There's Warmth: A Friends to Lovers Romance (Where There's Smoak Book 1)
Page 4
“Uhh, I’m gonna get this,” he says to me awkwardly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing it to me.
“Umm, yeah. Of course. Go. Go.” I reply, pushing away some of my curls that have fallen into my face.
He gives me a slight smile before turning into the living room.
“Hello?” I hear him answer the phone as he leaves the room.
Holy shit! Where did that come from? I put one hand on my hip and the other on the countertop to brace myself and looked around the room, trying to process what almost happened. I mean, he’s always joked and flirted with me, but that was the first time it ever felt like there was sexual tension radiating from him as well. As if these feelings I’ve been harboring for him all this time, aren’t one-sided. Does he like me too?
I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop but I can’t help but overhear his conversation in the next room.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so I stayed home and slept.” I hear him say. He’s talking to his flavor of the week. And he’s lying to her. This is typical Conner and exactly why I have kept my guard up all these years. I’m so stupid! What the hell was I thinking? I see his dick once and suddenly I’m willing to drop my guard and my panties for him? No. I can’t do this. I need to stay strong. Act like it didn’t happen. My heart is beating so fast. I need something to do to occupy my attention right now. I step to the fridge and pull out a pack of bacon and start frying.
****
Conner
“Oh, Conner! Thank God you’re alright! I was so worried about you!” Rachel’s voice boomed through the phone.
Ah, shit! I completely forgot to call her. I rub my hand against my forehead. I really don’t feel like listening to her dramatic overreaction right now. She rambles on a bit and I am only partly listening. I am too distracted trying to figure out what the hell just happened in the kitchen. Did we just have a moment? Was I about to kiss her? Was she about to let me kiss her?
“Conner? Are you there?”
Rachel’s voice on the other end of my phone draws me away from my thoughts. “What? Umm, yeah, sorry. I’m here.”
“So are you gonna answer me?” she asks, sounding annoyed.
“Sorry, what did you ask me?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Ugh! What the hell happened to you last night?”
“Oh, umm...I wasn’t feeling well so I stayed home and slept and then we got a call early this morning and I’m just now waking up.”
“Oh. I hope you’re not getting sick. You should come let me check you out. I am a nurse yanno? Do you just want to stay in tonight? I can come over and we can watch a movie or something?”
Her overbearing nature is shining through again and it’s become less overbearing and more plain annoying as of late. “Yeah, uh, maybe. Let me get back to you. I’m about to leave Brooke’s so..”
“You’re at Brooke’s?” She cut me off. She sounds pissed.
“Yeah, I stayed here last night. I slept on the couch.” I clarify. “There was an accident during the fire call and I just wanted to make sure she was good.”
“Uh-huh,” was all she said. Yeah, she’s definitely pissed.
“Look, I'll call you later, okay?” I actually have no intention of calling back. Ever. I’m just desperate to get off the phone with her. We went on a few dates and she’s acting like we’ve been together for years. Or like she has a say in who I spend time with. Not how this works, Rachel.
We hang up and I know she’s mad, but right now I don’t care. I have other things on my mind. I stand in the living room for a minute, rubbing the back of my neck. What do I do now? I don’t have feelings like that for Brooke. Do I? No. I don’t. I can’t. It’s Brooke. Maybe it was just in my head. Maybe it wasn’t really a moment. I’m pretty sure I would know by now if she had feelings for me.
My thoughts are interrupted by a delicious smell coming from the next room. I walk back out to the kitchen timidly with my hands in my pockets and find Brooke working at the stove.
“Hey. Everything alright?” she asks, barely looking at me. Not the reaction I was expecting. Was it all in my head? No, there was a moment there. I’m sure of it. I need to clear the air with her.
“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” I say calmly. “Listen, Brooke…”
“You want a BLT?” she asks casually, cutting me off.
What? She catches me off guard again with how nonchalant she is acting right now. Maybe it was in my head. She’s acting as if nothing happened. Maybe there really isn’t anything to talk about.
