Need You Tonight

by Marquita Valentine

  Before she came into my life, I didn’t know what I was missing. I didn’t fucking care because I was so focused on leaving this hellhole.

  “Did she tell you that?” he asks.

  I give him a look. “What do you think?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what’s going on, because you won’t say, and I wish like hell you would. You’ve been like this for months.”

  “Maybe if you weren’t so far up your girlfriend’s ass, then you’d know what was wrong with me.”

  West’s dark eyes flash. “Better watch yourself,” he says softly. “McKenzie has nothing to do with your attitude.”

  “You’re right. She doesn’t.” I run a hand through my hair. “Sorry, man.”

  He slaps my back. “We all say stupid shit. Hell, remember when you called my ass out over McKenzie?”

  “I remember.”

  “Then allow me to return the favor.”

  I cross my arms. “Go on.”

  “Ask her what she wants. Use your words. Use that legendary charm of yours to put her at ease.”

  “I already did that,” I mutter.

  “Then try again.”

  “She doesn’t want to talk to me,” I finally admit.

  “And? Give her some time to cool off, and then try again.”

  “You’re all about the try, aren’t you?”

  He grins. “I’m all about putting a man out of his misery.”

  I nod at the dance floor. “You think Brooklyn will put me out of mine?”

  His grin falls away, a thoughtful look taking over his face. “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

  My mind whirls. How to describe Brooklyn… “She’s fragile and sweet… and kind. A really good listener. Fun to be around.” I don’t have to say that she’s fucking gorgeous and sexy, because he has eyes. And I sure as hell won’t tell him how my very own angel kisses like the devil. Or how perfect she feels in my arms each time I hold her. I glance at West. “So, what’s the verdict?”

  “Honestly, I think she could be the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “You just want me to have a reason to stay in Forrestville.”

  “Dude, if I could get you to stay in North Carolina, I would consider it a win.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I say.

  “About Brooklyn or staying?”

  “Both.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brooklyn

  “Parker Morgan,” Rowan says as she comes walking into my office Wednesday morning. “He’s the one who made you cry.”

  I blink, my gaze going from the computer screen to the pissed-off look on her face. “I…uh, that is.”

  “B, if we’re going to be friends, then you have to be honest with me. I was honest with you about Seth, and I wasn’t even drunk,” she points out.

  She’s right. I can’t expect make to friends, much less keep them, if I don’t try to be a little vulnerable. “It’s not what you think,” I begin, and she sits down the chair across from my desk. “Parker and I had a misunderstanding, is all.”

  “About a clogged toilet?”

  “Ew. No.”

  “You said he was your handyman, so I can only assume that the misunderstanding you had was over fixing something,” she points out.

  “It was over fixing me,” I mumble, looking away.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she says. “You just need to get out more.”

  “No. I don’t.” I can feel the familiar defensive anger building inside of me, so I take a deep breath and look at her, softening my face. “What I mean is that I’m not ready to date. When I went out with you and Piper last Saturday, that’s the first date—girls’ night out or real date, whatever you want to call it—I’ve been on in years.”

  Her blue eyes round. “Seriously?”

  I nod and then make a face. “I sound pathetic, huh?”

  “Not to me. When Seth broke up with me, I didn’t date anyone for long time, just in case he changed his mind.” She laughs, but it’s bitter. “Pathetic, huh?”

  “Not as pathetic as throwing yourself at a guy and he shoots you down, after the two of you kissed,” I blurt and then wince. “TMI?”

  “Give me a minute, because one, I have conflicting feelings of jealousy and anger. Jealous because you got a taste of that boy, and anger that he shot you down.”

  “He gave me the it’s not you, it’s me line.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish. Then he said I deserved better than him because he took advantage of me.” Our conversation replays in my mind, dredging up every bit of the disbelief and shame I’d felt.

  “B, you got it all wrong.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, when a man says that to you, it’s completely because he’s trying not to fall.” She smiles at me, and I’m taken aback at how smug it is. “Did he apologize to you?”

  “Yes, but not until after we fought some more.”

  “Foreplay. Got it.”

  My boss and new friend is insane. It’s the only explanation.

  “I don’t mean for the two of you to sex each other up right this second,” she says with a huff. “When’s the last time you talked to him?”

  “It’s been a while. Although, he texted me last night to let me know that he’d completed all the jobs on my list.”

  “But I didn’t text him back,” I add quickly, not wanting her to think I’m weak. I want Rowan to see me as strong and independent like her.

  “Told you.” She leans forward. “He finished everything on your list, instead of hiring someone else, and then texted you to let you know it’s done, because you wouldn’t have known otherwise? Puh-lease.”

  “I guess what you’re saying makes sense, but why would he want to give his job to someone else?”

  “He and his brother, Cole, used to own The Double Deuce. When they sold it a few months back, they made a killing. It was all in the papers. He doesn’t actually need the job, B.”

  “So you’re saying,” I begin slowly, “that I should give him another chance?”

  Rowan sits up, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m saying that you should make him sweat a few more days, and then give him another chance by putting him in the friend zone.”

