His lips moved along my face toward my ear. “God I missed you,” he whispered, the words and the tickle of his warm breath making me understand how easily Kaylee and Declan got caught up in each other when they were together.
Danger signs started flashing in my head and with every single ounce of willpower I could muster, I pulled back.
His eyes looked a bit wild and his lips were swollen and red and I wanted to crawl into his lap and lose myself in him, but a fraction of my mind knew it was a bad idea. Us even being where we were and alone, was a terrible, bad, stupid idea.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his chest heaving as he breathed hard.
“Nothing. Everything,” I said. “I mean, the kissing is...”
“Perfect,” he breathed, his eyes drifting to my lips again.
God yes. I looked down at my hands in my lap. “Too perfect. I shouldn’t have...”
His hands came to my face again and forced me to look at him, his eyes so close I could see the different shades of gold and brown flecks in his irises. “I’m glad you did, Brooklyn. Thank you for Christmas.”
I shook my head as much as I could while his hands were still on me. “But we shouldn’t be alone together. It’s too hard to resist you.”
He smirked but his eyes were sad. “I can’t resist you. Isn’t that obvious?”
“Exactly,” I said, even though his admission sent a thrill through me.
“But why? I’m not your coach anymore. I’m probably not going to the Olympics. What’s stopping us?” His finger traced along my cheek and down to my mouth, tickling across my bottom lip.
I lifted my hand to his wrist and pulled him away from me. “Please. You have to stop.”
His arm went slack and I let him go, knowing he would keep his hands to himself now.
“I don’t want to be with you just because you’re not my coach or you’re not going to the Olympics. I don’t want to be the reason you don’t do those things. And I definitely don’t want to be your backup plan, either. And what about your mother? What if she found out you were dating a student?”
“But those things are irrelevant, Brooklyn. I won’t be coaching again until I catch up on my schoolwork and can spend more time on my feet. And the Olympics...” he looked away. “I don’t know if I can train again. But it’s going to be months before I can even try. And as far as my mother, we’ll just be careful.”
Tears pooled in my eyes and I shook my head. “No. I’m not going to be the dirty little secret you keep from your mother. I’m not going to sneak around and be the reason you don’t come back to coaching. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I was the reason why you’re putting your life on hold.”
Plus, you don’t even know who I am, I wanted to say but didn’t dare. To give my hands something to do before I decided to chuck it all and pull his face back to mine, I reached for the thermos.
“We should be together,” he said as though that was reason enough.
If only. I looked up at him. “We can’t be together.”
He pressed his lips together and frowned. “We can. You’re just not willing to try.”
Ouch. I grabbed the thermos and shoved it into the shopping bag because I really needed to get out of there.
“Brooklyn?” he grabbed my hand to still it as I reached for the cup that had rolled away. “Look at me.”
I did, not bothering to hide the tears now.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer. “I didn’t mean to be like that, to upset you. But I’m feeling a little desperate here.”
I pulled my hand from his grip. “Brady, we’re torturing ourselves. I never should have done this. I should have known it was a mistake.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again as he wiped my tears away with his thumb. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see him look at me so tenderly because between that and the way he was touching me, it just about killed me.
After a second, I needed to move. I grabbed the shopping bag. “I have to go.”
“Don’t leave like this. Don’t leave angry.”
“Brady, if I’m angry at anyone, it’s myself. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have dragged you here.”
He snorted. “You hardly dragged me.”
Not wanting to respond to that—what good would it do anyway—I stood and he did, too, but I held up my palm to keep him from getting close again. “Give me time to get back into the building before you leave in case there’s anyone out there.”
Not risking looking into his eyes, I turned and left the shed, closing the door behind me. I leaned back against the outside wall and turned my face up to the sky, letting the snowflakes fall on my face as I willed my heart to stop aching.
As I stood there, I could hear voices and laughing, both a girl’s voice and the deep rumble of a guy. Crap, I thought, not because I didn’t want to stumble on a couple hooking up, but because I was coming out of the super-secret bunker and probably looking a mess from the crying. Glad I hadn’t gone overboard with the makeup, I grabbed a handful of clean snow from beside the shed and pressed some under my eyes to help with the swelling. Nature’s eye treatment.
Unable to tell if it worked, but not wanting to risk Brady coming out while I was still there, I wiped the moisture away with my sleeve and snuck around the corner of the shed, leaving my shopping bag in the snow beside the secret door to the shed, not wanting to have to explain to whoever I came across what I’d been doing.
I sighed in relief when I saw it was Chelly and Jared and they were so wrapped up in each other that they hadn’t yet noticed me. They were really so cute together and while I never would have predicted those two getting together before the night of the talent show, looking at them now, I knew they were perfect for each other. I could tell that Chelly felt a bit weird dating him since I had for a short time, worried she was violating the code. But Jared and I had broken up because I knew we were only ever going to be friends and the way he was looking at her now, it was obvious I’d done him a favor when I’d cut him loose. These two were completely and utterly in love with each other.
Which was obvious as I approached; they were so wrapped up in sucking face that they didn’t even notice me.
