Brooks

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Still.”

  She sighed and lay back.

  “I can’t remember the last time I actually did something like this. At least not with another person.” I turned my head and we looked at each other.

  “Me neither. What losers.” I winked at her.

  “Shut up.”

  There was a second of silence and then I said the words I’d been holding in all day.

  “Do you want to come have dinner at my house? I’d like to show you something.” Her mouth opened in shock. Nice.

  “Dinner at your house with your parents and everything?” I nodded.

  “I mean, just me, my parents and my little brother, Greyson. Or he might not be there because he’s with friends. Not the whole family. I wouldn’t put you through that, trust me.” My brothers would make my life miserable if I brought Remi to Sunday dinner with everyone. She would never talk to me again if I subjected her to that torture.

  “Oh, um, I guess? My curiosity is overpowering my fear of eating dinner with your parents.”

  Remi

  Normally I would have said “hell no” but I was really interested to know what he had to show me. And the sun was making me stupid. Or something. Maybe it was Pearl. She was so cute it should be illegal.

  And watching Brooks with her? Talk about an ovary explosion. I’d never really understood the whole “dudes with kids” thing, but I was definitely getting it now.

  We packed up the still-sleepy Pearl and then went back to the store so Dasen could pick her up. He looked exhausted, but when he saw his sleeping daughter, his face lit up.

  “How was she?” he asked as Brooks carefully took her out of the car seat so they could put it back in Dasen’s car.

  “Perfect as always,” Brooks said, kissing her forehead. I wanted to tell him to stop because I couldn’t take it. Instead I just looked away and pretended to be super interested in the pavement of the parking lot.

  “That’s a lie, but thanks for doing this. I owe you one,” Dasen said with a sigh.

  “You don’t owe me anything. Family comes first.” Dasen gripped Brooks’ shoulder and then waved goodbye.

  Just the two of us now.

  “So...” I said, drawing the word out. “I should probably go and shower off all the sunblock and sand and make myself presentable for your parents.” I still couldn’t believe I’d agreed to go.

  “You can, if you want to. We’re very ‘come as you are’ in the Benson house.” Judging by the way he dressed so casually, I figured that was true, but still. I wanted to make a good impression if I could.

  “Still,” I said and he nodded, swinging his keys around one finger.

  “So, how about I pick you up at six? Is that okay? Or you could meet me at the house. That’s fine too.” I didn’t have to ask where it was. I already knew. He knew where I lived too. No hiding in Hope Harbor.

  “Okay,” I said after taking a breath. I could just wait on the porch, then book it when he got there so he wouldn’t have to deal with talking to my parents. Yeah, that was a good plan.

  ****

  As plans almost always do, mine did not go, well, according to plan. I rushed back to my house and headed straight for the shower, then rushed to dry my hair and pick out something to wear. I finally settled on a maxi dress that had straps so I wouldn’t spend the entire night hauling it up.

  “Where are you going?” Mom asked.

  I froze as I was putting on my lipstick.

  “Ummm...” I said, fumbling for an excuse. “Out?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

  “With who?”

  “Whom,” I said, taking one last check in the mirror.

  “What?” she said, following me.

  “Whom. With whom.”

  Mom shook her head and just kept following me.

  “Are you going out with Brooks?” There was no way to lie my way out of this. She knew I had no friends. I really needed to get some ASAP.

  “Maybe.” I sat on the wooden swing and she leaned against the house.

  “Is this getting serious?”

  I sighed.

  “Mom, I’m not dating him. We’re just friends. I know it seems impossible for a girl and a guy to be friends, but that’s what we’re doing. End of story.” I pulled my phone out to check the time. He needed to get here like five minutes ago.

  “Mmmhmmmm,” she said with an annoying smile. Whatever. Brooks pulled in at that moment, and I got up off the swing like my ass was on fire.

  “Bye!” I threw over my shoulder. I leaped into Brooks’ truck before he could even get out.

  “Go, go, go!” I yelled, slamming my hands on the dashboard.

  “What the fuck, Remi?” he said, shifting into Reverse and waving to my mom before he backed up.

  “I just didn’t want you to have to talk to my parents,” I said looking out the back window to see Mom still standing on the porch with a smug smile. I closed my eyes and tried to block it out before I turned back around.

  “I think I can handle your parents, Remington. I mean, I’ve met them before. Not like this, but they don’t scare me.” Oh, sweet, naïve Brooks.

  “My mom would eat you alive,” I said, grinning at him. He raised one dark eyebrow.

  “You don’t mean literally, right?” It took me a second and then he grinned that cute boyish grin.

  “You sicko,” I said, shoving his shoulder. He snickered and headed down the main road in Hope Harbor toward his parents’ house as butterflies started mating and multiplying in my stomach.

  Oh, shit.

  ****

  By the time we got to the house, I was freaking out a little. To distract myself, I looked at Brooks out of the corner of my eye. He had on a nice blue shirt that complimented his eyes and a pair of khakis that had clearly never been worn because they still had the creases from when they’d come from the store.

  He looked good, I had to admit. Really good.

