The last couple of weeks have been crazy for everyone in this house. Their lives were flipped upside down to accommodate me and my mom, and I’m sure they’re eager to get back to normal. The least I can do is help them get there.
“Oh, Brook,” she whispers, touching her hand to my cheek. “Honey, there’s no rush. Bella doesn’t care where she plays, the only thing she wants is someone to play with her.”
I lift my chin and think about the little girl who took my hand at the service.
It’s okay, Brooklyn, your mommy is an angel now.
Sadly, I haven’t made time to get to know Bella, but now maybe that will change some. I can clean out this room and fill it with all her toys. I can play dress-up with her, just like my mom used to play with me.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Lauren questions, cocking her head to the side.
“Just thinking.”
“Why don’t you leave your mom’s stuff for another day?” she suggests. “Sleep on it and if you still want to clear out the room, I’ll help you, but there is no rush.”
I believe that, especially since they still have all my dad’s stuff. I think the Montgomery’s might actually have a hoarding problem.
Lauren closes the distance between us and brings me into her arms, squeezing me slightly. When we pull apart, I stare at her, noting the tears in her eyes.
“That hug was more for me than it was for you.”
Aside from being a bunch of hoarders, they’re all really affectionate in times of despair. I think I’ve received more hugs in the last two days than I have my entire life and that’s saying a lot because my mom was big on hugs too.
God, I’d give anything to feel her arms lock around me one more time.
Anything.
A knock sounds, causing us both to turn to the door. Eric’s eyes zero in on me for a moment, and I swear all the breath leaves my lungs as I recall the way he pried me from my mom’s body and carried me up the stairs to his room. With a gentleness I didn’t know anyone could possess, he laid me down and crawled into the bed with me. He held me as I cried, kissed my tears away, and when I woke the next morning, he did it all over again. He would probably still be holding me if I didn’t put an end to it. Still kissing my tears away and assuring me I’m the strongest girl he’s ever known.
A pretty little hurricane.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, clearing his throat as he tears his eyes away from me and focuses on his mom. “Grandma is asking for you. She can’t seem to find the espresso machine.”
Lauren releases her hold on me, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips as she rolls her eyes.
“That’s because we don’t have one,” she mutters. “I’ve been serving them instant espresso for years.”
“Savage,” Eric replies with a wink. “You want me to relay that message?”
Narrowing her eyes, she points a finger at him.
“I’ll kill you,” she hisses, and he chuckles. Turning back to me, she tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m going to go deal with them before seventeen years of tricking them into thinking I’m some kind of barista goes down the tubes. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
I nod and watch as she brushes past her son, pausing to warn him to keep his mouth shut about the espresso secret one last time before she disappears. Once we’re alone, Eric shoves his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. He’s still wearing the fitted dress shirt from earlier, only the sleeves are rolled up and the top three buttons are undone. The tie his uncle Anthony forced him to wear is gone too.
He’s too handsome for his own good, and he doesn’t even know it.
Images of the other night flood my head and I recall the way he kissed me on the beach. The feel of his lips on mine, the taste of his tongue, and the way my whole body came alive under his touch. It was the best night of my life, until we came home, and it became the worst.
“No one wants espresso,” he says.
His eyes find mine as he pushes off the doorjamb, and my throat suddenly gets tight as he starts for me. I try to recall why I’ve been avoiding him for the last twenty-four hours, but I draw a blank.
“In fact, grandpa fell asleep on the couch with an eggplant parm hero in his lap and grandma is waxing the floors,” he continues.
My eyebrows pull together in confusion.
“So, you lied. Why?”
“Because I wanted to be alone with you,” he says softly. He takes another step closer and I force myself to take one back. Aside from wanting my mother back, the only other thing I want is him, but having him means losing him and I can’t lose another person.
Frowning, Eric goes still in front of me.
“You locked your door last night.”
Hating the sight of the disappointment in his eyes, I look away and question my decision to lock that door last night. It felt like a means of survival. I was struggling with my anxiety knowing I’d be burying my mom today and all I wanted was him. I wanted him to hold me and tell me he believed there was beauty in every storm, even the most tragic ones. I knew if I left that door unlocked, he would undoubtedly do all those things. He’d slide into his bed with me and as he comforted me, he unintentionally skirts past the gaping holes of my heart to find a small corner he could claim for himself. I wouldn’t fight it either. I’d give him what’s left of me, all the broken pieces, and pray he’d take good care of them.
And he would. For a short while, Eric would go out of his way to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world. He’d mend my broken heart and make me fall head over heels in love with him.
But then he’ll leave.
They all do.
Everyone I love.
My gaze wanders to the empty bed.
Proof.
“Brook. C’mon, look at me. If you want to be alone, that’s cool. I respect that. You’re grieving and need space, I get it, but tell me if I did something wrong.” He pauses, muttering a curse. “That’s a lie, I don’t get it. I’ll never get it. But I want to help.”
I turn my head and our eyes lock as he roughly drags his fingers through his hair. Looking conflicted, he cups the back of his neck before taking another step closer to me. This time, I don’t retreat.
