Brooks (Benson Brothers #1)

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Maybe someday,” Brooks said.

  “Someday,” I said, glancing over my shoulder.

  ****

  I fell asleep in his truck on the way back and woke up when he was carrying me inside the house. I could hear Brooks talking to Mom and Dad. I kept my eyes shut and tried to even my breathing so they’d believe I was still sleeping. I didn’t want to deal with all three of them at this particular moment.

  Brooks carried me into my room and set me down on my bed. I had to open my eyes at that point.

  “Hey,” he said, brushing some of my hair out of my eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, thanks for carrying me in,” I said, blinking at him.

  “I’ll always be here if you need me,” he said and then leaned down and brushed his lips across my forehead in the lightest of touches. Not even a kiss. Just a touch.

  He stood up and left my room before I could say anything. I closed my eyes, but Mom chose that moment to walk in and ask me what was going on with Brooks.

  “I don’t know, Mom, we’re just hanging out,” I said through a yawn.

  “That definitely doesn’t look like just hanging out, Remington Rose.” Oh my God, I did not want to be doing this right now. Not at all.

  “Mom, seriously, can we talk about this tomorrow, please? I’m still, like, half asleep.” I yawned again. It had been a long day and my sleep had been interrupted by thoughts of Brooks lately, so I was exhausted.

  She sighed and crossed her arms.

  “Fine. But we are talking about this, because I don’t want you stringing that boy along if you’re not going to commit. That’s not fair. If he’s not the one you want, you’re taking up time where you could be dating someone else.” Jesus fuck I was going to kill her.

  “Mom, seriously.” I opened my eyes and sat up. “I am not having this conversation with you right now. The end. I will talk with you about it tomorrow.” I wasn’t going to avoid talking to her, but right now I just wanted to get some goddamn sleep.

  “Fine,” she snapped and stormed out.

  “I’ll talk with her,” Dad said, ducking his head in.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said. I gave him a little wave and he closed the door behind him. I got myself upright and pulled off my clothes and shoes and shut off the light.

  The last thing I thought of was the way my blood burned when Brooks kissed me on the forehead.

  ****

  I slept until ten the next morning, and woke feeling like I had finally caught up on all the sleep I’d missed for so many days. I hauled myself out of bed and went right for a shower before heading out into the kitchen. Mom and Dad were sitting and talking. Probably about me, seeing as how they shut up when I walked into the room. I grabbed a muffin and a cup of coffee.

  “So, we gonna have the Brooks chat now?” I asked, pouring myself a cup from the pot and then sitting down in the third chair.

  “I’m just concerned for you, Remi. That’s all. This boy is clearly taken with you and I don’t know why you’re holding him off, unless you don’t like him.” How was I going to explain this in a way that she could understand?

  “I know, Mom. But it’s complicated. We’re just... we’re friends for now. That’s all.” She started to argue and I was ready to yell back, but Dad took her hand.

  “Let’s not pressure her. Remi is a big girl and she can make her own decisions. If she’s not running off and marrying a boy she’s barely started seeing, I’m okay with that. She’s still young. Let her be young.” Mom wanted to argue, but she couldn’t take two of us, so she just made huffing noises and rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, then,” I said, taking my muffin and my coffee out to the porch. That wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I had the feeling it wasn’t the last time that Mom was going to ask me about Brooks. I was going to have to get used to it, at least until I could move.

  When I first got back, thinking about moving was the one thing keeping me going. Every time I thought about it, I got excited and it helped relieve the stress of dealing with my mom. But now...

  I just wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Brooks Goddamn Benson.

  Sixteen

  Brooks

  Taking Remi to the apartment messed me up for days. I couldn’t talk to her about it because that would be admitting it was really happening. I didn’t want to stop her from going, but...

  I didn’t want her to go.

  I spent one of my days off the next week at home helping Mom around the house with chores that Dad couldn’t manage anymore and packing up a bunch of prints. I’d sold more than I ever though was possible and at this rate, I was going to have some extra cash on hand.

  “How’s everything with Remi?” she asked. Of course she asked. I’d been giving her updates on Remi so Mom knew all about her moving and how I felt about it.

  “The same. She’s leaving and that’s that,” I said, getting on a ladder so I could change some of the burned-out lights in the kitchen.

  “Hm,” Mom said and I looked down as I handed her the blown-out bulb and she passed me a fresh one.

  “What sound does that mean?” I asked as I screwed in the new bulb and it flared to life.

  “It means that it isn’t over until it’s over.” I got down and dusted off my hands.

  “I don’t want to scare her into going even sooner.” I could absolutely picture that in my head. Me blurting out that I loved her, Remi freaking out, and then hearing the next day that she had packed up her car in the night and was gone. Wouldn’t surprise me at all.

  “But if you never tell her, she’ll never know. And then you’ll always think about it. Always regret it.” Yeah, that sounded great and all, but everything wasn’t up to me.

  “I’m scared,” I admitted.

