“You look a bit...out of sorts,” he said, his voice soft as he smiled at me, the kind of smile that did dangerous things to me. “Also, I like the hair.” He reached up and tugged at a strand, curling it around his finger.
I almost jumped him right there. Right. Freaking. There. Be strong, Brooklyn, I told myself.
“Why are you down here, Brady?” I asked.
The smile dissolved from his lips and he took a deep breath. “I guess I needed some time to myself, too. I’m hiding out.”
“From who?”
He exhaled and shrugged. “My mother. The world. I don’t know.”
“Your mother doesn’t know you’re down here?”
“No.”
That seemed incomprehensible, since she was the dean and presumably knew just about everything. “Would she not lose it if she did?”
“In a really big way. She sent me to Sacramento, but my dad and I never get along. I stayed long enough to get the cast removed and then I was out of there.”
Right. His injury. I dragged my eyes from his face and looked down, but he was wearing regular sneakers. “How is your foot?”
He shrugged, his nonchalance not fooling me for a second. I decided to let it go for now. I was hardly one to judge about not telling whole truths.
“So you snuck back on campus?”
“Under the darkness of night,” he said, smirking. “I got a cab to Westwood from the airport and climbed the fence back here before anyone could see me.”
“How very resourceful of you,” I teased. “But your mother won’t talk to your father?”
“I don’t think so. She thinks I’m still there, he thinks I’m here.” He paused, looking down at his feet, maybe thinking about his injury. “I just couldn’t handle it all, you know? It seemed like everything was going wrong and I needed to clear my head. Is that crazy?”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I get it.”
A smile spread across his lips. “Thanks.”
I didn’t dare tell him I’d missed him, worried it would be too much. He had enough on his plate without having to deal with me coming back and being all heartsick about him. But then a voice, one that sounded like Tristan’s whispered in my ear, “Be confident. Be the girl who gets what she wants.”
But that voice didn’t know about our history. That voice didn’t know the many obstacles that stood between us. And that voice didn’t care about Brady’s Olympic dreams. But I did.
And as I thought about Tristan and what had happened with him, I realized I now understood the difference between hormone-fueled lust and...well, whatever this was with Brady.
Because while what had happened with Tristan had been heady and intoxicating, how I felt about Brady was those things and more. And dangerous, because my heart was involved and I was very aware of just how fragile it was in his hands.
“So,” he said. “I guess you have to get to class.”
I nodded, realizing he was politely getting rid of me.
“How long are you staying down here?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Probably not much longer. I guess I have to go back to school sometime.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I assured him, though he knew me well enough to know that was never going to be an issue.
“I know,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
So that was that, I guess. “Okay, I’d better go,” I said, turning back toward the stairs.
“Brooklyn?” he said, making me turn back, my stomach churning in anticipation of what he was going to say or maybe do.
“Yeah?”
“I missed...our lessons.”
I searched his face, but while he looked at me with his usual intensity, I didn’t see my own feelings reflected in his eyes. I knew he still liked me, but he didn’t like me enough. He’s missed our lessons, he hadn’t missed me.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and squeaked out, “Me, too,” before I climbed the stairs and left the shed.
Coming Clean
For the first time in my life, exhaustion was working for me. After not sleeping much the night before, spending the day back in classes and then homework, I was like the walking dead. So much so, that when it came time to meet Dave in the lounge that night, my body refused to throw any adrenaline into the mix. So while I felt like I should be nervous about what was to come, I was actually pretty chill.
I hadn’t planned to actually see him yet, but realized by lunchtime that the longer I put it off, the worse it was going to be when I finally did see him and end things before they even really had begun, so I’d texted to let him know I was back and that we should get together to talk. Maybe that was enough of a clue that we weren’t going to be picking up where we left off.
Though as I walked into the busy lounge, it was obvious he was no detective. He gave me a smile as he stood up from his chair, the legs making a scraping sound even over all the voices in the lounge; a lot of couples were getting caught up after the holidays.
“Wow. Hi,” he said, his smile growing broader as he gave me a once-over. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You look pretty great yourself.” Which was true. He really was a stunner. If only that was enough...
“Hey! There she is!”
I swiveled around to see Jared standing right behind me, looking genuinely happy to see me and not in an I-wish-I-was-your-boyfriend way, but in a happy-to-see-my-friend way, which was exactly what I needed right then.
He pulled me into a hug and muttered into my ear, “I hope everything’s okay. We missed you around here.”
I pulled back and nodded. “Everything’s fine,” I said. “And I missed you guys, too.” Then I looked between the two of them, starting to feel a bit awkward about Jared hanging around considering our history. “So what are you doing here?”
He nodded toward Dave. “I drove. He took some Benadryl earlier and didn’t want to drive.”
I glanced at Dave. “Not a shrimp incident, I hope,” I said, feeling my cheeks heat up at the memory of that other shrimp incident.
“No,” Dave said. “Just doing some cleaning after the break—dust got me going.”