  *

  Parker

  I give Brooklyn a week to cool off, but all that time away from her, only serves to remind me of how much I enjoy being with her. Okay, so maybe I gave her a week, because she never answered my text I’d sent her last Tuesday. Then again, I hadn’t required a response.

  “I’m losing my mind,” I mutter, sitting on the back porch and eating breakfast. It’s Saturday and the only thing I have planned is a soccer game with West and some guys from our old team in high school.

  Maybe I should try again. Invite her to do something with other people, not just me. If only to let her know that I’m a man of my word. I promised to help her.

  Picking up my phone, I pull up her number.

  Me: Soccer game today at 4. Would you like to come?

  I nearly drop my phone when she answers.

  Brooklyn: Sounds fun. Where?

  Shit. Do I pick her up or meet her there? Stop overthinking, dumbass.

  Me: At Forrestville Parks and Rec. I’ll come get you at 3:30

  Brooklyn: Thanks, but I’ll meet you there. See you then.

  Well, she hadn’t refused the invitation, even if she refused my offer of a ride. Smiling, I finish eating the rest of my breakfast.

  *

  I’m already warming up by the time Brooklyn arrives. She scans the co-ed group on the pitch, her gaze landing on me. I jog over to her. She’s wearing a purple t-shirt with a GO PLAY logo on the front with a pair of light blue athletic shorts that highlight her long, tan legs. She’s pulled her hair back into a ponytail, giving me and everyone here an unobstructed view of her beautiful face.

  “Glad you came.”

  “Thank
s for asking me.”

  Before I can say more, West joins us. “We’re short a keeper.”

  “Make Chris play the position.”

  “Dude, I like winning.”

  “I’ll play.”

  Both of us turn to look at Brooklyn. “You play soccer?”

  She takes the ball from West and does a combination of moves that leaves me speechless. “The correct term is football.”

  “Hell, yeah.” West high fives her. “There’s an extra pair of gloves by the goal, but they might be a little big.”

  “Thanks.”

  I watch as she jogs to the goal, her perky little ass and lithe legs making me groan. Turning to my best friend, I ask, “Any special reason why you want to torture me?”

  He grins. “It’s Saturday?”

  Flipping him the bird, I take my position near Brooklyn as a defender. “Ready?”

  She nods, going to the center of the goal. “Bring it.”

  “That’s for cheerleading,” I point out.

  Brooklyn taps her chin with her finger. “Yet, you know it.”

  “Oooh burn, Morgan. Now move your ass left,” West shouts.

  I sprint toward the ball, diving between West and another player. We go down, and I roll to one side, before popping to my feet. The ball goes rogue, and the offense gets into position.

  “Heads up, Brooklyn,” I shout, racing her way.

  Number five kicks hard and high, nearly offsides. Brooklyn dives for the ball, her body stretching as she reaches for it. The ball brushes her fingertips but it’s enough to send it out of bounds. She hits the ground with a thud and it’s all I can do not to keep running to her so I can make sure she’s okay.

  “Yeah, baby,” West yells as he celebrates on the field.

  Brooklyn jumps to her feet, slightly limping as she walks back to the center. “You okay?” I ask.

  She nods, white-lipped. “It’s been a while.”

  Taking her at her word, I concentrate on the game. Our team manages to score three times on our opponents. I glance at Brooklyn. Thankfully, her face isn’t tight. Her lips aren’t white anymore either. She looks…happy. Into the game.

  “Stop staring and go with the flow. Be the river,” West sings.

  “Bite my ass,” I sing back.

  “Why the two of you never got married is a mystery,” Chris says as he rolls his eyes.

  “Envy green is so not your color,” I say.

  “Fuck you, dude. Anyway, who’s the goalie?” he asks.

  “Brooklyn Reeves.”

  “I’ve never seen her before. Is she new in town?”

  Suppressing the urge to kick him in the throat with my cleat, I say, “Yeah. She’s renting Miss Violet’s house.” Everyone knows who Miss Violet is around here. Her desserts and sewing are that famous.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Guess you’ve already gotten some of that.” He jerks his head in Brooklyn’s direction once more, just as she’s bending at the waist. Her shorts ride up so high that I can almost see her ass cheeks. “Damn, that’s something to sink your teeth into.”

  I take a step toward Chris. Growing up, I never liked the privileged asshole very much, and I really don’t like him now. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

  “You don’t own this side of town, Morgan,” Chris sneers. “If it hadn’t been for West, you wouldn’t have been on this team. Losers like you belong on the other side of the tracks.”

  Lowering my voice, I grab him by the collar of his shirt, uncaring that Brooklyn is watching us. This is the real me. The guy who broke up bar fights with his brother and didn’t take shit from the men who threatened us or our mother. “Losers like me, huh? Well, let me tell you something about losers from the other side of the tracks. We protect what’s ours and beat the ever-loving shit out of the ones who threaten what’s ours.” I jerk his face around, squeezing his cheeks so tight that he looks like he’s got a mouthful of marshmallows. “You will never touch her. You will never think about her. Because if you do, you’ll answer to me.”

  “You’re fucking insane, just like your brother,” he spits out, but his eyes are wide and he looks as though he’s about to piss his shorts.