“Get a room,” I said when it would have been awkward not to say something to break them apart.
They stopped kissing and both turned toward me, laughing, though they both had that look in their eyes that told me they were concerned about what I thought about them being together. I gave them a big smile, as I hurried, not wanting to give them enough time to notice my tear-stained face.
“Where are you coming from?” Chelly said, her face screwing up into a frown.
Crap. I gave her a nonchalant shrug. “Oh you know...Just out in the snow,” sneaking out of the super-secret shed where I just had my heart broken.
You Don’t Need a Love Life to Have Romance
Just about two weeks later it was both Friday the thirteenth AND the day of the Valentine’s dance. That had to be an omen, right?
“I’m not going,” I told Emmie for the thousandth time. I’d just started to get over the whole Brady thing (sort of, more like I’d stopped obsessing about it every single moment) and the last thing I needed was a fresh reminder of my disaster of a love life.
“Come on,” she said as we entered our dorm room after last period. “You have to. You can’t mope about Brady forever.”
Wanna bet? I almost said but knew that would just earn me an eye-roll and more grief about my not wanting to go to the dance. “Really, Emmie, the last thing I need is to go to a dance that is all about love and hooking up and be like the only single person there. It’s depressing. Don’t you know that more women kill themselves on Valentine’s Day than the other three-hundred and sixty-four days?”
She looked at me sideways. “Is that true?”
I shrugged. “It could be true.”
She sighed and let the door close behind her with a loud ker-chunk. “Anyway, Danny’s not
coming, and Celia’s still single, so you’re not the only one of us who will be without a guy there.”
“Still,” I said, dropping my books on my bed.
“You afraid to see him?” she asked, all joking gone from her voice.
Knowing exactly who she meant by him, I nodded, not looking at her. “Yeah. Though afraid might not be the right word.”
“What is?” she asked, dropping down on her bed and motioning for me to sit on mine.
“There isn’t just one word that covers it,” I said. “Except maybe nausea.”
Emmie snorted.
“It’s just,” I started and then looked at my roommate, one of my best friends here at Rosewood; I could pretty much tell her anything. “I want to see him so badly, but every time I do, it’s a disaster.”
“But you haven’t seen him,” she said, frowning.
Right, because I hadn’t told any of them that I’d seen Brady since returning to the states. So much for telling her stuff. “It’s complicated,” I said, hoping that would be a good enough answer for her.
“Just come to the dance, Brooklyn. He probably won’t even be there and if he is, well, you can make out with him in the supply closet or something.”
I couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that, but then looked at her. “It’s not funny, Emmie,” I said and then realized I had just laughed and still had a smile on my face. Which pretty much died right then. “Not the big picture part of it,” I corrected.
She opened her mouth to, I’m sure, continue her attempt at persuasion but I held up my hand to stop her.
“Please, Emmie. I know you think you can wear me down and to be honest, you probably can, but just trust me when I say I really don’t want to go tonight. I don’t want to see him and even if he’s not there, I’m not in the mood to watch Chelly and Kaylee make out with their boyfriends all night.”
“It’s pretty gross, isn’t it?” she said, screwing up her face.
I laughed again. “No worse than when you and Danny do it.”
“That isn’t gross, that’s beautiful. Art, some might say.”
“Yeah, because all art is painted with saliva. Tell me that’s not gross.”
She threw a pillow at me which I managed to duck easily.
“Fine,” she said, laughing. After a moment, her face got serious and she added, “You’re sure you’re okay with Abe and Chelly?”
“More than okay,” I assured her. “They’re actually pretty darn adorable together.”
“Right? He is so into her,” she said dreamily. As though her hot tattooed guy wasn’t totally gone on her.
“It’s mutual,” I said, thinking of Chelly’s recent giddiness and how her boycraziness had now become focused solely on one guy. She was completely smitten.
“Well as liaison again, I have to go to the dance, which is kind of a bummer with Danny not being there. You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Emmie asked and then when I exhaled loudly through my nose, she held up her palms toward me. “Fine okay, I get it. I will make an exception and take no for an answer.” She gave me a mischievous look. “This time.”
Just then there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Emmie yelled.
Celia stuck her head in and I waved her into the room. She came in and dropped heavily onto the end of Emmie’s bed and looked at me. “Please tell me you’re not going to the dance.”
“I’m definitely not going to the dance.”
She exhaled in relief. “Good. We will have a united front against Kaylee and Chelly and their matchmaking attempts.” Then she gave Emmie a suspicious look. “Yours too, I’m guessing.”
Emmie shook her head. “Brooklyn already told me she’s not going and since she’s still pining over her hot horse coach, there’s not much I can do to get her hooked up with someone else. You are still fair game, however.”
Celia rolled her too blue to be true eyes. “Nice try.”
“Jenks will be at the dance,” Emmie said, not to be deterred.
“So?” Celia asked, trying to appear unaffected.
Emmie didn’t buy it either. “So, he’s single. You can hook up with him.”
Celia shook her head as she exhaled. “I only get the friend-zone vibe from him.”