“So,” Jared began, suddenly looking sheepish. “I know you just got back but...uh...I was wondering if...”
Crap. His manuscript. I realized in that second that I hadn’t seen it since returning and had a bad feeling that I’d left it in the lounge before I took off back to London. “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t take it with me to London. Can you give me some more time with it? Or is it too late?”
I was probably going to have to come clean with him (the theme of the day, it seemed), but there was a chance the manuscript was still in the lounge or maybe Emmie had grabbed it for me and just forgot to tell me.
“It’s not too late,” he said. “But I have to send it to my agent soon, so...”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m on it and am looking forward to finishing it.” I hoped, really hoped that it was still in the lounge.
“Thanks,” he said, giving me a smile, then looked at Dave. “Anyway,” he continued, speaking loudly, “I’m not here to intrude. I’ll go watch the rehearsal in the auditorium. We drove Declan over, too.”
I nodded, reminded that Kaylee and Chelly would be in there, working on the joint schools’ production of Romeo and Juliet.
“Thanks, man,” Dave said.
We sat down at one of the empty tables.
“So,” he began. “Everything’s okay with your dad?”
I nodded. “Yeah. How was your holiday?”
He shrugged. “Same old. Yours?”
“Fine,” I said, wondering if there had ever been a more boring conversation between two people in the history of conversations. I was thinking maybe not.
Then he looked around the lounge, which was pretty full, and grabbed my hand, leading me out into the hallway and around the corner to an alcove beside the auditorium. I could faintly hear the voices coming from the rehearsal ins
ide, but they faded into the background as I focused on his very serious face, wondering what he was about to say. To say that I was worried was an understatement.
I opened my mouth, but he shook his head, stopping me.
“Please. Just let me say this,” he said, his nervousness evident in his fidgeting and pained expression.
Please don’t say how much you’ve missed me or anything to do with the L word, I thought, my whole body tense in anticipation. Nope, I can’t let him blurt something out he’s going to regret in less than ten seconds. “Dave, I think...”
“Please, Brooklyn.”
Oh God. “Okay.” Even my intestines were clenched.
He exhaled. “I don’t think we should see each other.”
The sound of brakes screeching to a halt? Yeah, that happened in my head.
“What?”
“I’m so sorry. I know I was all about us dating before you left and I totally wanted it. I really did, but I’m just not...” his face flushed and he looked away before he went on. “I’m not over Emmie. I thought I was, but I had a lot of time to think over the holidays and it’s sort of messing me up.”
So this was completely unexpected. “Dave,” I said as gently as I could. “She’s with someone else now.” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it.
He stared at me for a long, agonizing moment and I wondered if he’d even known about Danny, Emmie’s new guy. I wasn’t about to go into it, though, realizing Dave was giving me an out and making it seem like he should be over her was only going to complicate things more.
“Though I understand where you’re coming from, believe me,” I said. “It was probably too soon for either of us.”
He swallowed and then nodded. “I figured. I mean, after you left and said not to wait for you...” He shrugged.
I wanted to tell him it hadn’t been me he’d be texting with, but realized it wouldn’t change anything. “I’m really sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about, but...is Fleming a factor in this? I know he’s into you, but is that part of it, too?” he asked, catching me off guard. I mean, it made sense that he would ask, but I hadn’t been expecting it.
No point lying now. “Yes and no,” I said. “I mean, he and I can’t be together for a lot of reasons, but until I get him out of my head, it’s not really fair to be with anyone, so yeah, I guess I’m in the same place.” It was supposed to be a good thing that I respected and liked Dave enough to tell him the truth, but he still looked hurt. Which made sense because although I’d come here to tell him the exact same thing—that we couldn’t be together—it sort of hurt that he didn’t want me, either.
“I’m really sorry, Brooklyn.”
“I am too,” I said. All I seemed to do these days was apologize for everything. I was like the opposite of King Midas; instead of turning stuff to gold, I turned it all into crap.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not like we were long term or anything. And it’s so not about you; just really bad timing, right?”
I nodded and gave him a hug. “You’re so sweet and cute.”
“And such a good friend,” he said with a goofy frown that made me laugh.
“Well yes, sad clown, but someday once you get Emmie out of your system, you will find the perfect girl who will so not want to be your friend.”
“Sure, sure,” he said on a sigh and then stood up and held out his hand.
“Where are we going?” I said, rising and sliding my fingers into his.
“This calls for hot chocolate.”
He was right, of course, so I let him lead me down the hallway to the dining room, feeling like I’d just unloaded the weight of the earth from my shoulders, wondering if he was feeling the same.
Maybe what I’d said to Dave was right—it wasn’t right to date anyone while my heart was still stuck on Brady. Not that I saw that ending anytime soon.
I sighed, suddenly wishing I was back in London, which made no sense, considering I’d been desperate to get out of London to get back here.
“What’s the matter?” Dave asked, grabbing my far shoulder and pulling me in against him.