  “Yeah, I am. And don’t you forget it.” I shove him away, my earlier good mood ruined. “West, I’m done. Call the game.”

  “Fine with me,” he says. “I’ve got a date with McKenzie anyway.”

  Brooklyn walks over to me as I start unlacing my shoes. “Why did your friend call the game?”

  “He has a date.”

  “Oh.”

  I glance up at her. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkle. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Better than you did.” Tilting her head to one side, she studies me. “Do you always get in fights with your teammates when you play?”

  Chris slinks past us with his tail between his legs. I shoot him an eat-shit-and-die glare.

  “Only when they deserve it,” I say loud enough for him to hear. I chuckle when he breaks out into a run. “Sorry fucker.”

  She sits down beside me and pulls a water bottle out from her bag. “I packed an extra bottled water, if you’d like one.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” I take the water from her, twist off the lid, and drink it down, keeping my eyes on the pitch. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

  “High school.”

  “Too bad we never played you. If the girls on your team were anything like you, then the game would have been amazing.”

  “I don’t think we were in high school at the same time.”

  I jerk my gaze to her. I never asked her how old she was. I’d always assumed she was my age or younger. “You’re not twenty-one?”

  “No. I’m twenty-five.” She looks at the ground. “My birthday was yesterday.”

  “Did you celebrate it?”

  She shrugs. “Not really.”

  “Why?” Growing up, Cole and I never celebrated our birthdays, because it was too much of a reminder of how little we mattered to anyone. But after Kelly was born, we had agreed to make every birthday special for her.

  “You really want to know?”

  I don’t want to know, mostly because I’m afraid of what I’ll learn about her past. “Yes.”

  “I share my birthday with Braden’s death.” She bites on her bottom lip. “Not the exact date…but after Braden died… three weeks later, I turned twenty-three. I didn’t feel like celebrating. Since then, I just stopped. Celebrating, that is. I don’t even put up a Christmas tree anymore, and that was my favorite holiday.”

  *

  Brooklyn

  I peek at Parker. He’s staring at me, his face unreadable as his golden-green eyes search my face.

  “Instead, I go to church for the Christmas service, and then work at the food pantry on Christmas Day. Which is better, because it means that I’m not waiting for presents to show up for me,” I add, not wanting to sound so depressing, because to other people, that’s exactly what it sounds like.

  Although, Soon Lin was the one to suggest I do something. She was the one to remind me that helping others would get my mind off myself.

  “Do you have plans tonight?” he asks.

  “For my birthday?”

  “Uh, sure.” He stands, holding his shoes by the laces.

  I shake my head. “I planned to watch a movie and eat pizza.”

  “Okay. Gotta go.”

  Bewildered, I watch him run to his truck and yank open the door. His tires burn tracks in the parking lot as he races out of there.

  “Where did Parker go?” his friend asks.

  “No idea. I’m Brooklyn Reeves, by the way.”

  “West Diaz. Nice to meet you.” He takes out his phone. “I’ll give him a call to check on him before I head to McKenzie’s.”

  “Oh good, because I was going to, but since you are…” Shut up, Brooklyn. Just because you overheard the man defending your honor to some strange
r with threats of violence does not mean he wants to pick out china patterns. Not that I want to pick those out in the first place.

  “Give him time, Brooklyn.”

  West walks away, and I start for my car. Time is all I can afford to give Parker. Any more than that and I’ll crack.

  *

  Headlights shine straight into my living room, before cutting off and leaving it dark again. Curious as to who’s in my driveway, I head to the front door, pausing my movie along the way.

  I peek out the window at the top and do a double take. Opening the door, I can barely take in what I’m seeing. “Is that a tree?”

  Parker grins at me. “Not just any tree, but a Christmas tree. Pre-lit.”

  Unsure what to do, I just stand there.

  “If you let me inside, we can set it up and decorate it.”

  Somehow, I make my fingers work to open the storm door to let him inside. He brushes past me, leaning down a little to kiss my cheek. “Happy Birthday, Brooklyn.”

  Setting the tree by the fireplace in the living room, he dashes back outside, calling over his shoulder, “I have some more stuff to get out of my truck, so prop open the door for me.”

  Sparks of excitement come to life inside of me, despite the shock of seeing him and the tree in my living room. After propping the door open, I wander back to the living room to stare in awe at the tree. I touch the branches, feel the lights that have yet to be lit, and marvel at the height.

  “I’ll plug it in.”

  The tree blazes to life, with multicolored lights that twinkle. “You have to pull out the branches, sweetheart, so we can decorate.”

  My lip trembles as I turn to face him. Only, whatever I was about to say completely rushes out of my mind when I see the stack of boxes. Some are wrapped in Christmas paper and others in the bright colors of party paper.

  “Are those for me?” Tears prick at my eyes, a few escaping. I dash them away with my knuckles. “Did you do all of this just for me?”

  Parker takes a step toward me, and then another until hardly anything at all separates us. “I know what it’s like not to celebrate—not for the reasons you have, but because we knew no one cared about us. When Kelly came along, Cole and I decided to make everything as special for her as we could.”