“I’ve never seen him with anyone,” Emmie observed. “Maybe he bats for the other team.”
I didn’t know Jenks very well at all, but I supposed it could be possible.
“What is going on with your hot chef?” Emmie asked, changing gears. I was glad she asked because I wanted to know the answer, too, but I couldn’t exactly say anything after making such a huge deal about not wanting my friends’ help for a hook up.
Celia shrugged. “Nothing. We cook, he ignores me, I leave the kitchen. End of story.”
Emmie frowned. “But he’ll be at the dance, won’t he?”
“I don’t know. But...” she sighed. “I think he just doesn’t like me.”
“What’s not to like?!” Emmie demanded, gesturing at our friend. “You’re exotic, athletic, famous, rich...”
“My family is rich, my uncle is famous. Athletic I’ll give you,” she said, with a shrug. “And exotic? Whatever, I guess. But I’m also dumb and like five minutes away from getting kicked out of here. Not much point in getting myself a boyfriend if I’m getting shipped home. Even if he did like me, which he doesn’t. He barely acknowledges me in the kitchen. I thought...I thought there was something there at the beginning, but either I read him wrong or he changed his mind.”
Emmie and I exchanged glances. “Are you really going to get kicked out?” I asked. I knew she wasn’t doing well in her classes, but I figured that had more to do with her not doing any schoolwork than her being dumb. Because while Celia wasn’t committed to school, she sure wasn’t dumb. I’d always figured if she spent half as much time with her nose in a textbook as she did reading romance novels, she’d be an A student. Her problem always struck me more as one of motivation than intelligence.
“Probably,” she said, seeming not as concerned as I thought she should be. Although a muscle in her cheek twitched, which was maybe the sign that she was more concerned than she was letting on.
“I thought Kaylee was helping you?”
She snorted at that. “Not exactly.”
I glanced at Emmie again and then back. “I thought she said she was trying to tutor you...”
“She did try, yes,” Celia said. “It didn’t really work out.”
I thought about Kaylee and how she’d said if she didn’t get into med school, she was planning to become a teacher. “Really? I thought she’d be a good tutor.”
Celia exhaled and picked at her nails avoiding looking at either of us. “I don’t think she’s the problem.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Thank God for Emmie. “What does that mean?”
Shrug. “I’m stupid.”
“What?” I asked, thinking for a second that I’d misheard her.
She looked up at me. “I’m stupid. I can’t learn properly.”
“You are NOT stupid,” Emmie said, sounding all mama bear about it.
“I am. I just don’t get all that stuff. Every time Kaylee tried to help me, I felt even stupider and it made me mad and embarrassed. I probably took it out on her, which wasn’t exactly fair, but...” she shrugged again.
“Maybe you can get a tutor you don’t know,” Emmie suggested. “Like a paid tutor that you don’t have to sleep in the same room with.”
“And who won’t smother me with a pillow someday?” Celia said.
“At least you can laugh about it,” I said, smiling, remembering a couple of their fights that I’d been witness to.
“Only because I love Kaylee and I know she’s just looking out for me,” Celia said sincerely. “And because I have serious ninja reflexes and would totally kick her ass before she got anywhere near me.”
“Of course,” I said. “That, too.”
“But I don’t know,” Celia sai
d, getting serious again. “Maybe I would be better off if the dean did kick me out. I’ll just go work for my uncle.”
“Is that what you really want to do?” Emmie asked.
Celia shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m good at sports, but not good enough to make a career out of it. I’m not exactly cut out for college.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Emmie said. “But you should still finish high school. Don’t get kicked out. What would we do without you?”
Looking at Emmie’s face, I could tell she was totally serious. We were such a tight-knit group of friends and while someday we would graduate and go our separate ways, we still had over a year until that happened.
“I don’t want to leave. It’s just...it’s so hard for me.”
“We will help you,” I said, determined. “Whatever it takes.”
Celia’s blue eyes got glassy as she nodded. “Thanks,” she said, her voice hoarse.
I nodded, understanding that maybe she was avoiding schoolwork because she hated failing over and over, doing only the bare minimum to get by. Though obviously that wasn’t working anymore. “So what are we doing tonight?” I asked in an effort to lighten the mood.
She made a face. “I was just planning to read a new book I got, although now I’m thinking I should probably study or write a term paper or something.”
“No,” I shook my head. “You’re taking tonight off. We’ll start on all that stuff, but not tonight.”
She exhaled in relief. “Thanks.”
I was just about to ask her what she wanted to do when Chelly appeared in the doorway.
“Hello, girls! I’m here to get beautiful for my hot child actor.”
Celia snorted and I rolled my eyes.
“Former child actor,” I corrected. “Otherwise that sounds gross.”
And anyway, like she didn’t always look amazing wearing that confidence of hers, not to mention the red hair and her curves. No wonder Jared was crazy for her. I was half in love with her and I like guys.
“Whatever,” she said. “I need to make myself even more kissable. And maybe feel-upable. We’ll see...”
I turned to Celia. “I think this is our cue to leave and go to your room.”
Hitting the Target Page 4