“Sure.” I shrug and sit down at the table. I watch her finish cooking and she brings two sandwiches over to the table, setting one down in front of me. We sit together eating and hardly saying a word, but before long she breaks the silence.
“So Bobby texted me. He’s bummed about missing the call last night. Asked if we were going to go to the firehouse tonight to play cards. You in? Or are you not up to getting your ass kicked tonight?”
That’s my girl. As uncomfortable as the last few minutes have been here, I feel relieved knowing things are alright between us. No awkwardness to worry about at all. I don’t know why I was so concerned. Things will never change between us. I can always count on her.
****
Brooke
I get to the firehouse around three. Joe wanted us to wash the trucks down today so I packed mesh running shorts and a bikini to change into. Most of the guys are already here and have started washing.
Andy walks up and meets me at the front door of the firehouse. “Hey. How’s it going, Brooke? How ya feeling?” he asks, holding the door open for me. I offer him a slight smile and tell him I’m good.
“I really am sorry about last night. I didn’t realize that one beam wasn’t stable,” he explains.
“No, it’s really okay, Andy. Honest mistake. And I’m fine.”
“I’m glad.” He smiles and lets the door close behind us as we head inside.
I make my way to the locker room and start to change my clothes. I slip off my jeans and t-shirt and put on my bikini. I pull my shorts up and take a quick glance in the mirror. My hair is getting so long. It almost touches my waist and would probably go past that if it wasn’t for the curls. I need to get it cut. I think to myself as I play with it. Shaking it around in different directions, I try to get it to lay nicely, but as per usual it is a crazy untamable mess of curls.
“Oh, well. I tried.” I say to myself in the mirror as I give up on my unruly hair. I turn and head back outside. It’s a perfect day for washing the trucks. It is so hot outside but still has a light breeze that keeps it from being too hot. Andy, Bobby, and Gabe are already surrounding the engine in their multicolored swim trunks. Andy is shirtless but Bobby and Gabe are older and not in as good of shape. They are probably self-conscious and keep their shirts on. I join them and find a sponge in one of the buckets.
“Bout time you help out Brooke,” Gabe teases, winking at me.
“Well, I was kind of hoping you guys would be done with this by the time I got here so I could just participate in the ass-kicking that’s going to go down in cards tonight.” I jab back with a smirk.
“Looks like Smoak had the same idea as you,” Bobby says, pointing his chin at Conner’s truck as it whips into the lot. Conner jumps out and struts over to the rest of us. He’s wearing navy blue swim trunks, sunglasses, and no shirt. His hair is spiked up like it usually is. I practically drool on myself as I watch him move toward us. His body, looking like it was carved by gods, is almost fully exposed. And now that I’ve seen what is under those trunks I can complete the picture in my mind. Get a grip, Brooke! Damn it, what is wrong with you? I force myself to look away and put my energy into cleaning the engine. This is going to be the cleanest this truck has ever been. I start scrubbing fiercely at the engine.
“You can do my truck when you’re done there, Cinderella,” Conner says smiling brightly, as he walks up behind me.
“Pssh.” I raise an eyebrow at him
, “Get one of your flavors of the week to wash your truck.” Shit. The comment came out before I could filter it. I know he is just kidding but I am still a little salty about earlier today. I hope he doesn’t read into it.
“Or” he replies slyly, “We could make a bet?”
“I’m listening,” I reply, grateful he didn’t read into my last comment.
“It’s card night,” he shrugs, “loser washes the winner’s vehicle.”
“Okay, I accept your bet.”
“....naked,” he adds with a smirk, and my breathing hitches as I gasp.
“What is wrong with you?” I laugh back at him, while I entertain myself with the thought of Conner Smoak washing my car completely naked, body soaked in suds and water...Oh my God, Brooke! Stop!!
