“Want to see the office?”
“Of course.”
We walk side by side and I open the door for her to go into the office.
The black and white floor gleams and I know it won’t always be that way, but I love how clean and shiny it is right now. It’s not completed yet, but it’s finished enough that Katie can get the idea of what it’s going to look like. The space is going to double as a break room so there’s a fridge, microwave, and small kitchen area in one corner, a desk, leather couch, and small table in the other.
“This is so great, Brody.” Katie trails a fingertip over the laminate countertop (I wasn’t going to splurge on granite) and turns around to face me. “Really, really great.”
“Thank you,” I say, accepting her praise humbly.
She shakes her head and moves her feet so she’s standing in front of me in the middle of my office. “No. I mean it. What you’re doing here?” Katie throws an arm out to indicate the office then points to the rest of the shop. “It’s awesome. Not because of who you’re working with — even though that’s totally kick ass — but because you’re living your dream. Achieving it. Did you ever imagine?” Her eyes widen and she shakes her head again, letting out a breath of disbelief. “I mean, my goodness, B. You’re doing it. Really doing it. You were recognized because of your work. Do you even understand how amazing that is? Unheard of, really. People have to fight and claw their way to hitting their goals and sometimes, unfortunately, it still doesn’t happen for them. I wasn’t here so I don’t know, but I can imagine you did a lot of fighting and a lot of clawing and in the end, it was worth it because someone caught on to your brand of awesome and they knew it was something that the world needed to see, too. You didn’t have to seek it out or go after this business. It happened because you are the best. But it also happened because you worked your tail off to get here. I know it even though I didn’t see it. It’s easy to see that. Because that’s who you are, B. You’re the guy who’s willing to work day and night on your business, and remodel an old house that you saw potential for even though most people probably would have bulldozed it to the ground, but you knew. You. Knew. It was worth something. And you weren’t willing to destroy a place where a couple made their home and started their family and the old man didn’t want to change anything because he didn’t want to hurt his wife more than she was already hurting. I just —”
I interrupt whatever she’s about to say next by kissing her. Sometime between her calling me B — which is a nickname she actually started when I was a junior and she kept calling me Brady instead of Brody because she couldn’t remember so eventually just called me B — and all the praise she was giving me, something inside me snapped and I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. I had to feel her lips on mine and her body pressed against mine.
I should have asked her. Should have gotten permission to kiss her and touch her and treat her like a man who’s greedy and takes without asking. But I didn’t. Because right now, that’s what I am.
I’m greedy and want everything she’s willing to give me and I hope to God she’s willing to give a lot because I’m ready to take a lot. And I swear it has nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t felt anyone’s hands on me aside from my own in almost nine months. And even then, it was… less than satisfying. That’s not a slam against her, she was far from into it, too. We dated for a few months. There was no chemistry. She and I parted ways after that one night we spent together and it was definitely mutual. Nice girl. But now that I’m kissing Katie, I know why there was no chemistry.
Because it would be physically impossible to have what Katie and I have with anyone other than Katie. The second my lips touched hers, my body felt like it came alive for the first time. My nerves have been zapped with electricity. The blood rushing through my veins has been set on fire.
I want to make sure she’s okay with me kissing her. Should make sure she’s okay with me kissing her. But that would mean I’d have to stop and I can’t do that. Just like it was physically impossible to feel this with another person, it would be physically impossible to stop because it’s too good. Too right.
Fuck, I hope I’m not the only one into this. As I slant my head to kiss her deeper, I finally — finally — allow my tongue to graze her lips. When I wrap my arms around her waist to pull her closer, she arches her back and winds her arms around my neck.
Oh, yeah. By the way her lips mold to mine and the tiny moan that escapes her, I’d say she’s into it, too. Big time. And yeah.
She’s willing to give.
Now that our tongues came to play, there’s no hesitation from either of us.
She releases another moan and I answer with a growl.
I want to whisper her name but that would mean removing my mouth from hers.
I want to hear her whisper my name, too. But, same reasoning applies.
Mostly, I just never want to stop kissing her.
We stand in the office of my new shop making out until my phone pings with a text alert. The sound startles us both, but I don’t let her out of my hold.
“Holy shit,” she whispers and I smile. She rarely cusses, I’m learning, and it’s endearing and adorable. But to earn a curse word from her means I’m doing something right.
“Glad you’re feeling what I’m feeling, Katie.”
“This might be bold of me to say, but… have you ever had a kiss that great before?”
“Never,” I reply.
The last thing I see before I see the top of her head because her face is now buried in my chest is the twinkle in her eyes and her sexy (now smudged because of me) red lips break out into a brilliant smile.
Her forehead is pressed to my chest and her arms slip down from around my neck, over my shoulders, and find their place at my waist.
I rest my cheek on the top of her head and feel her sigh.
