"You don't?" he asked.
What was the question? Oh yeah, do I hate him. "No, I don't," I said " Not even a little bit."
I knew it was the wrong thing to do, but I couldn't stop myself from reaching out to touch his face. I put my hand right on his cheek with my fingertips extending toward the cut on his eyebrow. And, of course, Shane Rollins walked out the door the moment I did it and caught me in the act. I pulled my hand off of his face like it was a hot stove and stepped backward.
"Oh, hey, Trish. I didn't know you guys were…" Shane trailed off and looked at Brock. "Chelsea said you looked a little pale when you came out here, so I thought I'd come check on you." Shane stared back and forth between us, and I could tell he was genuinely trying to make sure his brother was okay—like he thought I might've been checking Brock's temperature or something. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine," Brock insisted. "Do I look pale to you?"
Shane threw a hand in the air. "I can't really see you from here."
"I'm fine," Brock repeated. "We're fine. I'll be back in a minute."
Shane retreated into the building without another word leaving Brock and I standing there. I smiled at him with wide eyes, and he stared back at me with furrowed eyebrows and an annoyed expression. "Do I look pale to you?"
"No," I said, laughing.
He sighed. "I guess we should get back inside."
"Yep," I said. "I'm freezing."
"You know you're still not off the hook with giving me that thing you bought."
"Yeah, but the thing is, now it's built up too much. You're going to have it in your head that it's something great, and it's just an itty bitty, insignificant thing I picked up."
"I don't have anything built up," he said. "I just want what's rightfully mine."
I laughed, and we started walking toward the entrance.
"Hey Trish," he said from behind me before we reached the door.
I stopped walking and turned to face him with a smile. "Huh?" I could barely even get the noise out of my throat because Brock walked into me. Without hesitation, or even asking permission, he ducked and placed a quick kiss right on my lips. My gut clinched and my knees went instantly weak, but I didn't even have time to appreciate the sensation because it was over as quickly as it happened. As soon as his soft lips touched mine, they were gone again, and just like that, he was ushering me back into the building.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you don't hate me," he said as he reached out for the door.
A blast of music hit us as soon as the door opened. That was not enough time! I needed more time with him! Why did we have to go back inside so quickly? What was I supposed to do now—act like that never happened?
"There you are!" I heard. I turned to find Ryan standing by the front door. "I got worried about you," he said.
"We just stepped outside for a second," I said, motioning to Brock. Ryan and Brock nodded at each other with a lift of the chin the way you guys do before shaking hands.
"It was good seeing you, Trish," Brock said.
"You too," I returned. "I'll text you about dropping off that thing."
He smiled but didn't say anything else.
"What are you dropping off?" Ryan asked on our way back to the table.
Couldn't I get a few seconds privacy with Brock without everyone needing to know what we were doing or what we were talking about?
"I got him a gift for getting my ring back," I said.
He thankfully didn't ask anymore about it. We sat at our table and watched the rest of the concert, which would have been completely amazing had I not been preoccupied with thoughts of Brock the whole time.
I couldn't get him out of my head. His face, his voice, his kiss—everything about him replayed in my head like a song stuck on repeat. I pictured that night at the shop when he answered the door without a shirt, and then I pictured the way we looked into each other's eyes, and the way he kissed me just now and said he was glad I didn't hate him. I was never like this with guys. I hadn't even been this crazy about his brother, and he was my boyfriend for crying out loud.
It was making me antsy wondering what he was doing on the other side of the room with Chelsea. By the time the concert was over, I had myself believing everything that happened outside was a dream, and Brock Rollins was on the other side of the room making out with Chelsea and living happily ever after with her. We saw them at the door on the way out, and it made me extremely happy to find that they weren't making any physical contact whatsoever. I tried my best not to look in their direction, but a few stolen glances were unavoidable.
My roommates and I congratulated Micah and his band on a great job and told them we enjoyed the show. Everyone else was trying to do the same thing, so we made it brief and headed towards the car.
Ryan, Isaac, and Annie decided to go out since it was still relatively early. They wanted to go dancing and assumed I would go along for the ride. I originally said I'd pass, but I changed my mind since they begged, and I didn't want to end up home alone daydreaming about Brock. Isaac knew of a good DJ playing at a place called Soar, and the three of them decided, with no input from me, that we would go there. We went to the club without even going home first.
Then I had an idea. It was probably the most middle school idea I had since, well, middle school, but somehow it seemed like the right thing to do. I got out my phone, found Brock's contact information, and composed a text.
Me: "Hey chica, we just left that concert and we're headed to Soar for a little dancing. You and Jason should come meet us."
The plan was to accidently send a text that was meant for my friend Rachel to Brock in hopes that he would take the bait. I stared at my phone for several long seconds before I sent it, knowing how ridiculous the whole plan was, but I was desperate. I couldn’t get him off my mind, and I had to at least make an attempt at seeing him again—especially since we were both dressed to go out.