  We pulled in the driveway and his truck joined another and a Toyota Camry. The house was big, white, and old. A little shabby, but there were gardens and flower baskets hanging on the porch, and a lawnmower leaning up against the side of the house. It was a house that people lived in, as opposed to a showplace that you’d put in a magazine.

  I had never been here, but I’d driven by so many times that I felt like I had.

  Brooks came over and opened my door for me, holding his hand out to help me down. It was a long way to the ground for my little legs.

  “Thank you,” I said, fiddling with my dress.

  “Oh, just in case I forget to say it later? You look really beautiful tonight.” I could feel my cheeks flame, so I ducked my head.

  “Thank you,” I repeated, as we walked up the porch to the front door. “You look really good too. I didn’t know you had anything other than jeans.” I pointed to the khakis and he looked down.

  “Oh, yeah. Figured I should spruce up. Mom was thrilled. I’m probably going to have to wear them more often now. I’m blaming you.” He winked at me as he opened the front door and held it for me.

  ****

  Brooks looked so much like his dad, but had his mom’s beautiful eyes. She looked older and little more frail than when I’d seen her last, but she gave me a big hug and told me she was happy to see me.

  “You are all grown up and everything,” she said, brushing a hand through my hair before she let me go. “I love the hair.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “And thank you for inviting me over.” She waved me off and headed back into the kitchen as Brooks and I walked into the cozy and cluttered living room.

  His house was exactly like I thought it would be. Filled with memories and pictures and knick-knacks and love. Chaotic and cozy at the same time.

  “Remi, it’s nice to see you,” Ben Brooks got up from the couch and shook my hand. Not too limp, not too firm. Just right.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I said. Should I call him “sir”? Nah, that was too formal. And too date-like. I
didn’t want to treat this like a date, because it wasn’t.

  At all.

  Not even close.

  Brooks and I sat down in the living room and Ben asked me what I’d been up to. I shared a look with Brooks and then figured I didn’t have anything to lose. I didn’t have to impress them because they were going to find out the truth, or already knew it.

  “Went to college. Couldn’t find a job. Tried to stick it out in New York. Didn’t work out. Came home. You know, same old, same old.” He smiled and chuckled.

  “Isn’t that always the way?”

  I sighed.

  “For some.”

  Lilly came back in, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  “Brooks, can you set the table? Grey’s off with friends, so it’s just the four of us.” I was a little relieved, to be honest, and I was thrilled the rest of the brothers weren’t here. They were definitely a handful when they were younger, and I wasn’t sure how much Benson I could take at one time.

  “I’ll help,” I said, starting to get up, but Brooks motioned for me to stay sitting. Great. Time for awkward chatting with Dad.

  “Brooks has brought home some of your treats and I must say, you are very talented, young lady. I thought I was going to go into a sugar coma.” He smiled and I could feel him assessing me.

  “Thank you. That means a lot.” I smiled back and hoped he didn’t find me wanting. Maybe I should have tried to impress him more. Too late now. He’d already made up his mind about me, perhaps years ago.

  “Must be hard to come back after having so much independence,” he said, leaning against the back of the couch.

  I shrugged. That probably wasn’t a good enough answer.

  “I was lucky my parents welcomed me back with open arms.” Literally.

  He nodded, but his eyes narrowed just a tiny bit. He was definitely seeing beyond the exterior I was putting on. I squirmed a little bit. Brooks came back in and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  He leaned down and held out his arm as if to escort me. There was mischief in his eyes and my heart thumped an extra beat.

  Shit.

  Eight

  Brooks

  I couldn’t stop watching her. The way she held her fork, the way she laughed at my dad’s stupid jokes. The smiles she shared with my mom. It was like she was supposed to be here. Like she fit.

  That realization hit me like an 18 wheeler and I tried to shove it aside and focus on my steak and potatoes and asparagus.

  But it kept pounding in my chest and running through my head. I cared way more about Remi than I was willing to admit, even to myself.

  After slices of coconut cake that Remi praised and Mom refused to take compliments for, I took the dishes to the sink and Mom shoved me back toward Remi.

  “Show her your art,” she whispered. “I’ve got this.” Since that was my plan, I went ahead and walked back into the dining room. Remi was sitting and talking with Dad. I jerked my chin toward the stairs.

  She excused herself and got up. Fuck, I loved the way that dress moved. Like it was designed solely to make her body look incredible and also make me think of how it would look crumpled on the floor.

  “So, I’m very anxious to see what you have to show me,” she said as I led her to the bottom of the stairs. “It better not be your dick.” The last part she whispered.

  “It’s not. It’s this,” I said, motioning to the frames crammed on the wall. Mom never worried about “cluttering.” She displayed every damn thing I’d ever made.

  “I was going to ask who did all the art and I think I have my answer. You?” she asked, pointing to me. I nodded slowly and watched as she moved closer to examine the pieces. All of these were done in charcoal with slashing strokes. I was kinda angry for a while there, but who wasn’t when they were a teenager? None of it was bad, per se. Just... full of angst.

  “And you did everything else that I saw?” I nodded again.

  “Come on.” I stepped around her and led the way up the stairs to my room. I’d cleaned the hell out of it (as much as I could) before she came, but the art corner was still a mess. I figured that was okay.