“Do you realize how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” she says so quietly that if I wasn’t only paying attention to her in this moment I might have missed it.
“Probably as long as I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
I feel her head move side to side and her shoulders move up and down on a heavy sigh before she looks up at me.
“You didn’t know, no one did because I never told anyone, but when I was sixteen years old, I sat in the third row, third seat back in Mr. Pike’s Biology class and you sat in the second row, third seat back, and it was that first day of school. I looked over at you and you looked right at me with a smile that I’ll never forget in my life because it was so real and said, ‘Hey, you’re new, huh? I’m Brody Redding. Welcome to Benton High.’ and in those eleven words I developed a crush that never quit.”
“What?”
She takes a step away and then another and I miss her warmth but want to hear this story so if she needs her space to tell it, I’m willing to give it.
“Yeah. That first day of seventh period Biology? I’d gone an entire day without a single person acknowledging me. Not one. Even the teachers just called out my name for attendance and didn’t even recognize that I was new. I was scared out of my mind that day and when you looked at me during the second to last period of the day and smiled, it made me feel like it would be alright. Like maybe not everyone at Benton High were stuck-up. Starting a new school as a junior was so hard and that first day confirmed all my fears. But then you came along and… do you remember what happened after class?”
“No,” I admit. I don’t even remember that first day. At least not the way she tells it. I do remember seeing her for the first time because I thought she was really damn pretty.
“Johnny and Chad were by the lockers and I was just going to walk straight to my class but you tugged on my backpack, introduced me to your friends, told me about a bonfire kegger that was happening that weekend, and invited me to join if it was my thing.”
“I did?”
“You did.”
“Did you come? I don’t remember this at all,” I grumble. I r
eally wish I would remember.
She nods. “I came, felt a little out of place because I only knew you three and I didn’t really know you, so I didn’t stay.”
“Why didn’t you come find me?”
She shrugs a shoulder and looks away. “Because I was a sixteen-year-old girl who’d been moved to a different town, a new school, and I was too nervous. I showed up, you were surrounded by a bunch of people and I wasn’t going to interrupt that. A few girls noticed me and I couldn’t tell if they were annoyed that I was there or if they were going to be friendly. I panicked and left.”
“Wish you would have found me and stayed,” I tell her, even though I don’t remember that night. Makes me feel bad that I don’t. It was significant to her and to me, it was just another Saturday night.
“That night doesn’t matter, Brody. You were one of the big men on campus and so intimidating, not because you were unapproachable, but because you were this kid who seemed bigger than life. At the same time, you were without a doubt the nicest guy in school. At least to me, you were.” Her words are a bit contradicting but yet, I understand what she means. And, even though I doubt I was the nicest guy in school, it’s still good to hear I wasn’t a complete asshole.
“You do realize that you were intimidating, too, right?”
She shakes her head and a giggle bursts out, followed by a snort, and another giggle. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m not lying. New girl who was so pretty and sweet and shy? No one knew how to talk to you. Locker room talk was everyone wanted to ask you out. When what’s-his-nuts decided he was going to be the first one to go for it, and you accepted, I backed off. Woulda asked you, though.”
She looks confused and amused with me at the same time when she asks, “What’s-his-nuts? Oh! You mean Tate? Cami’s cousin?”
I nod and she gasps. “I haven’t thought of that guy in years.”
“Good,” I grunt.
She giggles again. “Are you jealous of a guy I went out with in high school?”
“No. He was a tool then and probably still is.”
“You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You so are,” she teases.
I move to her and slide a hand around her neck, my fingers tangling in her long mess of blonde hair that I now know smells like apples. I lean my face down and nuzzle my nose into her neck, kissing her just below the ear. “Maybe I am,” I say huskily and she shivers.
“Payback, then.”
Trailing the tip of my nose along her skin, I murmur, “Why’s that?”
“’Cause I was jealous of all those girls you went out with, too.”
“All of ‘em?”
“Yeah.”
My phone pings another text and I want to throw it across the room for constantly interrupting the good parts with Katie. Even though, if I’m being real, any time spent with Katie is good.
“That’s probably the Chinese place. They send text alerts when the food is ready.”
“Oh,” she whispers.
“Yeah. Finish this discussion while we eat by the fire?”
She nods and I kiss her once on the lips, grab her hand, shut off all the lights to the shop and lock up.
I open her door and she slides into the passenger seat of my pickup.
I get behind the wheel.
And we pick up our food which I put in a cooler that I put in the back seat because I don’t want my interior smelling like takeout for a week. Something she teases me about. And that teasing is something I like quite a bit.
I may not remember welcoming her to our little high school or inviting her to a party, but I do remember wishing that she wasn’t Tate’s.
Now she isn’t and it’s my turn.
And I don’t plan on stepping aside for someone else to have their chance this time.
Chapter Nine
Katie
“How was your day of class?” Brody asks over the phone. “I meant to ask you when you first started, did you take a picture holding a sign so your mama could post it everywhere?”
