d sleep in the bedroom tonight,” he said, then added, “The guest bedroom.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me at all that he wanted me to stay, but of course it did. His voice held an edge of hesitation and excitement all at once. Maybe I could read him too.
“I’d like that,” I told him.
“Finally,” he exhaled, confirming my suspicions.
Brooks held out his hand to me and I took it after a second of hesitation. As soon as our fingertips touched I felt it, that spark, and in that instant I knew he felt it too. There was no physical reaction, like pulling his hand away, but there was a change that I couldn’t explain but anyone could feel.
He didn’t let go once I stood. We walked hand in hand as he led me up the stairs. The bedroom, based on the glance I got inside, seemed to be across the hall from his. Did you know you could feel a pulsating need to go into someone’s bedroom? Probably. Anyone who has ever had a crush over the age of fifteen knows what that feels like.
He nudged the plain white door on the opposite side of the hall open with his fancy shoe and motioned with his free hand for me to go in—he was careful to keep my hand, though.
I squeezed his palm in excitement.
The windows overlooking the street gave me just a glimpse of Sadie’s, but I tried not to look. The bedroom was mostly empty, but it didn’t quite fit with the theme of the rest of the house. Its delicate black bed was covered with a light teal and baby pink comforter. Not to mention an abundance of pillows.
There was an overly feminine and matching vanity across from the bed with toiletries and a sleep shirt waiting for me on it.
Everything looked and smelled new, like stepping into the bedroom section of Ikea.
I strode over to the vanity, touching various plush surfaces on my way, and Brooks went with me since he still held my hand.
“Were you expecting me?” I asked.
“Yes. No”—he ran his hand through his wavy blond hair—“more like hoping you’d stop by.”
“Did you buy me clothes too?”
“No, but I can.”
“No, no! I was joking. This is more than enough.” I was going to die if he did one more nice thing for me. I wasn’t used to being treated well, let alone exceptionally well. I couldn’t handle it, so I let go of his hand, hoping it would lessen my intense feelings.
“Well, I’ll let you get ready for bed. The bathroom is the next door down, and feel free to use anything you find.”
The way he said it made me wonder if he stocked it with Clean and Clear, Herbal Essence, and whatever else he thought girls liked.
“Thank you, Brooks,” I told him, not knowing what else to say. Thank you wasn’t enough, but saying something else wouldn’t have been right either.
“Goodnight, Ollie.” His voice lowered and he took a step closer.
“Goodnight.”
We stood with only a George R. R. Martin novel of space between us and our gazes locked. I wanted to kiss him, or maybe more accurately, I wanted him to kiss me. Neither of us made a move for a few long and intimate minutes, but I loved the feeling of anticipation. Anticipation and hope is the most devastatingly wonderful combination a human can know.
Then my world was in slow motion, just like it happens in the movies, except it was my real life. Brooks’s blue eyes were locked on my own muddy brown ones while he slowly, very slowly, leaned forward. My heart raced and stopped and fluttered and swelled all at once and I’d never wanted anything more.
At the last minute something changed. I was certain he was going to kiss me, but then he didn’t. He leaned down and wrapped those long arms around me, and after a bit of my disappointment wore off, I threw my arms around him too.
Next thing I knew, my feet were no longer touching the ground, and the way my parts lined with his parts made every centimeter of my skin perk up. I never knew it was possible to feel my limbs so much until that moment.
“Sweet dreams,” he murmured in my ear. His husky tone sent a shiver through my insides as if his breath traveled across my skin. Before anything else could happen, he set me back down and left the room without another word.
I couldn’t move for an absurdly long amount of time because the hug was more powerful than any kiss I’d ever had. It was almost impossible for me to shake the thought of going to his room and crawling naked into his bed, but that wasn’t me, and I knew it wasn’t him, either.
So instead I made the short trip to the bathroom. The wood floor was too cold for my bare feet, and in keeping with his theme, the décor was nonexistent.
Once I shut myself in the distinctly clean-smelling bathroom, I washed my face with cold water. In fact it was nearly freezing. I did that in an attempt to calm down, but that only worked for about thirteen seconds. I was in Brooks’s bathroom as his very welcome guest, and it was all too much. The only things that would’ve successfully got Brooks out of my system were either an ice bath or to get under him, and neither of those were an option at the time.
After I had my freakout moment, I rinsed the washcloth clean so he wouldn’t see all the makeup that came off with it. It wasn’t that easy a task, but it was something that had to be done. My before bed ritual, if I’m in a decent state of mind, included peeling off my false lashes.
There was always something so comforting in the feeling of the adhesive unsealing the fibers from the lashes—like peeling off dried glue, but better. As I went to remove them, I stopped. I hadn’t brought extras, thinking I was only spending a few hours with Sadie and switching to my clutch for the night, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of not wearing them. The magic only worked if they were on my eyes.
Leaving the lashes on, I brushed my teeth and pulled my hair back in an attempt to look effortlessly beautiful in case Brooks decided to crawl into bed with me. I knew he was too much of a gentleman to do such a thing, but a girl could fantasize.
Pausing only for a second at his door, I pressed my ear to it. Maybe if I heard a TV or some sounds I could justify knocking, but I didn’t hear a peep, so I continued on my way to my bedroom, feeling almost relieved.
After I shed my clothes for the t-shirt and fell onto the marshmallowy bed, I pushed my arms under the pillows in my signature move and felt something scratchy and out of place for the otherwise comfy bed. Flipping up the pillows, I found a price tag Brooks had neglected to remove.
I yanked it off and walked it over to the small plastic trashcan by the door. That’s when I noticed, lying in the otherwise empty basket, a receipt that I couldn’t help but look at. The receipt listed every item in the room—bed, comforter, vanity, and all—and was dated from just four days before.
It hit me then, and I don’t know why it didn’t before. The black was an obvious choice. Anyone who ever met me could tell from my usual black on black uniform that black was my color. But it took a keen eye to know my accent colors were usually teal and pink. It could be something as small as the studs in my ears or the hair ribbon tied around my wrist to my shoes or headband, and Brooks noticed that.
A toothbrush was one thing, but a bedroom set was another. I held the rather hefty bill to my heart and couldn’t help but smile. As I tucked it inside my purse, because I wanted to remember that feeling forever, I realized something else. Brooks wanted me to stay. He wanted to spend time with me. He went out of his way to make his home comfortable for me. Those were things I thought were only possible for other girls. The beautiful people with shiny hair and picture-perfect lives. Not me.
Brooks thought so, though. And if he could feel that way about me, then maybe, just maybe, I was destined for a beautiful life.