Brody
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
“Audrey.” I reached for her but stopped. The look in her eyes said it all. I’d hurt her without even meaning to. The spark that was there before had died as quickly as it lit, and she was shutting down. Shutting me out and closing herself off again. She was insecure enough as it was; she didn’t need me flinching when she touched me.
Hell.
She touched me. Her fingertips were soft and warm on my skin. I didn’t flinch because I didn’t want her touching me. I flinched because I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the feeling of her skin on mine and how she fit perfectly beneath me. The way she wriggled and laughed as I tickled her. The sound was so light and carefree it was shocking. The smile on her face, bright and happy.
I enjoyed it all. Too fucking much.
I didn’t know what happened. Or how it happened. But something had shifted in those minutes in her room. I’d gone in there armed with cupcakes to celebrate her solo public appearance, but when she walked into the room in her pyjamas, I’d lost all train of thought. Shorts that showed off her toned legs, a loose-fitting tank top that barely covered anything, olive skin, scars on full display, and I’d never seen anything sexier. The confidence she had when no one was watching was inspiring. If only I could get her to feel that confident all the time.
“Just go, Brody. Please. I’m tired.” She climbed into her bed, pulling her covers up around her neck.
I couldn’t leave it like that. I couldn’t let her go to bed upset and thinking I didn’t want her to touch me, when all I really wanted to do was run my hands over her skin too.
Christ.
She was seventeen, for fuck’s sake.
If that didn’t scream red flag, I didn’t know what did. She was fragile, impressionable, and not in the best place mentally. I couldn’t be having those thoughts. What the hell was wrong with me? I was not attracted to a seventeen-year-old girl. And I sure as hell wasn’t jealous that she spoke to another guy today. Not at all.
Maybe that was it. Maybe I was jealous that another guy, a stranger, was able to make her feel comfortable enough in his presence that she didn’t have a panic attack. Maybe that was where these feelings were coming from. I’d spent so much time with her earning her trust, becoming her friend, confidant, support, and suddenly a random stranger could do what I’d been trying to do for months.
That had to be it.
Only I knew that was a complete lie. Something had changed. Her. Me. Something between us. Whatever it was, it wasn’t jealousy over the fact that something I had worked so hard for with her was accomplished by a complete stranger in a different town. It was jealousy over the fact the complete stranger had been a guy. If it had been Indie or Kenzie or any other sales assistant, I would have been thrilled that she was comfortable enough in their company. But it wasn’t. It was a guy, and I was jealous as hell.
I wanted to be her knight in shining armour. I wanted to be her hero.
I was in over my head, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I shouldn’t be having those feelings, those thoughts. She was too young. It was wrong on so many levels, and not to mention illegal. The devil on my shoulder voiced his unpopular but not untrue opinion. She’ll be eighteen soon. That’s not illegal.
The voice of reason argued. But it’s still immoral. We lived under the same roof. She was in high school, yet I still couldn’t bring myself to leave her room with her thinking the worst.
“Audrey.”
“What are you still doing here, Brody?”
“Look at me.”
“No.” She pulled the covers over her head.
I sat on the edge of the bed and peeled the blankets off.
She rolled over and scowled at me. “I’m tired.”
“You’re a liar. Watch a movie with me?”
“Why? Because it’ll be dark, and you won’t have to look at me?” she hissed and rolled back over. “Turn the light off on your way out. Wouldn’t want you to see anything you don’t like.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over to face me. “I like everything I see. If you want the light off, that’s your choice, but I’m perfectly okay with it on.”
She stared at me with wide eyes. Her lips parted but didn’t say a word.
“You need to see yourself the way everyone else does, cupcake. The way I do. The way the guy in the shop today did. You’re strong, a fighter, a survivor. You have the battle scars to prove it, and you can be damn sure they’re not hideous like you want to believe they are. You’re beautiful, funny, smart. If you gave people the chance to see that about you, instead of shutting the world out, they’d adore you. No one would see the scars, and the people who might wouldn’t be worth your time.” I leaned over her, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “So, don’t you dare tell me I don’t like what I see, when in fact, I like it too fucking much.”
Her breath hitched, but I pushed myself up and walked out of her room without another word.
Damn it.
