“Ah, yeah, I do like it. I try and encourage her, ya know? She loves cooking, so…” She shrugged. “But honestly, I’d rather have a stir-fry or…”
“Chinese,” Catherine said without thinking.
The mouthful of food on the spoon stopped just shy of Brooke’s mouth. “Yeah, how did you know that?”
“I’m sure you must have mentioned it,” she deflected quickly. She turned her back and fled once more to the kitchen. This was going to be a lot harder than she’d thought.
~FI~
The need was getting worse. Brooke was sure she had felt this kind of uncomfortable situation several times out in the field, but right now it was embarrassing. She needed the toilet, but every time she stood up it would hurt, or she would feel dizzy.
She fidgeted about, her leg shaking as she tried to take her mind off of the fact that at any minute she would have to give in and ask for help.
From where she sat in the armchair opposite, Catherine couldn’t help but notice the jittery movements Brooke continued to make. “Are you okay?” she finally asked.
“Yeah, I just…” Brooke wriggled about some more before finally giving in. “I need the toilet.” She bit her lip and grimaced. “I just…”
Catherine stood up, “Why didn’t you say?” She held her hands out and helped Brooke to her feet, holding her around the waist to steady her. They fit perfectly together as Catherine strengthened her grip on her hip.
“Okay to walk?”
Brooke nodded and shuffled her bare feet forward. Every step jolted a bruise somewhere. “Sorry, this must be so embarrassing.”
“No, not really.” Catherine’s matter-of-fact replies helped to ease Brooke’s humiliation a little.
Shuffling awkwardly down the narrow passageway, they reached the small toilet, both reaching for the door handle at the same time. When Brooke touched her, Catherine felt a tingling sensation that spread throughout her insides. She remembered just how she felt when this woman’s touch had brought nothing but pleasure, and she yearned for it, but it wasn’t to be.
Brooke leant back, letting the wall support her while Catherine rested one hand still at Brooke’s waist, its warmth imprinting through her shirt. Brooke exhaled in relief when finally, she opened the door more fully. Brooke backed up and edged along the wall until she was inside the small space and then she realised a bigger problem.
“Okay?" Green eyes bore into Brooke’s as she waited for an answer. Eyes that made Brooke’s heart flutter.
“Could you, uh.” She looked down and then back up, hoping that Catherine would understand. She didn’t. She just stared back blankly, holding Brooke’s pained gaze. Brooke held up her arm, her fingers bandaged together. “I can’t…the button and zip.”
A perfectly shaped brow raised as understanding hit. “Oh. Right.” Catherine stepped forward, toe to toe with Brooke, and reached down. Her hands between them, she tried to smile as she fiddled with the button. Brooke smiled back in an awkward kind of way, her good hand resting easily at Catherine’s hip. “Fiddly,” Catherine muttered under her breath.
“Yeah,” Brooke agreed. Heat was rising in such close quarters. It had been a while since a woman had been this intimate with her. At least, she assumed so; she couldn’t remember otherwise. Finally, task complete, Catherine looked at her.
“Uh, do you need me to…” Brooke nodded. “Right.” She gripped the waistband of Brooke’s trousers and underwear, and yanked gently until they were down by her knees. “I’ll wait outside, I mean if you’re okay to…”
“Yeah, I’m good.” Brooke blushed as Catherine backed out of the room. “Fuck,” she mumbled to herself, sitting down carefully.
Of all the times to find somebody attractive, it’s when I can’t go to the loo by myself, she thought with a silent groan.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chaperoned to her room, Brooke emptied her pockets and then let the pants drop to the floor. She managed to undo the top two buttons on her shirt and pulled that off too, tossing both items into the laundry basket.
Her room was tidy, as it always was. She was fastidious about it. Jiggling one of her drawers open one-handed, she pulled out a fresh top and some jogging pants. It was a bit of a struggle, but she managed to get her feet into them and gradually inch them up her legs. The top was easier. At least now if she needed help to go to the toilet, she could manage undressing herself. Though, she had to admit, it wasn’t unpleasant being so close to Catherine. She had to also admit that there was something very attractive about her new friend. Shaking her head, she admonished herself for thinking that way about someone just trying to help her out.