“What do you mean? You’re practically halfway there now.” He gestures to my outfit. I catch his eyes following the curves of my body and I suddenly feel self-conscious. I feel my face flush with heat. He shoots me a sexy grin then points a hose at me and squirts it before disappearing around the truck.
“Ahh” I squeal at the cold splashing against my exposed skin.
I needed that but… was he just checking me out?
We finally finish about two hours later. I change back into jeans and a tank top and head upstairs where the rest of the guys are already sitting around a table shuffling up the cards. The upstairs room is set up a little like a bachelor pad. It has a pool table, a television, two couches, and a kitchenette. We often spend most of our days here waiting for a call to come in. Usually playing cards. The guys’ favorite game is Euchre. It took me years before I finally caught on to the game and now I’m just as addicted to it as they are.
“Okay, who’s playing?” Bobby asks looking around the room.
“I’m in,” I say, flashing my hand in the hair and shooting a challenging look directly at Conner.
“Me too,” he says, smirking back at me.
Andy stands up, “I’m out. Not in the mood to play cards tonight.” He glares at Conner and walks over to the couch and turns on the t.v.
“You need a partner, pretty lady?” Gabe asks, looking at me.
“Only if it's you, Gabe.” I smile.
“Looks like it’s me and you then, Smoak,” Bobby says to Conner.
“Let’s do it,” he replies confidently.
Gabe and I are on fire tonight. In the first game, we beat them eleven to four. The second game, we Euched them twice.
“C’mon! Best out of five?” Bobby pleads.
“Nah, I’m good. Besides, Conner doesn’t have time. He’s got a car to wash.” I smile and wink at him.
“Yeah, I hear ya,” Conner replies, shaking his head in defeat.
“Well, let’s at least go grab some beers then.” Bobby insists.
“Good idea. You two could use a beer after that ass-kicking.” I smile and pat them both on the shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll buy the first round.”
Five
Brooke
The four of us make our way to Micky’s, a little dive bar and favorite hang out for most of the locals in our small town. Micky was a firefighter with our company until about twenty years ago when he died trying to save a woman during a house fire. She got out. He didn’t. He’s now seen as a hero around our town. The woman he saved is Marcy Coleman. After Micky died, Marcy opened the bar in his honor and the firefighters and local police along with many others in town have been coming here ever since.
By the time we reach the parking lot, I can already hear the music blaring from inside. A few smokers linger outside the door, huddled in a group. Bobby is the first to reach the heavy wood door and he opens it up wide for Conner, Gabe, and me. We step inside and the air is thick with the smell of musky, blue-collar men and beer. The place is packed with people. The stools running along the bar are full, people lined up in every seat, and most turn to look at us as we walk in. Some wave a hat, others wave a hand. I smile back at the familiar faces. There are tables scattered around the room and a place upfront in the corner where a band would be if one were playing tonight.
“Over here,” Conner says, waving us in the direction of one of the few empty tables left. They all take their seats around the circle table near the front.
“Save me a seat guys,” I yell to them as I make my way to the bar. I promised them the first round. I return minutes later, a pitcher of beer in each hand. For about an hour, we sit and talk together. Gabe is in the middle of telling us about his daughter getting accepted into college when I spot a busty brunette with large brown eyes moving toward us. She’s wearing a tight little red mini skirt, a low-cut white top that shows off everything she has to offer, and heels that have to be at least two inches high. I find myself wondering for a moment how she even walks in those things and think back to my large collection of sneakers sitting in my closet at home. Do I even own a pair of heels?
She walks up behind Conner and places a hand on his shoulder turning him in her direction.
“I thought you were going to call me back?” she asks, sounding annoyed.
Ah. This must be his flavor of the week. That is the type of girl Conner gets with. I can never be that type of girl. An overwhelming feeling of sadness washes over me. I am a complete idiot for even thinking I could compete with that.
Conner looks around at the table, clearly stunned to see her here. Everyone else is staring back at him intently as if they’re waiting on his answer too. Everyone except Gabe, who is looking directly at me, as though he’s watching my reaction.