  “So, yeah. This is my room. And this is my thing,” I said, waving to indicate the canvasses and supplies and sketchpads.

  “May I?” she asked. I agreed and she slowly walked toward the largest of the canvases. I had them stacked by size so the biggest ones were together and then the medium ones, and then the smallest.

  She flipped through them and looked at me with astonishment.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re really fucking talented. Holy shit, Brooks.” She shook her head slowly and went back to flipping and then looked through each and every canvas. I sat down on the edge of my bed and let her. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to explain to her, or break her concentration. She was so absorbed and I kept seeing her smiling, or her brows drawing together in concentration.

  She was so goddamn beautiful. I wanted to paint her like that. Looking at my paintings. I’d never been into photography, but I’d make an exception right now. I wanted to immortalize this moment when the warm sunlight streamed in through the window and lit up her hair.

  So. Beautiful.

  She finally reached the last one and slowly pivoted around to face me.

  “Wow,” she said. “Seriously wow. This kicks the pants off of making good cupcakes. You’re... like really good. It’s kind of freaking me out right now. This shit should be hanging in museums.” I actually felt my face get red from the praise. People had flattered me before, but coming from her it meant so much more.

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice shaking a little.

  “Like, holy shit, Brooks.” She walked over and sat down next to me.

  “Why aren’t you doing this all the time?” I lifted one shoulder.

  “I told you. I didn’t want to make it into a job and ruin it.” She opened her mouth to respond, closed it and looked back at the canvasses.

  “Seems a shame to have a gift like that and not share it. And I don’t mean that you owe it to anyone or the world or whatever. I can tell this makes you happy. That this is what you want. Just sitting here, I can feel it. And if you’re not going to devote your life to the one thing that makes you feel that way, then what’s the point?”

  Well. I didn’t have a good answer for that.

  “It’s complicated.” It was complicated by the store, and my parents and so many other things.

  “Bullshit,” she said, turning to face me fully, her eyes snapping with fire.

  “You’re only making excuses. I know you want to do it. I can feel it, sitting here. Your hands are begging you to go over to those brushes.” I looked down and saw that my hands were twitching a little. I closed them into fists.

  “You don’t know,” I said.

  “Fine. Whatever. But if you saw someone as talented as you not doing what they wanted to do, you’d be pissed too.” She crossed her arms. Shit. She was actually mad.

  “I’m sorry?” I said and she got up and started pacing the room.

  “I want you to do this. At least once a day. I don’t care if you actually make anything. But I want you to set aside time for this.” Was... was she giving me a homework assignment?

  “Uh, okay?” I was too stunned to say anything else. Where did this girl come from?

  “Damn right,” she said, pointing at me. “And I’m going to kiss you now.”

  The fuck? I had no time to react before she crossed the room, grabbed my face and kissed me.

  It hit me like a bolt of lightning and I almost pulled back from shock. But she wouldn’t let me move. It only took another fraction of a second for me to inhale, take in her scent, before my mouth got its act together.

  She slowed down a little and I let myself taste her, feel the velvet of her mouth. It was good. So, so good. She kissed like it was her main mission in life.

  Her tongue teased my lips and I opened up to let her in. Remi liked to be in control
and I was happy to let her. She eased us back until she was in my lap. My hands hiked up her dress so she could straddle me. I was hard as fuck.

  Our tongues went back and forth and I felt like I was going to die from all the sensations. She made this little moaning sound and I nearly fucking lost it.

  I groaned and she pulled back.

  “I’m not fucking you here with your parents downstairs. I’m really loud and I don’t want them to think I’m a hussy.” This girl kept knocking me on my ass.

  Remi

  I didn’t intend to go there and want to fuck him. It just kind of... happened. Whatever. It was the damn art. Part of me was convinced that he brought me up here to seduce me with it because how could I not? His paintings and drawings were incredible. I wasn’t exaggerating. They were so... breathtaking. Like he ripped his heart out of his chest and smeared it everywhere. He didn’t hold back at all. He took the ugly things and the pretty things and put them all out there. It took a special person who wasn’t afraid to do that. I could feel his fearlessness in the very pit of my soul.

  It took everything in me to unglue my mouth from his and sit back.

  His lips were red from me attacking them and he was rocking a, well, rock-hard-on. I was nearly shaking with the desire to tackle him, let him hike up my dress and fuck me senseless, but this wasn’t the time or place.

  How the hell did I get here?

  I was literally saying earlier this evening that this wasn’t a date and now here I was, in his lap and ready to screw his brains out. A girl could change her mind, couldn’t she?

  “Remi?” he asked, his voice rough. It made me want to kiss his mouth again. And taste him.

  Everywhere.

  “I should probably get off you,” I said, forcibly taking my hands off him and running shaky fingers through my hair.

  “Uh,” he said, dazed. Glad I wasn’t the only one. I levered myself off him, and he let go of my hips as I pushed my dress back down. It had been very, very close to revealing the thong I’d had to wear with this dress so I didn’t have a panty line.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, stumbling on wobbly legs. I needed to get my shit together ASAP.

  He looked down at his tented pants.

  “No big,” he said.