“No, smart ass. I didn’t. But, to answer your other question, it was awesome. As usual.”
“Really disappointed in you that you didn’t take a first day of school picture. You know, in a short little plaid skirt and knee-high socks.”
“Am I going to a porn shoot or massage therapy school?”
“Could be both. Who am I to judge?”
I laugh quietly. “You’re crazy. And if you must know, I wore jeans and a t-shirt. Just like every day. Very non-co-ed of me, huh?”
I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “And yet I bet you no doubt are still the prettiest one there.”
Brody Redding. Who knew he would one day be my own personal romantic? Certainly not me when I had a crush on him when I was only sixteen and never really lost it. I haven’t been pining over him for all these years, but yet, having him back in my life brings it all flooding back.
“Are there a lot of people in your class?” he asks when I don’t know how to respond to his comment about me being pretty. I love that he’s genuinely interested in this part of my life. He seems to truly care and is curious, not just for show.
“Not really, which is nice because then we get more attention, you know? And bonus, I’m not nearly the oldest one there!”
He chuckles. “Well, that’s good.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to feel out of place.”
“Glad you had a good day, Katie. Was thinking about you a lot, and I wanted to call or text but didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Hardly. I didn’t tell you what I was thinking about.”
Chuckling, I decide to shift the focus onto him. “And what about your day? How was it?”
He had a big shipment of cars and trucks come in today and I know he was both excited and anxious for it.
“Good. Stressful. Tiring. We tarped all the ones that we aren’t working on yet and have them out of the way so we can get to work. But having them delivered made it real, you know? It’s a little weird.”
I smile to myself and pour hot water over a tea bag. “Weird how?”
“I’m just me. Never expected this.”
“You should have. Tell me about the vehicles. Are they cool?”
“Not yet, but they will be,” he says confidently, making me laugh.
“Oh my gosh, you’re so full of yourself.”
I wish I was with him right now because I can picture his grin when he replies, “Confident. Not full of myself, I’m just confident. That’s different, right?”
“Right,” I murmur, sipping on my hot tea.
“You like your teachers? Or professors, whatever they’re called?”
“I did at first, now I kind of hate them,” I joke. I don’t hate them, but I’m ready to stop seeing them every single day mainly because I’m ready to be done and getting on with the next part.
“Sounds about right. I hated even the teachers that I liked by the time I graduated from tech school.” I hear a door closing in the background and then a horn honk like he’s just unlocked a vehicle. “So what are you doing now?” he asks, a car door shutting and engine starting up in the background.
“Just looking through all the paperwork from the salon. I have so many thoughts rolling through my head right now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
“Any of those thoughts center around me or what we’re going to have for dinner? I’m starving but don’t have the energy to cook. Should I pick up some burgers or something?”
“I take it we’re having dinner together?”
“Of course we are.”
I grin, settling into the couch, feeling the warmth of his asking me to share dinner with him but not really asking me wash over me. “You really have no idea how to ask someone on a date, do you?”
His answering chuckle tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about, but also that he
likely doesn’t care. “Who said anything about a date? I just wondered if you were hungry and asked if you wanted to have burgers tonight.”
“Oh, well in that case, sure.”
“So… burgers? That sound good to you or want me to pick up something else?” he asks.
I bite my bottom lip to stop from laughing. “What kind of person do you take me for? I would never say no to burgers.”
“Good answer. Anything you won’t eat on ‘em?”
“Nope. Surprise me.”
“You got it.”
Twenty minutes later, Brody and I are sitting in my living room with takeout containers from a local burger joint that’s easily the best burger place in the entire state of Tennessee. When he arrived, he laid out two Styrofoam containers filled with burgers and fries and another with onion rings. He told me to choose which one I wanted and he would eat the other.
“Whose vehicles do you have now?”
“What do you mean?”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. Who’s going to be driving it around in a video after you’re done with it? Or aren’t you allowed to say?”
“Each one is different.”
“How so?”
“So basically, I signed a contract with the production company that I’m guaranteed the work. There’s more to it, obviously, but that’s the gist of it.” He takes a huge bite of his mushroom and Swiss burger, chews, swallows, and washes it down with some Coke. “Sorry about that, like I said, I’m starving.”
“It’s fine,” I say, taking a bite of my own burger. It’s a BBQ bacon burger and so good I think I could eat two. “No need to apologize to me about eating.”
The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Right. Anyway, each artist has their own lawyers and requirements, which means sometimes I need to sign off on other contracts.” He shrugs, taking another bite.
“And some of the artists make you sign an NDA, I assume?”
He swallows then leans back, his arm stretched across the basic tan couch that’s surprisingly comfortable. I took a seat to the side of him in the matching oversized chair.
Without You: A Friends-to-Lovers Small Town Romance Page 10