I sat there with my finger hovering over the send button for a full minute. I knew it was a dorky thing to do, but I had to reach out to him, and anything else would be obvious. I pressed send, feeling on the inside like I wanted to let out a big girly squeal which I couldn't do since I was in the vehicle with my roommates.
I broke out in a cold sweat and my heart started racing the second I sent it. I shoved my phone back into my purse and proceeded to chat away nervously with my roommates. I let a few minutes pass before I reached in my purse to check my phone.
There was a text from Brock, and I stared at it with a huge grin on my face.
Brock: "You got the wrong number, but I think you might have done it on purpose."
My smile faded and blood rose to my face as I read it. Was he seriously calling me out? My heart felt like it might beat right out of my chest. I reached out and adjusted the air conditioner vents so it would blow on my face, but all that came out was hot air. I began adjusting the dials to make cold air come out.
"What are you doing?" Ryan asked, glancing over the console at me.
"I'm hot," I said.
"It's like forty degrees outside," he said, with an are you insane expression.
I cracked the window and held my face up to it, letting the rush of cold air hit me.
"What's wrong with you?" Annie asked from the back seat. "It's freezing out there. Roll that up."
"I had a heat flash," I said.
"What are you, menopausal or something?" Ryan teased. He glanced at me, and I stuck my tongue out at him. I took a few deep breaths before rolling the window up.
I stared at my phone wondering how I should respond. As I was looking at it, another text came in from Brock.
Brock: "Was that an invitation to meet you out?"
I wanted to deny that it was meant for him, but if I did, he would think I didn't want him to come.
"Middle school!" I said out loud even though I didn't mean to.
"What about it?" Ryan asked.
I sighed and shook my head, not answering his question.
"You're so weird," he said, smiling as he drove.
I stared at my phone again.
Me: "I'm headed to Soar now. I'll be there for a couple of hours."
I pressed send on the text, knowing it neither confirmed nor denied that it was an invitation. I threw the phone in my purse again. I was so mad at myself for being a big dork who sent fake texts. Why couldn't I have just sent him a real text and invited him to come? Why I couldn't I just come out with the truth and say I wanted to see him? Because he was on a date with Chelsea, that's why. He might still be with her for all I knew.
I made a conscious decision to put Brock Rollins out of my mind. It was a good night. I had just been to a great show and was about to put my dancing shoes on for one of the best DJ's in town. I had made it just fine all these years without giving Brock Rollins a second thought, so why should I start tonight?
Chapter 13
Isaac was right about the DJ at Soar. He played such good beats that it was impossible to stand still. The four of us went onto the dance floor as soon as we got there.
The place was wall to wall with people, dancing to the pulsing rhythm. The music was loud, so none of us bothered with talking to each other besides the occasional times we couldn't resist pointing someone out because of their extreme dancing or choice of wardrobe.
We'd been there for about an hour when Annie pulled me off the dance floor because she wanted me to go with her to get something to drink.
"I think maybe Isaac likes me," she said, yelling in my ear over the music on our way there.
That was an understatement, but it was the first time she had ever mentioned it or even acted like she noticed it.
"You do?" I asked. "What makes you say that?"
"Because it seemed like he got jealous when that guy asked me to dance earlier."
"What do you think about it?" I asked.
"I just saw that guy who was at the concert tonight," she said, ignoring my question. The shift in subject had me confused.
"What?"
"The guy from the concert earlier. He's standing right over there."
I stopped in my tracks and looked into the crowd, trying desperately to see who she was talking about.
"Come on, I'm really thirsty," she said, tugging on my arm.
"Just go. I'll meet you back here when you're done."
She made a disappointed face and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something to protest, but changed her mind as she took in my expression. "That's the one you like, huh?"
I nodded since there was no sense in denying it.
She smiled and reached up to adjust my hair. She took a few seconds to tuck and position various strands that had come loose as I was dancing. "Go get him," she said.
I breathed a long sigh. "You okay to go to the bar by yourself?" I asked.
"Of course, I really just wanted to talk to you about Isaac."
"He does like you," I said. "But don't tell him you heard that from me."
Annie smiled and her eyes widened. "He does?" she asked. It was obvious she was happy about the possibility, which made me sad I hadn't told her sooner.
"Totally," I said.
"You'll have to tell me about it when we get home."
"I will, I promise." I stopped to look into the crowd again. "Where'd you see Brock?"
She pointed and I followed her finger, but couldn't see him. "Just walk that way," she said. "You'll see him."
I did as Annie instructed. I was sweaty from dancing and my nerves were on edge, but I was ecstatic at the thought that he might have actually come.
I was about ten feet from Brock when I first spotted him. He was in his usual stance with his hands in his pockets as he looked out onto the dance floor. I couldn't believe he had actually come. I walked toward him feeling like I was seeing things. The music was loud, and the lights flashed, moved, and pulsed to the rhythm. I stared at him as I approached, watching the different colored lights move over his face, causing all the right sorts of shadows. He stared at the dance floor with an unreadable expression, and I pushed my way through the crowd to get to him.