I stormed upstairs to my room, pulled off my shirt, and collapsed on top of my unmade bed. The sheets were twisted beneath me, and the navy covers were on the floor. My room was relatively bare. Dark grey walls and black furniture. I didn’t have a lot in the way of personal belongings. A few books, some clothes, a laptop. That was it. I didn’t need much. Resting an arm over my eyes, I groaned and wished I could take back every minute since Audrey walked into her room.
A soft tap on my door alerted me to her presence. It wouldn’t be anyone else at this time of morning. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table and sighed. It was almost one a.m. Another tap, and I realised she wasn’t going to walk in without me asking her to. Didn’t look like either of us would be getting any sleep tonight.
“Yeah,” I called.
The door creaked on its hinges, and the light switched on.
“Thought we could watch a movie,” Audrey said softly, stepping into my room. It was her way of apologising. Her fingers twisted the hem of her tank top, raising it slightly and exposing some skin as she waited for my response. I clenched my jaw and swallowed the lump in my throat. So, that was how it was going to be now—Audrey doing ordinary things and me finding them inadvertently sexy.
I sat up and patted the bed. “Can’t watch a movie from the doorway.”
Her face broke into a small smile, and she crossed the threshold into my room, taking her place on the bed beside me. I stood and grabbed my laptop from the desk in the corner and turned to face Audrey. “Want the light off?”
She thought about it for a minute, glancing from me to the switch on the wall before shaking her head. “No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
I smiled and tried to figure out what that meant, particularly after that conversation downstairs. Was she leaving the light on because I admitted I liked what I saw? If she was, did that mean she was okay with it? Did she want me to look? I shook my head clear. I was going to give myself a headache. Seventeen. She was seventeen. It meant nothing.
Almost eighteen.
Seventeen, damn it.
I gave Audrey the laptop and let her pick the movie before placing it on the bedside table so I didn’t have to hold it all night and sat on the bed beside her.
“Brody?”
“Cupcake?”
“You’re kind of blocking my view.” She tugged on my arm. I looked down at her legs stretched out, head on my pillow, my body directly blocking her view of the laptop screen.
“Sorry.” I slid down until my head hit the other pillow and we were lying side by side. I lifted my arms and placed my hands behind my head because…well, I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and it would stop me from trying to touch her again.
Big mistake.
It took Audrey two-point-four seconds before she’d rolled onto her side and rested her head on my shoulder and her hand on my chest.
I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths. Hands firmly behind my head. It was fine. Everything was fine. Men and women could be close without it meaning anything. It didn’t have to mean anything. We were friends. And friends shared a bed and watched movies and cuddled all the time, right?
Cuddled.
Shit.
I’d lowered my hand without even realising it and placed it on Audrey’s waist.
Perfectly platonic. Normal. Fine.
I tried to concentrate on the screen, on whatever movie Audrey had picked, but I couldn’t. Audrey’s fingers danced across my chest, tapping and swirling and tracing patterns on my bare skin. Crap. I should have put on a shirt. If I did that now, she’d probably freak out again. I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t a friendly thing. This was more. Men and women could be friends if they didn’t lie half naked in a bed together. Lines blurred too easily.
Audrey shifted, her body moved closer, and her leg brushed mine.
Seventeen.
Her tank had lifted a fraction when she moved. Just enough to expose some skin. Like a magnet, my fingers were drawn to her flesh. I mimicked her movements, tracing the rough, scarred skin on her hip, back and forth. She shivered from my touch but didn’t stop me. I wasn’t even sure she was watching the movie anymore. I knew I wasn’t. I was looking at the screen but not seeing anything.
But I was feeling everything. Her fingers drifted across my chest, down my stomach, traced around my bellybutton, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. It wasn’t until her hand ventured lower, toward the waistband of my pants, that I had the sense to stop her. I grabbed her hand, threaded my fingers through hers, and raised it up to my chest.
“That’s enough exploration, don’t you think?” I whispered into her hair, breathing in the scent of strawberries, and held her hand to my chest, all the while still dragging slow circles on her hip.
“Sorry.” She tried to pull away.
“Don’t.” I wrapped my arm tighter around her, fixed her tank, and dropped a kiss to the top of her head.
Seventeen.
Almost eighteen.
Damn it.