Brooke
My eyes open slowly and I realize I’m panting. As my dream comes back to me a shiver runs down my spine. Holy shit. That was great. I put my hand on my forehead and try to catch my breath as I lay there for a minute reliving the moments I hadn’t actually lived to begin with. Then it hits me. If I ever want to live those moments and not just dream about them, I’ve got to tell him the truth.
I hop out of bed with newfound energy and purpose. I’m gonna tell him. I grab a quick shower and head back to my room where I dig through my drawers for the perfect outfit. I dig through my underwear drawer first. Maybe he’ll want to celebrate afterward. I shiver and smile at the thought. For years I’ve been terrified of this, but now I’m suddenly feeling excited. He cares about me. Really cares. More than he cares for those bimbos he prances around with. I mean, we shared a moment. Not to mention, he left the bar with me last night. Me. Not Rachel.
I find a white lace thong and slip it on. Next, a bra. I don’t even think I own a matching bra and panty set. Finally, I find a white bra. It’s a little plain, but at least it matches. I slide it up my arms and clip it behind me. I pull out a pair of cut-off jean shorts that show just enough skin to be pleasing to the eye. I dig through my drawers, but all I can find are t-shirts. Shit.
Heading to my closet I start rummaging around until I find a black tank top covered in sequins. Cute. This will work. I pull it over my head and make my way back to the bathroom. I drag a brush through my hair, apply some product to fight the frizz and it’s good to go. I put on some light makeup. A little blush, some eye shadow, and mascara. Perfect. Back into my room, I dig through my closet. No sneakers today. But, since I don’t own heels, I slip on a pair of nice black sandals, with straps all over.
I stand back from my mirror hanging on my door and look myself over as I inhale deeply. Wow. I turn to catch my reflection from all angles. I don’t look half bad when I try and my hair isn’t a ball of knots on top of my head. I shake it around and watch my blond curls bounce around my shoulders. Okay, Brooke. You got this. Let’s go.
I step outside and it’s another beautiful day. The sun feels so good against my skin. I let the warm air fill my lungs before I jump into my car and start down the road. My plan is to meet him at the firehouse, ask him to take a walk with me, and then while we're walking I just tell him how I feel. Easy, peasy. Right?
My nerves start to set in as I head toward the firehouse. My grip on the steering wheel is so tight, my knuckles are turning white and my breathing grows rapidly. It may be a little dramatic but I feel like I’m hyperventilating. I’m not sure I can do this. I turn abruptly into the gas station two blocks from the firehouse and pull into a spot right outside the building. I sit there for a minute and try to regain my composure. I rest my head between my hands on the steering wheel and suck in a few deep breaths. You can do this, Brooke. You can do this. I flip down my rearview mirror to check my makeup and brush a few curls from my face before slapping it back up.
Just as I’m about to pull out I spot Conner’s truck pull into the gas station and my breath hitches. Oh, God. He’s here. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. I’ve never felt this nervous in my life. Do I tell him now? No. Stick to the plan, Brooke.
I watch as he pulls into a spot only a few away from mine. He opens his door and climbs down from his truck. He’s wearing dark blue jeans that hug his ass just tight enough. He’s so sexy. His sleeves are pushed up on his white t-shirt showing off his massive, defined biceps and I feel my lower half clench at the sight. His dark hair is spiked up in a perfect mess on top of his head. He starts to walk around the front of the truck away from the gas station entrance. Wait. What?
He waits on the sidewalk in front of his truck as a curvy, long-haired brunette scurries around the front to meet him. Rachel. He’s with Rachel. My heart sinks to my stomach as I watch the two of them make their way inside the gas station. An explosion of emotions starts bursting inside of me. I feel nauseous, infuriated, destroyed, but most of all I feel really fucking stupid. What the hell was I thinking?
I feel pathetic. Here I am, getting all gussied up for this man ready to pour my heart out to him and he shows up here with her. I knew this would happen. I knew better, but like a stupid, love-struck school girl on the playground, I let my emotions get the best of me. I hate myself for letting my guard down. For even thinking he could care for me the way I do him. For allowing myself to become one of the hundreds of girls who fall for Conner Smoak and end up heartbroken in the end. You are a fucking idiot, Brooke!
The thought burns in my core as I watch them walk around the store together through the window. I feel the tears start to swell up in my eyes. I knew this was coming. I brought this on myself. Lesson learned. I can’t be with him. I can’t let my guard down again. I love this man more than he will ever know, but I need to protect myself. He will never love me and I have to find a way to let him go.
****
Conner
I wake up to what feels like a train on my chest. I open my eyes and find dopey Bruno laying across me.
“Get off ya lug,” I say pushing him to the side. He doesn’t wake up but stretches out further across the other side of the bed.
I sit up in my bed, stretch, then rub my face. I check my phone for the time. 9:00 AM. There’s also a message waiting for me. I swipe my screen and tap the green message box. It’s Rachel. Great.
Hey Conner. Please call me when you get up. I had a little too much to drink last night and I’d really like a chance to talk about things.
Ugh! This woman is relentless. I know damn well she’s not gonna stop until I give her the chance to talk.