On the bed, she noticed her phone, next to her wallet and keys. It had been in her pocket all day and she hadn’t thought to look at it. Picking it up, she swiped the screen and noticed three messages all from someone named Amber.
Amber: OMG I just heard what happened, are you ok?!!
Amber: Please let me know as soon as you can, everyone is worried about you.
Amber: Okay, I guess you must be resting. Paul filled us all in, so I am glad you’re alright. Are we still on for Saturday?
“Saturday?” Brooke repeated out loud. “And who is Amber?”
She made her way back to the living room and found Catherine now dressed in pyjamas. Brooke’s confusion over Amber was now compounded by Catherine’s bedroom attire. Little cartoon penguins dotted the material. She thought she had Catherine pegged as the typical office type following their first meeting at the hospital – she was a little ramrod straight and didn’t look like she had that much fun in her – and yet, casual Catherine seemed a totally different prospect. Polar opposites.
“Everything alright?” Catherine asked, looking up from where she had curled her feet underneath herself in the armchair once more. She looked at home here, Brooke thought.
Brooke shrugged and gingerly eased herself back down onto the couch. She groaned as she bent and her back made contact with the cushion. “Apparently I have a date on Saturday with someone called Amber, but I don’t remember who she is or how we met.”
Catherine’s eyebrows rose a notch, the look of surprise lasting barely an instant before she pushed it away and spoke. “Amber works in the office. She was the one that you spent most of last week with.”
“Oh.” She reached up and scratched her neck. “I had better reply then.” Though she didn’t know what to say really, she typed out:
Brooke: Hey, yeah, I am fine, thanks for asking. Remind me where we are going on Saturday?
She was hoping to get more answers than questions. She placed her phone down on the table and looked over at Catherine. “What’s she like?”
“I don’t really know,” Catherine replied honestly, turning her attention back to the TV.
“But you work with her, right? In the same office?” Brooke continued. She literally had no recollection at all of who this Amber was or why she had agreed to go out with her on Saturday. Clearly, she must have liked her; otherwise she wouldn’t have asked her out. That information put things into perspective regarding any attraction she had towards Catherine.
“I do, yes. Would you like another cup of tea?” she asked, standing up and heading towards the kitchen, which was rapidly becoming her safe haven to avoid difficult questions.
Shaking her head, Brooke replied, “No, thank you.” She pushed herself up and followed Catherine. “Is she new too, then?”
Catherine reached for a clean mug and sighed. “Who, Amber?” She felt anger and humiliation poke at her senses. Or was it jealousy? Which was ridiculous.
“Yes, Amber, my date this Saturday.”
“I think she has worked there longer than I have.” The kettle boiled and Catherine added the hot water to the cup, keeping her back to Brooke, she closed her eyes and silently pleaded for her to stop asking these questions.
Her dark fringe flopped forward a little as she tried to work it out. Her thoughts were still pretty mushy right now. �
��But, didn’t you say that you and I are friends?”
“Yes, I did….” She turned now, holding her mug of tea. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”
“Yeah, I’m sure, thanks.” Catherine edged past her back into the living room. “But I’ve only been there a couple of weeks. How can we be friends but you don’t know anything about someone that’s worked with you for longer?”
Catherine shrugged, sipped her tea, and winced at the heat, contemplating the truth as she placed the tea down on the table. But what would the truth bring? More questions that she didn’t want to answer. “It’s late, I think I might read for a bit in bed. Do you need me to do anything for you first?”
Brooke frowned. “No, I’m good.”
~FI~
Catherine was lying under the unicorn-design duvet in a single bed, the likes of which she hadn’t slept in since being Robin’s age – and even then, Catherine was pretty sure she’d had a larger bed than this. Why on Earth had she volunteered to do this? It was so unlike her, so out of her comfort zone and yet, at times with Brooke, she felt more at ease with herself than she had in years.