  “I know, baby. Love is the scariest thing there is. But if you can grab it and hold onto it, it’s the best thing. The very best.” I gave her a hug.

  “Thanks, Mom.” This was something that Remi and I were going to have to figure out together. And I was either going to have to tell her, or not.

  Tell her.

  Don’t tell her.

  I just didn’t know what to do.

  So I went up to my room and spent the rest of the day drawing angry things with charcoal. I didn’t feel much better when I was done. I was frustrated. And stuck.

  Something was going to have to give and soon.

  At least I had my art to focus on. I was steadily building up a collection and had gotten several more pieces matted and framed. Somehow my mom had found spaces for them on the already-crowded walls.

  I had so much in my room that I could probably cover the walls of several houses. There was one small charcoal drawing of stones on the beach and for some reason it made me think of Remi. Granted, almost everything made me think of her, but still. I got it framed and then wrapped it in tissue paper and brought it to the store with me on the next night we were baking together.

  I just needed the right moment to give it to her. And for her not to freak out when I did.

  Remi seemed distracted when she came in, barely giving me a hello before she headed back to the kitchen and pulled out all her ingredients, slamming them down on the counter. Guess my gift was gonna have to wait.

  “You okay,” I asked, coming back and putting on a fresh apron.

  “Yeah, fine,” she said, getting out some of her bowls. Her forehead was all creased and I knew her well enough to know that there was something definitely wrong.

  “Want to try that again? People who are fine usually don’t slam things around,” I said, leaning my elbows on the counter. She gave me a withering look.

  “Fine. I’m not fine. I’m not fine because my mom is up my ass about you and I’m tired of hearing about it. Why can’t she just leave me the fuck alone?” She slammed down a measuring cup so hard that it skittered off the counter and onto the floor.

  “Fuck!” she said and I walked ar
ound the counter to help her out.

  “Hold up,” I said, picking up the cup and taking her arm. “Let’s just take a second.” She glared up at me.

  “This is all your fault. You and your stupid smile and your stupid hair and your stupid words. Damn you, Brooks Benson.” I thought she was going to punch me, but then she jumped on me instead and I found myself being thrown backwards as I struggled to catch her at the same time as she attacked my lips with hers.

  This time neither of us took our time. My hands ripped and tore at her clothes and she was just as ferocious with mine. There were definite ripping sounds as we got each other undressed. I had just enough brainpower left to remember to get a condom from my wallet (I’d put it in there after the last time; just in case) so we didn’t make any mistakes. I hauled her up on the counter and pushed the baking supplies aside. We’d clean up later. Right now I needed to be touching her and tasting her and inside her.

  “No foreplay, fuck me now,” she said as I started to kiss down her neck. I’d planned on going down on her like last time, but her wish was my command. I handed her the condom and she put it on, her hands shaking a little. I grabbed the back of her neck and put the other arm around her back as I thrust into her.

  “Oh, fuck,” she said, her eyes shuttering closed. She must have been thinking about this for a while, because she was already wet.

  “More,” she demanded and I gave her what she wanted, hard and fast. She came once, so fast that I didn’t even realize what was happening until she cried out and shuddered. I was determined to make it happen again, so I slowed down a little to let her recover and then started again. I tried to kiss her, but we were both so out of control that it didn’t exactly work.

  I felt myself getting close, so I slid a hand between us to get her there faster and we came at the same time, and it was like a hurricane blowing through us.

  We both shuddered in the aftermath, our skin damp with sweat.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to do that,” I panted and she weakly smacked me on the chest.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Hey, they were your rules, Remi,” I said, pulling out and stepping back from her. She propped herself up one her elbows. Her hair was all over the place and her skin was flushed. So beautiful.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said, sitting all the way up. I went to dispose of the condom and clean myself up. When I came back she was still naked, but she was standing and looked deep in thought.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Sure. Why not? I just fucked you, again, when I told myself I wasn’t going to, but sure, things a peachy fucking keen.” Guess she was still mad.

  “Do you want me to go?” I asked. I would put my clothes on and walk out if that was what she wanted.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know,” she said, moaning and covering her face with her hands.

  “Look, let’s put our clothes on and talk about this. Just talk. We need to talk.” I put my underwear, pants and shirt back on and she did the same. We could have a discussion without ripping each other’s clothes off again.

  Maybe.

  I went to the office and grabbed the two chairs Avery and I had sat in when we’d talked. I motioned for her to take one and I took the other, rolling away from her so there was space between us.

  “Okay, let’s talk,” I said. “Do you want to start?” This felt weirdly like a counseling session or something.

  “Not really. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we just fucked again in this kitchen and we have never done it in an actual bed.” I couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of me. That would be the first thing she thought of.

  I loved the way her brain worked.

  “We could, if you wanted to. I don’t think my parents would mind.” She gave me a look like I’d said something stupid.

  “Seriously? I am not fucking you with your parents in the living room drinking tea. There is no way.”