“We don’t have to talk about that night if you don’t want to,” he continues. “Just tell me you don’t regret it.”
I should regret it. I should be kicking myself for going to that party with him because all those hours I spent kissing him, I could’ve spent with my mom, but I don’t. That’s gotta make me the world’s worst daughter.
“I don’t regret it,” I whisper.
As soon as the words leave my lips, he releases his hold on his neck and breathes a sigh of relief. “But it can’t happen again,” I say, hoarsely.
“If you’re worried about my dad, I took care of it.”
Riggs should probably be a factor in this decision—Lauren, too. I mean, I’m sure they didn’t factor me and Eric becoming a thing when they agreed to take me in. However, they have nothing to do with it.
“I can’t be reckless with my heart, Eric,” I clarify. “I can’t get close to you.”
“Sure you can,” he says, taking another step toward me. Any closer and I’ll be able to feel his soft breath on my face. I lift my hand and press it against his chest, an attempt to push him away and put distance between us, but his reflexes are quick and he closes his hand around my wrist, holding my hand to his chest. I can feel his racing heart beneath my fingertips.
“Talk to me,” he murmurs. “Tell me what’s going on in your head so I can make sense of it.”
He laces our fingers together and brushes his lips against my knuckles. It’s distracting and everything I thought I was sure of suddenly becomes a blur.
“You’re going to bootcamp,” I blurt.
His eyes narrow and his lips pause over my knuckles.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He says it so nonchalantly that it makes me qu
estion myself. I stare at him for a beat and start to wonder if I’m overreacting. If the fear I have isn’t valid. He hasn’t even told his parents yet. Maybe he’s not one hundred percent committed to enlisting. If that’s the case, does that change anything? Am I still willing to put my heart at risk of another heartbreak?
Suddenly my mind wanders back to the night at the pizzeria, and I recall the conviction in his eyes as he shared his five-year plan with me for the first time. Then I think back to the night in his bedroom and the story about the flag. There’s no way I misread the desire in his eyes. The need to serve.
“Brook, that’s like four months from now,” he continues.
“You make it sound like that’s a long time,” I rasp. “Do you know what can happen in four months?”
He narrows his eyes.
“Is that a trick question?”
“Eric, let me ask you something, okay? If I didn’t lock that door last night, what would’ve happened?”
“I would’ve laid in bed with you and held you.”
“And then? Would you have done it again tonight?”
“Brook, I’d do it every night if you let me.”
“You can’t say things like that,” I argue, pulling my hand away from his. “We’re not a couple, Eric. I’m…” My voice trails. I don’t even know how to describe what I am, let alone what we are. On paper, I’m a girl his parents took in because they felt obligated, but in my heart, that doesn’t feel true. Lauren and Riggs have given me too much love and compassion for me to say those cold words.
“We can be.”
My gaze snaps back to him and I watch as he cups the back of his neck roughly. His eyes meet mine and his hand falls back to his side.
“What?” I whisper.
He blows out a ragged breath, but his eyes never leave mine.
“A couple, we can be a couple.” He pauses, seeming to give his response more thought. “I basically claimed you to my old man, anyway. It makes sense.”
“You what?”
“Long story.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, taking my hands. He pulls me closer to him and smiles down at me. “Be my girlfriend, Brooklyn Nicholson, let me hold you and kiss you every night.”
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
He can’t be serious.
“Shit,” he hisses, the smile falling from his face. “I probably shouldn’t have said that today, huh? You’re grieving and I’m…”
I cut him off.
“I can’t be your girlfriend, Eric.”
“Right, yeah …bad idea,” he sputters, releasing my hands. His cheeks flame and he roughly scratches the side of his jaw before slicing his eyes back to mine. “Why is it a bad idea?”
It’s a bad idea because you’re going to break my heart.
“Well, for one, I don’t think your parents took me in to be your live-in girlfriend, but mainly because…”
Just tell him.
“I like you,” I blurt. “I like you so much that the last conversation I had with my mom was about you. I didn’t check on her when we got home that night, Eric. I didn’t ask how she felt or if she needed anything. I climbed into bed with her and told her all about the boy who kissed me and how spectacular it made me feel.”
I think about that for a second, and I wait for the regret to seep into my veins. For it to suffocate me. It doesn’t happen. I’ll never bring home a boy to meet my mom, but we’ll always have Eric. She’ll never meet any of my boyfriends or my future husband.
“I can’t be your girlfriend, Eric, because I’ll fall for you. I’ll fall so hard and so fast I won’t know what’s hit me.”
My mom’s voice sounds in my ear, reminding me not to be afraid of love. Maybe if she were here to hold my hand I wouldn’t be choking on my fears.