Sure. I reply and get a response almost immediately.
Great! Let’s do breakfast. I’ll be ready in about 30 minutes. You want to come pick me up?
Sure. I reply again, trying to intentionally be short so she gets the hint. This isn’t going anywhere.
I make my way out to the kitchen to start some coffee and call for Bruno. I hear him stampede down the hallway and to the back door. I leash him up and take him out. While I wait for him to finish up, my phone PINGS again.
Where do you want to go for breakfast?
Let’s stay local. I respond. I want to spend the least amount of time with her as possible.
Great idea! See ya soon! She sends three kiss emojis with this message.
Holy shit man. She’s so clingy.
I call Bruno back inside and get him some breakfast. I go back to my room and get dressed. I think for a minute about grabbing a shower but changed my mind. I’m not trying to impress anybody. I glance in the mirror and rub some gel through my hair, just so I don’t look like a complete scrub. Grabbing my keys off my dresser, I head out the door.
****
As soon as Rachel’s ass hits my seat her mouth starts going. She is so over the top.
“Hey, so listen Conner. I’m really sorry about last night. I was out of line and I think I had one too many shots…” she continues, but I tune her out and start the drive back to town.
“...So that’s what happened and I’m really sorry again. Are you still mad at me?”
I realize she stopped talking and I glance over at her. She’s sitting there looking at me intently like she’s waiting for a response. I search my brain for the last thing she had said.
“No, Rachel. I’m not mad at you.” You’re completely fucking exhausting, but I’m not mad.
“Oh, I’m so glad because I really think we can make this work,” she says as she slides to the middle seat and wraps her arm around mine. Woah. This is not what I meant. I need to create some distance here. I whip my truck into a gas station and park. Unwinding her arm from mine, I climb out. Before closing the door I hear her shout, “Oh, wait! I’ll come in with you.” Jesus Christ! I walk around the front to wait for her.
I don’t want to be rude but she’s driving me crazy. I don’t remember her being this bad on our first few dates.
She was pretty chill actually. It’s like she flipped the script on me overnight. She meets me in front of the truck and we go inside together. I walk around the store looking for something to buy, Rachel following closely behind me every step of the way. I didn’t even really need anything other than some space from her. In the fifteen-minute drive from her house to here I felt like I was being suffocated.
I grab a bottle of water and go to check out. Once we finally get back in the truck I turn to face her.
“Look, Rachel. I meant what I said last night. This isn’t going to work out.”
“Wait. I don’t understand. I apologized. You said you weren’t mad.” A look of confusion sweeps across her face and tears start to appear in her eyes. Oh boy. Let her down easy, Smoak.
“And I’m not mad. It’s not you. I’m just not ready for the relationship you are.”
I studied her face carefully waiting to see how this was going to go. Her lips start to quiver and the tears begin to roll down her cheeks. Shit.
“Really, Conner? It’s not me, it’s you? That’s what you’re going with?” she asks through small sobs.
“You may not want to hear it, but it’s the truth. Maybe I should just take you home.”
“Please,” she answers harshly as she slides towards the passenger side window and crosses her arms.
The ride back to her house is completely silent. She gets out of my truck and slams the door behind her before disappearing into her house without looking back.
Whew. I feel bad about hurting her, but I also feel relieved that it’s over.
****
I pull into the fire station and can tell by the vehicles parked outside who’s here. Gabe, Joe, Brooke. I turn off the engine and go inside. I walk upstairs and find Brooke sitting on the couch watching t.v., a plate of scrambled eggs in her hand. My mouth starts to water. I've been starving since I skipped breakfast and Brooke’s cooking would definitely hit the spot.
I sit down on the couch beside her.
“Those smell really good,” I say, eyeing her plate. Trying to be charming, I flash her a smile.
“They are really good,” she answers, not taking her eyes off the t.v. as she takes another bite.
“What are you watching?”
“The penguin documentary I didn’t get to finish the other night,” she says, still not looking at me. Is she mad? I test her mood with another question.
“What is it about you and penguins?”
“Well for starters, my favorite thing about penguins is when they pick a mate, they are mates for life. One male. One female. The two of them are completely monogamous.” Her tone was hostile. Is she referring to me? Is she judging my relationships? Now I’m completely lost. My relationships have never bothered her before. Why now? Maybe it was seeing me with Rachel last night? Maybe she didn’t like how I handled it?
“Why are you acting so weird?” I ask.
“Why do you have to be like you are?” she snaps back. What the hell?
“Is this about how I handled things with Rachel because you should know..”
She cuts me off, “I don’t want to know, Conner. I want nothing to do with your love life.”
“Then why are you being like this? What’s your problem?” I feel anger start to build in my chest. She’s never judged me before and the feeling is unsettling.
She gets up from the couch and walks her plate to the sink. I watch her stand there silently with her head down. I realize now that she’s a little more dressed up than usual. Her hair flows off her shoulders and down her back. Her shorts are a little shorter than what I’m used to seeing her in, but I have to admit, she looks good when I can see her curves. I hear her let out a breath.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just a little moody I guess.”
Moody? I’m not sure I believe her, but I don’t press the matter. She seems to have calmed down now. I stand and walk to her side.
