Brooks (Benson Brothers #1)

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Sorry.” Now I did laugh.

  “You don’t have to ever be sorry for touching me, Remi. Ever.” She gazed up at me and the need to kiss her overwhelmed me. I started to think it was getting to her to because she was subtly pushing herself up to be closer to my mouth. And then she blinked and stepped away.

  Moment gone.

  “Yeah, so, um, maybe on Friday we can go to the... the thing?” she said, her face going red as she stared into the sink.

  “Sure. We can go on Friday to the thing.” She glared up at me, her face red.

  ****

  My meeting with Carol went better than I could have hoped. Probably a few years older than my mom, she gushed when I brought in two of my best charcoal drawings. The tree in my parents’ backyard and a scene I’d drawn of an old woods road. I also showed her a painting of sunlight filtering through leaves.

  “This is really excellent work. I’m guessing you went to art school?” I shook my head.

  “No, pretty much self-taught since high school.” She studied me from behind a set of glasses that had a chain that looped around her neck.

  “Impressive. Yes, I definitely think we can find you a place in our next show.” I could feel myself grinning and I tried to stifle it. Carol and I walked around the gallery and talked about the sizes of my pieces and how many I’d like to put in the show and the best place to hang them. It was so nice to talk to someone about the technicalities of everything. I left the meeting buzzing with excitement.

  I’d also gotten a few orders already in my store, so I was going to have to hurry up and mail those prints out. Seeing a few dollars in my online account was shocking, but thrilling at the same time. It was a great way to sell my work without anyone knowing I was the one who made it.

  I headed home and found Remi Wright sitting in the living room having coffee with my parents.

  “Oh, hey,” I said, taking in the scene. I’d had no idea she was going to be here. She hadn’t said anything. What was she doing here?

  “Hey, I just came over to thank your parents for letting me use the store’s kitchen. I brought a cake.” Of course she brought a cake.

  “Great,” I said, not sure what other response I could make.

  “How did it go?” Mom asked. It was a little weird, standing there with my parents and Remi looking at me expectantly. Surreal.

  “It went really well. She wants me to be in the show,” I said and Mom leapt off the couch to embrace me, followed by Dad and then, to my surprise, Remi.

  “I’m okay with violating the rules for this,” she said in my ear before she let me go.

  “This calls for cake,” Remi said, heading into the kitchen. Mom gestured for me to follow her. Subtle.

  Remi was pulling out plates as if she lived here. Surreal. Again.

  “I’m so happy for you. I knew you’d get it. I knew it,” she said, beaming. Her smile was totally worth all the fear and doubt. I hated how much my happiness was tied to her reactions. She had me in the palm of her hand and she had no idea.

  I pulled out some silverware and handed her the silver cake-cutter. It had been a wedding gift when my parents got married.

  “Thanks. Now the suspense is over, I feel like I was making a big deal out of nothing. I saw some of the other stuff in that gallery and...” I trailed off and shuddered.

  “No offense to the people who own the gallery. I’m guessing maybe they just don’t get a lot of submissions. And I know art is supposed to be objective, but some of that was just shit.” Remi snorted and handed me two plates of cake. She took the other two.

  “I can imagine. It’s not like you’re living in some sort of art capital of the world. This is just plain old Hope Harbor.” We sat back down in the living room and ate the cake (red velvet this time) and I realized how comfortable Remi seemed with my parents. Especially my mom. I knew she had a hard time with her own, so maybe it was nice to talk to a mom-figure who wasn’t on her case all the time.

  “You are welcome any time, Remi. I mean it. Anyone who brings baked goods is definitely someone I want stopping by,” Mom said, giving Remi a hug.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll see you later, Brooks.” She gave me a little wave and left. I wanted to follow her and tell her to come back. Come back and stay.

  “She’s smitten with you,” Dad said, looking up from his book. He had the news on as well and Mom was flipping through a magazine.

  “You think?” I asked and Mom and Dad shared one of those parental looks that I’d seen hundreds of times before.

  “She is. Very,” Mom said. “She’s a very nice girl. I’d be happy to see her as a permanent part of your life.” Well, that wasn’t going to happen because she was moving and I was going to fucking help her go.

  “That’s probably not going to happen.” Mom smiled at Dad.

  “We’ll see,” she said and he nodded.

  ****

  It was raining when I picked up Remi on Friday. She dashed down the porch and hurried to my truck. Of course she didn’t have a raincoat on. Instead she had a leather jacket with a hood.

  “Shit, it’s gross out,” she said, shivering as I turned the heater for her.

  “You still want to go?” I asked as she put her fingers on the vents to dry them.

  “Yeah, I have an appointment, so I don’t really want to bail on it.” Part of me hoped she’d just say “screw it” and we could just spend the day in Portland, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen.

  “Right,” I said and pulled out of her driveway, turning my windshield wipers on high. She flipped on the radio. I might as well have her redo my presets, because she always changed whatever station I currently had it set on.

  “Hey, can we stop for snacks?” she asked. Remi always made herself comfortable in my truck, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet up on the dashboard. Her toes were painted neon green.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “I have to get gas anyway.”

  “Cool.”