Brooke was right though; she had known Amber for over a year and still didn’t know a thing about her, or Kim, or anyone else she worked with other than what was in their file. She liked it like that, didn’t she?
She turned over and bashed the pillow in frustration. “Dammit.” Life was unfair. Meeting Brooke had been a highlight in her life. Brooke was somebody she had seriously considered allowing into her world: her home, her bed, her heart.
And now look what had happened. She had gotten her wish. Brooke had forgotten her and worse still, was going on a date with Amber. “Fuck.” They’d be dating and fawning all over each other in front of her. That thought alone hurt. She didn’t want anyone else touching Brooke.
But then she considered how quickly Brooke had lined Amber up as a replacement. What was that all about? Some play to make me jealous? Well, it’s working, she thought. Or was I simply not that interesting to her once I was no longer a challenge? She stared up into the darkness, her eyesight now more accustomed to it. So much for our connection.
She was jolted from her thoughts by a quiet knock. “Yes?” she answered a little timidly, or was it hopefully?
Brooke’s head appeared around the door, “I just wanted to say thanks, again…for ya know, all that you’ve done. And you left your tea.”
“Oh, thank you.” Relief, or disappointment, washed over her. She wasn’t sure which it was and which she preferred as she waited.
Brooke smiled as she wandered into the room and placed the cup down on the small stool Robin had by the side of the bed. The light from the hallway lit her up and just for a second, Catherine considered pulling back the covers and inviting her into bed. “Goodnight then,” Brooke whispered.
“Yes, goodnight.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brooke barely slept a wink. The painkillers had worn off around three a.m. If she lay on her back, everything hurt. When she tried to roll over and lie on her side, everything hurt. Sitting up? Everything hurt. All of her muscles ached. It felt like she had been hit by a tank. Eventually, as the clock ticked its way past 5 a.m., she got up and went to make a cup of coffee.
Entering the kitchen, she almost jumped out of her skin when she found Catherine already sitting at the table, sipping coffee and reading a book. Something sinister by the look of it. There was a doll’s head on the cover.
“Good morning,” Catherine said brightly, lifting her glasses onto her head. She was dressed already too. Brooke wondered how she hadn’t heard her moving around.
If yesterday she had been all business in her dress, hair up tidily in a bun at the back of her head and high heels on her feet, then now she was the complete opposite, and Brooke got the feeling that this was an image of Catherine that not many people got to see: jeans, with a rip across the right knee (not the ones she wore last night); a red t-shirt with a huge pair of lips on it that she recognised as Mick Jagger’s; and the entire ensemble was topped off with canvas high tops. Even her hair was down, hanging loosely to frame her face. She looked gorgeous, and Brooke felt she already knew that fact about her, that she had already acknowledged it at some point before her memory loss.
“Morning.” Brooke’s voice was gruff and tired as she turned her attention away from Catherine towards the kettle. A feeling of déjà vu came over her, and she stored it away to think about later.
“Take a seat, I’ll get it,” Catherine said. She placed her book facedown on the table and stood up. Pushing her hair behind her ear, she asked, “Coffee, or tea?”
“Painkillers,” Brooke grunted in response. Her head still pounded, and her eyes felt itchy and wanted to close.
“Goodness, that bad?” Catherine was by her side in an instant, helping her into a chair. “You don’t look too good. Maybe I should call the doctor?”
Brooke pushed her hand through her hair and closed her eyes. Yawning, she mumbled, “Tired, pain, that’s all.”
Satisfied that she wouldn’t fall off of her chair, Catherine set about getting Brooke’s medication together. Easing the tap open, water gushed into the glass and she passed it across, watching as Brooke swallowed down the tablets and then finished off the water. She felt mesmerised watching the brunette lick her lips as she placed the empty glass down onto the table.
“Thank you,” she said through another yawn.
“I think we should get you back into bed, you’re dead on your feet.”