“Everything okay?” I ask, tilting my head so I can see her face beneath her mound of blond curls.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she answers, peering up at me with large green eyes through long lashes and gives me a small smile.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“I know. Thanks.”
Brooke acted normal the rest of the day but as I drove home I couldn’t help but feel like something was still up with her. She’s just been off lately. Especially, over the last few days. Something is going on with her and I wish she would just talk to me about it. She knows I’d have her back no matter what it was. But, for whatever reason, she seems to think she can’t trust me with whatever she’s going through. The thought is unnerving.
Eight
Brooke
My shift at the station ended at eight but I didn’t go home. I managed to keep my emotions in check all day except for the little outburst I had this morning with Conner. I can’t believe I went off on him in penguin metaphors. I’m psychotic. No use dwelling on it now. Now it’s time to let loose. I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing. I pull out my phone and text Bobby. He’s always up for a drink and a good time.
You busy tonight?
I wait around for a response, pacing back and forth outside the firehouse. I’m going to drink this man from my memory, even if only for tonight. I know it’s reckless, but my heart is breaking inside and I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I need something to numb the pain before it tears me apart.
Not really. What up? He answers.
Let’s go to Micky’s.
Give me 20. I’ll meet ya there.
I get there before Bobby and go straight to the bar. Marcy greets me with a smile.
“You back again honey?”
“A shot of tequila, Marcy,” I say with a serious expression. She stares back at me. Probably caught off guard. I’m not usually this cold with people, but tonight I’m on a mission.
“Here ya go.” She slides the shot across the bar to me and watches as I throw it back.
“Another one please,” I say, sliding the small glass back to her.
“You doing alright, Brooke?” she asks with concern in her eyes.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just thirsty.”
She pours another shot cautiously and slides it back to me. Again, she watches as I tilt my head back and gulp it down. This one burns a bit more in my throat and I make a face. Without saying anything I slide the glass back to her.
“How ‘bout a beer or some water now?” she suggests.
“No thanks. Another tequila please, Marcy.”
“Brooke, I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t the way to deal with it.”
I know what she’s saying is true but the pain in my chest is unbearable. Tears start to build up in my eyes and I look up at her through my lashes. I need to escape.
“Please, Marcy.”
She shakes her head in disapproval but pours another shot.
“This is your last one for a while. You can have a beer or something but I’m not gonna stand by and watch you do this to yourself.”
“Thanks,” I say before taking the shot from the bar and dumping it into my mouth. This one burns too.
Marcy comes back with a beer and water.
“Drink these next,” she says, sitting them on the bar in front of me.
I nod back at her then turn in my seat when I hear the door open. Bobby walks in and throws his hands in the air.
“Hey! You’re not starting without me are you?” he shouts from across the room. At least now I won’t feel so pathetic since I’m not drinking by myself anymore.
Before long, the bar fills up and I think I’ve fallen off of Marcy’s radar. Bobby and I find seats at a table and continue taking shots, chasing them down with our beers. My body starts to buzz as the pain begins to slowly disappear, being drowned out by the alcohol. Finally.
****
Conner
I lay in bed watching t.v. with Bruno. After this weekend, I just need a night to
relax. Suddenly, as if the universe is taunting me, I hear the PING of my phone. I glance at the screen.
1 Message
I swipe the screen and see Rachel’s name pop up. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
I open the message and read.
Hey Conner. I know we’re done and all, but I think I left my purse there when I stayed over last weekend. I can stop in and get it if you’re home.
I think for a moment that she did that shit on purpose. She’s definitely crazy enough. How does she go all week without her purse and then all of a sudden she needs it? Regardless, I don’t want her coming here. I may never be able to get her out.
Where did you leave it? I’ll bring it to you.
Ummm...I think I took it back to your room. Check on the side of the bed that I slept on.
I know exactly what she’s doing. She wants me to think about the night I brought her here. Shit’s not going to work Rachel. To be honest, it’s kind of creeping me out a little. I roll out of bed and check the other side. Kneeling, I find it wedged underneath. I pull out the little pink handbag. I slip a t-shirt out of my drawer and pull it over my head. Then slide on a pair of jogging pants and head out the door.
To avoid any further interactions, I sit the bag on her front porch and leave as quickly as I can. I can’t deal with her anymore. I hop back in my truck and take off. As I’m driving back home my phone starts to ring. Ugh! C’mon Rachel! Fucking let it go! I pick it up and look at the screen that reads Marcy.
What the hell? Why is she calling me?
“Hey, Marcy,” I answer.
“Hey, Conner,” Her voice is quiet but the background is noisy. She must be at the bar.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Not exactly. I mean. I’m fine. It’s fine, but umm...I think you should come down here.” She sounds worried and my heart starts to beat hard in my chest.
“Marcy, what’s going on?” I say more harshly than I intended but she’s starting to worry me.
“It’s Brooke. I just think you might want to come down here.”
“Is she okay? What the hell is happening?!” A rush of adrenaline surges through me.
There's Warmth: A Friends to Lovers Romance (Where There's Smoak Book 1) Page 6