  We didn’t talk for most of the ride, but Remi and I had spent so much time together that it wasn’t an awkward silence. I just couldn’t fathom a life where I didn’t bake with her several times a week. I didn’t even want to think about it.

  When we stopped for gas, she got enough snacks for a three-day trip.

  “Hungry?” I asked as she came back to the truck with an armful.

  “I’m PMS-ing, so sue me.” I burst out laughing. I loved that she had no filter and just said whatever the hell was in her head. I hadn’t met anyone quite like that. At least not with purple hair and the most gorgeous chest.

  “Works for me,” I said as she busted open a can of Pringles and held the tube out to me. I grabbed a few and crammed them in my mouth.

  ****

  The apartment was in the heart of the city on the third floor of a brick building. We found parking a few streets away and walked to the apartment without saying a word. She’d seemed so excited before and now she didn’t. Even though the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. Everything smelled wet and fresh, even the pavement.

  I let her go first as we walked up the front steps and the door opened to reveal a smiling woman in an impeccably cut suit and holding a leather-bound folder. She didn’t look much other than me or Remi.

  “Are you Remi Wright?” she asked, looking from me to Remi and back. I guessed she didn’t know if Remi was a girl or a boy.

  “That’s me, hi,” Remi said, holding her hand out. “Are you Leslie?” The woman nodded and shook Remi’s hand.

  “Oh, this is a friend of mine, Brooks,” Remi said, gesturing to me. I shook Leslie’s hand as well. It was all very professional.

  “Okay, great. So I’ll take you up,” Leslie said, leading us into the building. It was nice, as far as I could tell. No chipped paint or sagging stairs or shitty carpeting. Remi’s potential new place was a second-floor walk-up, which was going to be fun when she had to haul groceries, but she could handle it.

  “So this is
it,” Leslie said, unlocking a door with the number three on it.

  “Oh,” Remi said as we walked in. Leslie started doing her thing, telling us about when the building was constructed and all the updates that had been done, but I tuned her out to watch Remi take in the space. She walked from the small kitchen to the living room area with huge windows that let in tons of sunlight. The large master room in back had a bathroom and a brand new tub.

  I watched her face light up as she walked from room to room and I could see her living here. The space was a little quirky, the rooms a little off-center, the light fixtures all old-fashioned and the floors hardwood, worn soft by hundreds of footsteps.

  “So, what do you think?” Leslie asked after we’d gone through the entire place, detail by detail.

  “It’s beautiful,” Remi said and finally looked at me. “What do you think?” She directed her question at me.

  “I think it’s amazing and I could definitely see you living here,” I said, telling her the truth even though it made my heart feel like it was fucking shattering.

  This apartment was going to take her away from me. This city and its opportunities were going to take her away and I had to let her go. She needed to be here. I could see that now, watching her walk through the apartment. Remi deserved this.

  She deserved to be happy, and I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.

  “But I think I need to think about it some more,” Remi said, which surprised me. I’d thought she was going to sign on the dotted line today. She pivoted on her toes and looked at me.

  “Well, that’s fine, but I just want to caution you that this place is in high demand and it will go quick, so if you want it, don’t wait,” Leslie said and I wanted to roll my eyes. They always said stuff like that, to scare you into committing.

  “Right,” Remi said, and blinked as if she’d been in a trance.

  We went back downstairs and shook hands with Leslie again and promised to be in touch.

  “Okay, what did you really think?” I asked when we were back on the street again.

  “It was beautiful. I really, really liked it. And I could afford it, which is the crazy thing.” She slowed her walk and I matched her pace.

  “I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming,” I said and she gave me a wry grin.

  “But I don’t know if I’m ready for this. The last time I tried to live on my own, I crashed and burned. What if I crash and burn with this? A person can only screw up so many times before they give up completely. Brooks, I can’t fail again and end up back with my parents.” She shuddered as we walked out of the residential area and toward the shops and so forth.

  “You’re not gonna fail, Remi.” She gave me a look. I didn’t know what to say to make her believe me.

  “I wish you could believe in yourself as much as I do,” I said and that stopped her right in her tracks.

  Remi

  How? How did he always say the right things at the right times? I was definitely going to miss that when I moved. I’d have to call him on the phone and have him give me pep talks. The apartment was beautiful. Even nicer than I thought it would be. Plus, I could afford it, which was the absolute best part. I’d thought I was going to end up with a complete shithole of a place, but somehow it looked like things were going to work out. At least if I didn’t wait. When I woke up this morning, I’d had every intention of taking the place today if I liked it. But when I’d seen Brooks’ face, I’d had to fumble and say I had to think about it. I shouldn’t have brought him with me. He was just a reminder of what I’d be leaving behind in Hope Harbor. Just about the only thing I’d miss. Should have brought Dad.

  “Why didn’t you decide to take it?” he asked, as if he’d been reading my mind.

  “Just didn’t feel right,” I said as we walked toward a Starbucks.

  “You want to get some coffee?” He nodded and I let him hold the door open for me.