“I’m just really tired,” I said. Suddenly so exhausted that I thought about just laying down right there in the hallway.
Before I knew what was happening, Dave put his hands on my shoulders and I got turned around and was walking the other way, back toward the lounge. “Wha?”
“You need to go to bed,” Dave said. “I meant it when I said you look great, but what I didn’t say was that you look exhausted. Now I feel bad for keeping you up when you obviously need sleep.”
“Don’t feel bad,” I said. “I was the one who texted you to meet.”
He screwed up his face. “Wait. Were you going to tell me we couldn’t see each other?”
“Maybe?”
He gave me a sad smile. “Nonetheless. You need rest.” He stopped at the elevator, yanking me to a halt beside him as he pressed the button.
“You’re a good guy,” I said, smiling up at him.
“Yeah, I know. And cute, too. I do listen, you know.”
“Is it totally condescending of me to tell you that I know you’re going to end up with the love of your life because you are all that?”
“Yes, but say it anyway,” he said.
I reached up onto my tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. He really was all that and I was one-hundred percent certain that if I had never gone into the stables, he and I would be together. But I didn’t have a time machine and as much as I’d crushed hard on Dave from that very first day on campus when he’d slammed into me at the check-in table, as long as Brady was around, it just wasn’t going to happen for us.
“Goodnight, Dave,” I said and got into the elevator, turning back toward him.
“Goodnight, Brooklyn,” he said with a sad smile as the doors closed on him.
~ ♥ ~
“So what are you saying, that you’re going to become a nun?” Emmie asked after I told my story, except for the whole Dave being hung up on her part. She and I were sitting in our dorm room with Chelly and Celia. Kaylee was lingering downstairs with Declan after rehearsal.
“No,” I said, laughing as I kicked off my slippers and nudged Celia down toward the end of my bed so I could get in. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just not going to date. I’m done with guys.”
Chelly gasped and crossed herself. “Don’t even!”
I rolled my eyes and slid between the sheets. “Not permanently. Just...the thing with Brady...”
“But he’s not even here,” Celia said.
I shrugged, not about to tell them he was on campus since A. I’d promised I wouldn’t tell anyone and B. I didn’t think telling them about the bunker was a very good idea. “I need to get him out of my head or I’m just going to ruin every single relationship. I don’t want to be that girl.”
“You’re nuts,” Chelly offered. “Just casually date. You don’t need anything serious. And then when your hot coach comes around, you can just kick Mr. Right Now to the curb.”
“You’ve obviously given this a lot of thought,” Emmie said, flashing Chelly a sardonic look. “But I think Brooklyn’s being smart. There’s nothing wrong with being on your own and waiting for the right guy.”
“Says the girl with the hot felon,” Chelly said.
Emmie threw a pillow at her.
“Well I think you’re being smart, too,” Celia weighed in. “Emmie’s right. There’s nothing wrong with being on your own.”
“Your hot chef still not making a move?” Chelly asked.
Celia screwed up her face, which was as good an answer as any.
“We’re going to have to do something about that,” Chelly said.
“No thank you,” Celia returned.
“Okay, yeah,” Chelly said, not convincing anyone. “So, what’s our next event with the boys?” She looked at Emmie who was back to her old job as School Liaison
now that the dean had relieved me of my community service assignment.
“The talent show,” Emmie said with a smile. “I talked to Kaylee and she said she was going to have you guys do a scene from the play as sort of a commercial for it.”
“That’ll be fun,” Celia said.
Chelly snorted. “That’ll be hilarious. We kind of suck.”
“Even better,” Celia grinned. “I can’t wait.”
I slid down, arranging my head on the pillow so I could still see the girls, though I knew I wasn’t going to last long after the day I’d had. “It’s good to be back,” I said, closing my eyes.
As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but think that there was no better lullaby than having my best friends talking and laughing around me.
Epilogue
As I sat at my desk, working on my homework, an e-mail came in from my Dad. He was still in London with Mom, but they were packing up the flat and would be coming back to the States soon. Both of them were notably happier and I was, too—getting my dad out of that job was definitely a good thing, even if it meant I’d had to live like a recluse for six weeks.
I opened the e-mail—subject line: Something to show you—right away, knowing it must be something important since Dad almost never e-mailed. I got almost all my news from Mom.
Hi honey, I hope you’re doing well at school and that you didn’t have too much to catch up on. Your mother says she spoke to your dean who had only nice things to say about you and that you were a very promising member of the equestrian team. Finally all those lessons paid off!
But the real reason for this e-mail, besides telling you your old man loves you, is to let you know that I spoke to Tristan about that program and he thought it was a great idea. I took him to an information session and I think it’s going to really help him. He wanted me to thank you for him and he said to tell you he owes you a ticket to Phantom of the Opera in five years. It’s not going to take him that long to get a dog, so I wasn’t really sure what he was talking about, but he said you’d understand. Anyway, I’ve attached a picture of him from the information session where he got to meet some of the therapy dogs.
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