I take a swig of my beer and get up from the table taking my drink with me. I’m not going to sit here and watch this. It’s torture enough being close to him all the time and not being able to have him. I don’t need the women who get to be with him rubbed in my face.
I find an empty stool at the end of the bar and have a seat. I stare into my beer, take a sip, and repeat. I have got to stop doing this to myself. It’s like he has this hold on me. This connection I just can’t seem to break. I desperately want to stop loving him, stop thinking about him, stop dreaming about him, but I can’t. Maybe I need a distraction?
“Hey, honey. How are you doing?”
I look up and Marcy is standing in front of me behind the bar with a welcoming smile on her face. Her red hair is all tied up in a messy bun.
“Hey, Marcy. I’m good. How ‘bout you?”
“Oh, you know. Just busy keeping up with this place.” She gestures to the room with her hands. “Your pal over there looks like he could use some backup.” She points in Conner’s direction with her chin. I turn to see the brunette screaming at him.
“Nah, he’s good. He can clean up his own messes.” I respond with a small smile.
“You need a refill?”
I glance into my glass. “Not yet. Thanks though.”
She nods and walks down to the other end of the bar. I sit and continue sipping my drink. I glance over my shoulder and see Conner sitting back at the table with the rest of the guys, laughing and talking. I look around for the girl and spot her at the other end of the bar, looking upset while her small group of friends soothes and dotes on her. He must’ve just told her that she’s reached her expiration date. Another one bites the dust. Is that what you want, Brooke? You want to end up like that girl? You need to get your shit together and stop with Conner! I reprimand myself.
Just as I finish the last gulp of my beer, a familiar face walks up to the bar and stands next to me.
“Buy you another, Brooke?”
“Thanks, Mitch.” I smile at him. He smiles too and brushes back his short sandy blonde hair from his face with his hand.
Mitch is a local that I graduated with. I had a big crush on him in high school. We even dated a bit at the end of our sophomore year into the summer. I lost my virginity to him, but he was a star athlete and told me he didn’t have time for a girlfriend. It broke my heart back then, but that was years ago and we were just kids. I wouldn’t hold it against him now. He’s a b
it like Conner in regards to his reputation around here. He isn’t exactly known for his fidelity. I think he’s been married and divorced twice already. I shake my head at the thought as he hands me a beer.
Maybe he’s the distraction that I need. He’s not a bad-looking guy by any means. Decent build, nice smile. It’s not like I have to marry him. Besides, he might be exactly what I need to take my mind off of Conner. I turn on my stool to face him and flash a big smile.
“Thanks again,” I tell him, raising my glass and tap it to his.
“My pleasure.” He smiles.
We make small talk for a bit as he tries his best to be funny and charming. Though I can see right through his act, I pretend that it’s working. At this point, pretending to be happy is better than being miserable about someone I can’t have. He buys me another beer, plus two shots that we take together and I find it’s getting easier to pretend to be happy with him.
An unfamiliar song plays from the speakers and Mitch’s face lights up. Clearly, he knows it. Holding out his hand to mine he says, “C’mon. Let’s dance.”
I usually avoid dancing at all costs, but the alcohol must be working its magic because I take his hand and let him lead me from the bar. The song is fast-paced and I begin to feel self-conscious once we hit the dance floor. He offers me a reassuring smile, raises his hand in the air, and spins me so that my back is to him.
He holds my hips and pulls me close against him. His cologne smells good. Like an old spice scent. With his hands he guides my hips, helping me move with the beat of the music. He pulls my body into him and I can feel a slight bulge through his jeans against my ass. He takes one of my hands and wraps it around his neck as he continues guiding our rhythm with his other hand. I know this won’t last. I know he’s no good for me, but right now I don’t care. He’s not Conner. There are no complicated emotions attached to this dance. No hidden feelings. It’s just fun. I haven’t felt this relaxed in forever. Being here with Mitch is just..easy.