  ****

  We took our time wandering around Portland, stopping in any shop that struck our fancy, including one that sold all sorts of flavors of popcorn. Brooks and I waited in line for the famous potato donuts (UNBELIEVABLY AMAZING) and strolled by the water. Neither of us talked about me moving, or anything serious. Just stupid shit that you could talk about with someone you’d grown close with. I kept looking up at him and realizing just how much I...

  No. I wasn’t going to think the word because if I thought it, that would make it real. I couldn’t be in, um, more than like with Brooks. That was just not allowed to happen. So I tried not to think about it and the more I tried not to think about it, the more I was thinking about it.

  “You okay?” he asked because I’d been too distracted by thoughts that I was trying to run from.

  “Yup. Just thinking about a bunch of stuff.” I knew he didn’t believe me, but he let it go.

  “Come on, let’s go have a drink and some fried clams,” he said, pulling me toward a restaurant that jutted out over the water. The two of us sat outside on the deck and drank summer ale and had fried clams and fries with ketchup.

  “It wouldn’t suck living here,” he said.

  “You thinking about up and moving? Stalker,” I said, trying to make a joke so I could ignore the pounding in my heart.

  “No, just thinking. I mean, it could never happen because I can’t leave my family, but it’s still something to think about. I guess.” He frowned.

  “You’re allowed to have dreams of your own, Brooks. Outside of the ones that your parents have for you. I couldn’t live my life on my parents’ terms. I don’t know many people who can.” I pushed the last few fries toward him.

  “But where does family obligation come in? How can I justify leaving everything just because I want to do something else? How can I look my parents in the eye and tell them that I value ME more than them?” I didn’t have an answer for that. Mostly because I guess I didn’t understand that complete and total loyalty. Sure, I loved my parents, but I wasn’t going to compromise my life for them. They might ask, but I would be okay with putting myself first.

  “From what I know of your parents, they want to put you first, too.” His mom, definitely. What an amazing woman. I almost wished she was my mom. Almost, because then Brooks would be my brother and that would just be awkward.

  Besides. His mom was the one who let me sneak up to his room and take pictures of his art to submit to a professor at the Maine College of Art that I’d been emailing with. There was some vague connection with my parents, so I’d used that as an in to talk with him. All I wanted to know was if Brooks submitted his work, would he have a shot of getting in? I was still waiting to hear back. Until then, I was keeping my lips zipped.

  He was gonna be so pissed.

  “Yeah, I know,” he said with a groan. “It’s just so hard. I don’t want to be selfish.” No matter how many times I told him and his parents told him to put himself first, he wasn’t going to do it until he was ready.

  “Do what you need to do. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” He looked out at the ocean and the wind played with his hair. Brooks Benson was a very attractive man and it was constantly distracting.

  “I hope so. I’m just scared that I’m going to fuck things up.” I laughed and he drained his beer.

  “Who isn’t?”

  He chuckled.

  “Good point.”

  ****

  Brooks and I hung out at the restaurant and watched the sun set over the water. It really was beautiful. Sometimes when you lived in Maine, you forgot because you saw it all the time. And then it would hit you that you pretty much lived in a postcard one hundred percent of the time.

  “Your hair looks gorgeous in the light,” Brooks said, picking up a strand of hair off my shoulder and holding it up. I didn’t admonish him for touching my hair because I was too busy staring at him and wanting to kiss him. It was a real problem.

  “Thanks,” I said, tucking it behind my ear.

>   We both shared a look and I thought he was going to lean over and kiss me. But he didn’t.

  I still woke up in the middle of the night with my heart racing and thinking about how he’d touched me and how our bodies had fit together so well. I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t want to fuck him again. And again. Until I couldn’t walk.

  Wasn’t going to happen. If I let him touch me like that again, it would be all over. I would just absolutely fall off the edge of the cliff. I was currently teetering on the edge, but I could probably still pull myself back if I tried hard enough. If I wanted it enough.

  I thought back to what Dad had said about figuring out what my priorities were. I’d been thinking about it a lot and hadn’t come up with a solution. I just didn’t know. Brooks smiled at me and the sun fired up his hair. There were very subtle red highlights in it that I’d never noticed before.

  Distracting.

  Being with him made me think about all kinds of things that I’d never really considered before. I wasn’t exactly a fan of it, so I looked back out at the water and sighed.

  “You ready to go?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “Yeah,” I said, getting up and feeling an uncomfortable twisting in my stomach that I couldn’t ignore.

  Brooks Benson was ruining my plans.

  ****

  We were walking back to the truck when we found IT. It being the cutest little narrow storefront that was for lease. Brooks spotted it first.

  “Hey,” he said, grabbing my arm. “Look.” I did, finding dusty windows. I pressed my face to the glass and used my hands to block out the light so I could see inside.

  “Oh, hello,” I said.

  “It would make a great bakery, wouldn’t it?” Brooks said, pressing his face against the glass too.

  “It might.” The space was completely stripped down to the brick walls, but it had high ceilings, good light and a nice location between a store that sold kitchen items and another that sold cards.

  “But I could never afford it. Not now,” I said. I looked up and wondered just how much they’d want for it. A lot, I was guessing.

  Brooks was fiddling with his phone and not paying attention to me, so I stepped away and started walking again.