Shaking her head, Brooke said, “I’ll be okay. I’m gonna grab a shower though.” Yawning, she stood up and stretched gently. “Might wake me up a bit, and the heat will help with the aching.”
“Alright, don’t get your hair wet though,” Catherine reminded. The stitches needed to be kept dry. “And if you need anything, then just call me.” Catherine took her by the elbow and guided her down the hallway. “I’ll wait just here.”
Brooke gave her a grateful smile and headed into the bathroom while Catherine stood outside, chewing her lip, listening to a string of curses and expletives as Brooke attempted to undress. Just as she was about to offer a helping hand, the shower came to life and she heard the creak of the door as it opened and then closed behind Brooke. Folding her arms, she leant back against the wall and thought back to the morning she had shared that space with her. Her face warmed as she remembered the details: Brooke down on her knees in the cramped space, peering up at her through hooded eyes as she brought Catherine to orgasm again. Her strong arms wrapped around Catherine’s thighs, holding her and stopping her from collapsing as her legs gave way and her body succumbed to the inevitable.
She had been so engrossed in the memory that she hadn’t heard the shower door open again. It was the bathroom door opening that brought her back from her thoughts. A dark head of hair poked out through the doorway. “Uh, so I have like a major problem.” She grinned awkwardly.
“And that is?”
Her left arm poked out through the door. “What with the stitches in my head and this bandaged up, I am kind of at a loss on how to do anything.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah so, any ideas?”
“Let me think…” Catherine was a little flustered still. Just beyond that lump of wood was the naked body she had been thinking about, not just continuously for days, but specifically right now.
“Why are you up this early, anyway? Is Robin’s bed not comfortable? She hasn’t complained about it, but I guess it’s a lot smaller than you’re used to,” Brooke rambled.
“I uh…it’s a work day…I just woke up early out of habit I suppose.” Catherine stuttered out a reply and tried not to stare at the water dripping down Brooke’s clavicle.
“You get up this early on purpose?”
“Yes, I need the time to get myself ready for the office. Make-up, outfit….”
“You look great as you are,” Brooke blurted out, and then blushed along with Catherine.
“This would not do for the office. Anyway, I like to enjoy a cup of tea and maybe read a chapter or two of my book. I like the quiet of the morning.”
“Oh, makes sense I suppose.” Before Catherine could continue to explain her daily morning ritual, Brooke steered the conversation back to the issue of the moment. “So, what if maybe if I tape a carrier bag around my hand, then I can wash and not worry about getting the bandage wet.”
Catherine’s eyes were drawn back to the hand, along the forearm attached, and up to the shoulder covered in flawless skin. She saw the odd freckle here and there and the fading tan lines of something very skimpy, according to how low they dipped on her cleavage. She hadn’t noticed that during their night together, and she kicked herself for not paying better attention. She’d been too busy noticing other things. Like how she touched her as though she had been doing it for years. How her lips felt as they kissed a path down Catherine’s stomach and sucked at the crease of her torso and thigh. She licked her lips at the memory of that first swipe of Brooke’s tongue across her clit, remembering how she had arched into it and begged for more.
Brooke watched her, the way her eyes travelled her nakedness and she zoned out. “Or I can invite you in if you prefer,” Brooke joked.
“What?” Catherine looked back up in alarm. “I…I’ll get the bag.”
Brooke chuckled at Catherine’s departing figure. She didn’t say no, Brooke thought.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Amber: Anywhere you wanna take me!
“Well that leaves things open.” Brooke chuckled to herself as she read Amber’s text before she flicked to Robin’s message, a warning to behave and not do anything she wasn’t supposed to.
“Hmm, what does?” Catherine asked. She carried two mugs of coffee and a plate of biscuits.
Brooke looked up, reached for a mug, and set it down on the table next to her. “Oh, just Amber.”
Catherine didn’t reply and instead settled herself down in the armchair that had been her spot since she had gotten here. Brooke stared at her for a moment and wondered how it was that a virtual stranger to her could look and feel so comfortable in her home. She assumed they really must have hit it off at work.
The Meant to Be Collection Page 36