“And then I will lose you, just like I lost her. Just like I lost my dad. You’ll go away to bootcamp and then you’ll go to wherever you’re stationed, maybe you’ll get deployed, and I’ll be left here all alone. No one will pick up the pieces because your parents don’t even know you’re enlisting and when they find out I knew, I’m sure they won’t be too happy with me and that’s providing I’m still here. This is only a temporary situation, the papers state they’re my legal guardians until I’m eighteen and—”
He covers my mouth with the palm of his hand and those blue eyes I love so much darken fiercely.
“Shut up,” he demands.
He lowers his hand, and I smack my lips together. I’ve never seen him look so angry before.
“I’m going to cut you some slack because you just lost your mom and you’re probably not thinking clearly. But let me make some things clear for you, Brook. You are not alone, and you never will be so long as I’m on this earth. You don’t want to be my girlfriend, fine, but it’s going to get real awkward around here when you try to bring another guy home because this is your home now. My family is your family, and that’s not a temporary arrangement. You are stuck with us. You’re stuck with me for life. So we can spend the next four months ignoring this thing between us. You can avoid me until I leave for basic training, and maybe if you’re feeling generous, you’ll write me once in a while. We’ll see each other when I’m on leave and that will be it. Or, we can spend the next four months figuring this thing out so that when I’m done with basic, you’re the first person I run to. The person who gives me my first hug. My first fucking kiss after fourteen weeks of hell.”
Don’t be afraid of love.
If only it were that easy.
If only my mom were here to hold my hand.
Eighteen
Eric
I really fucked things up this time.
I gave her two options, ignore what we feel for one another and avoid me for the next few months, or be my girlfriend, and together we’ll figure out how to make it work. She chose option one, and I’ve kept my distance ever since. I suppose I laid too much on her. I mean, really, my timing was total shit. We had just buried her mother that morning and by nightfall, I was asking her to commit to a future with me, one that centered on the military and without ever taking her on an actual date.
Who does that?
This idiot, that’s who.
In my defense, life is moving at warp speed—something I didn’t take into consideration until I was standing in front of Brooklyn and she reminded me I’d be leaving for bootcamp in a mere four months. What once seemed like an eternity, suddenly felt like minutes and I realized she was right. The clock was ticking for us. I didn’t have all the time in the world to make her mine. I didn’t have years to build what my parents did. I had one hundred and twenty days.
One hundred and thirteen now and things aren’t looking too promising for your boy, Eric.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Danny says, snatching a fry from my lunch tray.
He bathes the damn thing in ketchup before popping it into his mouth and then reaches for another. Seeing as I have no appetite, I push my tray toward him. Normally, I am not one to part with food and Danny knows this, that’s probably why he’s looking at me as if I’m growing a third eye.
“Oh, it’s worse than I thought if you’re not eating,” he says. “Is this about the road test later or are you still pining over Brook?”
I roll my eyes.
“I couldn’t give a fuck less about the road test.”
I frown. That’s really ignorant of me, considering how I need to present all the proper documents to my recruiter, including a state issued I.D. I suppose a permit will suffice, but that’s something I should confirm with my recruiter, especially since the odds of me passing are slim to none. My head just isn’t in it.
He shoves another fry in his mouth.
“Ahh, so it is about Brooklyn. I saw her this morning entering the guidance counselor’s office with your mom, I’m assuming today is her first day?”
I nod.
Yeah, today is her first day and beca
use I fucked things up a week ago by opening my big mouth and pushing her too hard, I didn’t even get to wish her luck or give her a copy of my schedule like I had planned—you know in case she needed a friend.
There’s that ridiculous word again.
“Are you going to tell me what happened, or should I make my way to the lunch line and ask her myself?”
Lifting my chin, I follow his line of sight and find Brook standing amongst a group of strangers, trying to balance her books with one hand and an empty lunch tray in the other. I’ve seen her a handful of times over the last couple of days, crazy since we live together, but the girl takes avoidance to a whole new level. I thought about calling her out on it like she did to me, but I decided against it. You don’t hand someone a shovel when you’ve already dug your own grave and tell them to keep digging.
I lift my hand and rub the ache in the center of my chest—the one I get every time I look at her lately. The nagging fucking pain I feel whenever I think I failed her.
Without giving it much thought, I rise from the bench and grab my bag. Throwing it over my shoulder, I leave Danny at the table with my fries and make my way to Brooklyn. I reach her just as it’s her turn to order and slide next to her on the line. The guy behind her starts to object, but I glare at him—similar to the look of death my dad delivers whenever I fuck shit up.
Not today, Satan, not today.
That does the trick, and bozo smacks his lips shut.
Good call.
I turn my attention back to Brooklyn and inch closer.
“The Jamaican beef patty is decent, and the turkey burger isn’t bad either, plus it comes with fries,” I whisper against her ear. Startled, she jumps slightly and, in an instant, those sad eyes of hers are pinned to me. I swallow hard and attempt a smile—a hard feat when all you want to do is drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness. She doesn’t frown, so that’s a plus. She doesn’t turn and ignore me either, another win. She simply stares at me expressionless and I take that and run with it.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
“Truce?” My voice sounds desperate. “I promise not to make any crazy demands of you or ask you to marry me.”
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