  “Well, how about your place? If that’s what we want to do. We need to talk about some other things first before we do that again.” As much as I wanted to tell her we could just go on being “friends” who had sex, it wasn’t going to work. For either of us. Definitely not for me. And apparently not for her either.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, looking at her nails.

  “Too bad,” I said and her head snapped up. “I know you have all these plans to get the fuck out of this town and have your bakery and you think that being with someone like me is going to ruin that. That I’m going to tie you to this town and you’re going to suffocate and never get out.” I’d been holding these words in for ages and I couldn’t anymore.

  “I don’t want to hold you back. That is the absolute last thing I would want to do, Remi. I want you to have all the things that you want.” I was getting very, very close to telling her that I loved her.

  “I know that,” she finally said in a small voice. “I know you don’t want to chain me here. But I also don’t want to pull you away if you don’t want to go. It’s just an impossible situation, Brooks. You need to stay and I need to go. That’s it. The timing is wrong.” I hated it when people blamed timing on the inability to make something work, but I couldn’t say that this was a lie. It was the truth. Her truth and my truth.

  Our lives were two different paths that had converged for a period of time and then they were going to split off again.

  “So, what do you want to do now? What do you want, Remi?”

  Remi

  I had no idea what to tell him because I wanted a lot of different things. I wanted to rent that apartment and I wanted to have a bakery but I also wanted him. It was ridiculous to deny it anymore. I had fallen hard for Brooks Benson and there was no going back from it now. But it wasn’t enough to make me want to stay.

  So here we were, at an impasse. Couldn’t move forward, couldn’t move back. And neither of us wanted to end things.

  “I don’t fucking know what I want, Brooks! I wish people would stop asking me that.” I noticed there was a rip in my shirt, thanks to his eager hands and that just made me angrier. Angry that I couldn’t have what I wanted. Angry that I couldn’t seem to tell him that I loved him. Angry about this fucking town and everything in it.

  “I just need you to stop talking to me right now. I need you to shut up and to finish this baking so I can get out of here and fucking think. Can we do that?”

  He just clenched his jaw and nodded.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  ****

  Brooks and I baked and frosted and packed everything up in near-silence.

  After we washed the dishes he seemed to still have something to say, but was having a hard time getting it out.

  “What is it?” I said, hoping that would spur him to speak.

  “I brought you something,” he blurted out. “It’s not much, but I just wanted to thank you for helping push me to get back into doing art again.” My heart was feeling too big for my chest and my skin radiated hot and cold as he handed me something flat and square and covered in tissue paper. It had to be something he’d done.

  “Don’t open it now,” he said as I was about to unwrap it.

  “Oh. Okay,” I said, trying not to cry. “Thank you.” Such inadequate words. So useless.

  “You’re welcome, Remington.” He stood so close that only the present was between us. I could feel his breath stirring my hair. I stared at his chest and refused to look up into his eyes because then it would be all over. I’d officially dive over the cliff and never come back out again.

  “Have a good night,” he said, his tone resigned.

  “You too,” I said, sounding like I was choking.

  ****

  I waited until I was alone in my room to tear off the tissue paper.

  “Shit,” I said as I stared at the beautiful charcoal drawing in a simple silver frame. Now the tears came.

  “You’re so fucking talented,” I said as I too
k in the simple scene of stones scattered on the beach, but he’d done something I’d never seen anyone else do and I couldn’t put my finger on why it was so incredible. That was why he was so good. He could make me cry while looking at something simple. Could make me feel things that I’d never known I could feel.

  I wiped my eyes and set the picture down on my bed and drew my feet up, propping my chin on my knees. So many thoughts exploded in my head and I could feel a migraine coming on. Could you get one of those for thinking too much? Was that possible?

  I couldn’t sleep, so I got out my computer and found an email I had missed from the professor at the art college. Yes. Brooks had talent. He should definitely submit.

  I knew it. I knew it.

  I knew he could do it.

  I allowed myself a little smile and then gave him Brooks cell phone number so they could get in contact. He was gonna find out what I’d done, but it didn’t matter. I was heading out and this was going to be my one last good deed for him.

  And hope he didn’t hate me for it.

  ****

  I also made the decision when I woke up the next morning that I was going to suck it up and deal with my parents about moving. I hadn’t signed a lease yet, but I was on my way and I needed Mom to come around by the time I moved.

  When Dad came home, he found me sitting at the kitchen table, messing with my phone and trying not to hyperventilate.

  “Is there something you want to talk to me about?” he asked, pulling out a chair.

  “Um, yeah. And if we could do it fast before Mom comes home, that would be great. I went and looked at that apartment and I want to take it. I really need to move fast if I want to make sure that someone else doesn’t get it. So I need to talk to Mom.” My hands shook a little under the table. Dammit.

  Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “Calm down. It’s going to be okay. You’re acting like you murdered someone. This is not bad news. I knew you were going to make it happen.” He smiled and for the first time in about twenty-four hours, I felt like things were maybe going to be okay, that I wasn’t making a mistake.

  “Thanks, Dad.”