I was standing right beside him, but he still hadn't noticed me. I tapped him on the shoulder gently and he turned to face me, giving me an easy smile the second he laid eyes on me.
"What are you doing here? I yelled over the music.
"You invited me!" he yelled back.
"I thought I was inviting my friend Rachel," I said.
"No you didn't," he said, smiling.
I narrowed my eyes and punched his shoulder playfully. "Fine, you caught me. But I couldn't really come right out and invite you out since you were on a hot date with another girl."
"I told you I wasn't on a date with that girl. I just sat beside her at the table."
"Yeah, Carly told me you don't really date," I said, still yelling.
"What's Carly know?"
"She knew Chelsea had a crush on you and that you would be there together tonight."
Just as I was finishing my statement, someone in the crowd stumbled and bumped into me, causing me to get off-balance and sending me stumbling forward. Brock caught me and effortlessly helped me regain my balance. I was significantly closer to him after that happened, and I was thankful to whoever had pushed me.
"That's exactly why I hate these places," he said. He looked at me. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I assured him. "Do you want to dance?"
"Not really."
"Why?"
"Because it's too packed out there, and everybody's acting like idiots."
"Why'd you come?"
"To see you."
I could not contain the giant grin that forced its way across my face when he said that. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him onto the crowded dance floor. I turned to speak to him as we walked. "I'm not going to torture you too much," I said, "but you came all this way, so I'm making you dance with me at least once."
I noticed Ryan on the way out there, but he was off to the side, preoccupied with talking to a group of people he must've recognized. The dance floor was too packed for anyone to care what Brock and I were doing, and I took pleasure in disappearing into the crowd with him. The music was loud, the lights were sporadic, and the people around us pulsed and swayed. I found a tiny little open spot for us, and when I did, I turned to face him with a smile. We were close to a set of speakers, which made it so loud that it was impossible to hear each other. I got really close to him, stood on my tiptoes, and put my mouth right next to his ear, wrapping my hand around the back of his head to hold him close.
"Are you okay?" I asked, hoping the chaos wasn't too much for him.
"I am… with you like this," he said, speaking into my ear.
I smiled at him before taking his hand and placing it on the small of my back. He lifted his eyebrows at me with a smirk.
"One dance," I said.
I couldn't believe it. I thought, based on Brocks reluctance to get on the dance floor, that he would be awkward out there, but I was dead wrong. The guy had moves, and I'm not talking about cheesy stuff like the sprinkler or the running man—I'm talking about real, smooth, hot-guy moves, like he wrote the book on the right way to dance in a club.
My hopeless attraction to him was getting worse by the second. We danced for two songs before I pulled him off of the dance floor. "How do you dance so well?" I said. "I thought you were going to stink it up out there."
He laughed. "Thanks a lot."
"No, I'm just saying. I thought you weren't really the type to go out, and then you go out there and move like a professional or something."
"Just because I don't like to go out doesn't mean I can't dance," he said.
"Obviously!" I said, laughing.
"Trishhh!" I heard from a few feet away as Brock and I walked.
I knew it was Ryan the instant I heard his voice, and I looked back and motioned with a flick of my head for Brock to follow me. Ryan was standing with the same group of people I'd s
een him with earlier, and he introduced me to all of them. I, in turn, introduced Brock. We talked for a few minutes before Brock leaned in to speak to me.
"I really should get going," he said.
I gave him a disappointed expression.
"I've got a client coming by the shop to pick up a piece in the morning," he said, "and you have your friends here." He nudged his chin in the general direction of Ryan when he said that and I knew what he was implying.
"Ryan and I are friends," I said.
He smiled. "Why don't you tell him that?"
"He knows," I said. I glanced at Ryan to make sure he wasn't overhearing any of this.
"I'll see you around," Brock said pinching my shoulder playfully like an older brother would. "I'm glad you accidentally invited me, though."
I hated that he was being so aloof. It seemed like he didn't care if or when he ever saw me again. "It wasn't an accident," I said stubbornly. "I already told you I invited you on purpose." I stared at him, desperately wanting him to stay. My eyes roamed over his entire face. He was so rugged and handsome, and the battle wounds made him even more irresistible. I stared at his mouth remembering what it felt like on mine.
"You better stop it," he said.
"Stop what?" I asked innocently, meeting his eyes again.
"You better stop looking at me like that."
"Or what?" I asked.
"Or I'm going to embarrass you in front of all your friends."
"How could you possibly embarrass me?"
"You know how," he said. I thought of the possibility of having him kiss me in front of Ryan. I knew it might make things a little weird between us, but I wanted him to do it so badly that I didn't care.
"I don't get embarrassed," I said.
"Don't tempt me, little girl," he warned.
I crossed my arms. "I have no idea what you mean," I said, staring relentlessly at his mouth. I bit my lower lip for added emphasis.
The corner of it lifted into a sly smile. "Yes you do," he said. We stared at each other for a few long seconds. "I better go," he added, finally.
I narrowed my eyes and scrunched up my face at him. "I can't believe you're gonna leave me hanging like that," I said.
Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me Book 3) Page 9
