“What?” I spit when she trails off.
“Yes,” she confirms simply. “I care about you.”
“But not enough,” I add. “You’re willing to let me marry someone else.”
“What else do you want, Brock?” she questions in exasperation. “You want a break from us, take it. It’s yours. I don’t know what to say.”
“I do,” I insist. I hate the fact it was Evan who drove me to this, fueling me to the point of desperation. Somehow, though, no matter the cause of my self-discovery, in many ways, I already knew. “What if I told you I love you?”
When her hotel door bursts open, both our heads turn. Addie’s smile falls flat the second she takes in Brooke sitting on her bed alone. Ryleigh’s does the same. Drew immediately moves his gaze to mine, disappointment seeping from every angle.
Turning my focus back to Brooke, I stand stock-still above her. Looking down, as if in slow motion, two tears fall heavily against her cheeks. She swipes them away and stands.
I told her I loved her and she cried.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Addie bids. “We came back because Ryleigh has to get ready...”
“Addie, no,” Drew interrupts before closing his eyes.
Yeah, all of this is fucked.
“She has to get ready for her date with Brock,” Brooke bites out. “It’s okay,” she tells them as she stands. Once she passes me on her way to the still open door, she turns quickly to tell the others, “We were done anyway.”
Ryleigh was downstairs waiting for me at the hotel bar as agreed. I had Drew tell her I’d meet her there rather than going back to Brooke’s room. It was easier this way. Not to mention, Matt eluding that he knows who leaves whose room at all hours of the day and night. In his eyes, we’re no better than high school kids sneaking out of the closet after a quick game of seven minutes in heaven. In a way, Brooke and I haven’t been far from that, partaking in our own secret version of Reality High.
“Have you talked to her since you left?” Ryleigh, sitting beside me in the same Italian Bistro I took Mary Ann, gently questions.
“I haven’t,” I reply. “I’m sorry you walked in on that.”
Ryleigh waves her hand around her face. “Don’t be. I’ll say, if anything, you and Brooke have made things here more interesting.”
“More interesting than Evan?”
Ryleigh exhales dramatically. “Oh, thank God, you brought him up! I was afraid to say anything.”
Smiling for the first time, I’m thankful that of all nights, tonight is Ryleigh’s.
“Did you know he had the audacity to ask me about her?”
My smile abruptly falls.
“He did,” she continues. “Right before Drew and Addie came to get me for lunch. He asked if I had a second. I said sure, cause why not, right?”
Right.
“I thought maybe he wanted to ask me out for a drink or tell me I was his choice for tonight. But he didn’t.”
This isn’t going to be good. My life would be too easy, too predictable, had he asked about Ryleigh. She’s one of a few who I know have no interest in being there at the end.
“Then he asks me, her competition, if I knew anything about her past relationships.”
“He asked you what?”
Annoyed, she exclaims, “Seriously! He asked me if I knew anything about where she came from, who she dated, what experience she’s had.”
Seriously.
Ryleigh catches on quick. Sensing this is the last thing I want to hear of Evan, she says, “Let’s order. Dinner is on Matt and Willow, and Clive looks bored.”
When I look over to Clive, he’s holding the camera directly at us, but his posture is faltering. He looks like he’s about to fall asleep.
“If you want, I can make a huge scene and act like you’re breaking my heart,” she offers. “But after dinner. I’m starving.”
“I’m good,” I reply. “Thanks, though.”
“No?” Her eyebrows lift in mischief. “You could act like you’re about to kiss me if you want. I’ve got no problems steering the attention my way if it takes it off Brooke and Evan.”
My head tilts, and my eyes narrow. Her passive comment holds a truth she can’t take back.
I need confirmation, so I ask, “Why would you need to take attention off Brooke and Evan?”
Ryleigh’s face pales. Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Tell me,” I encourage. “Tell me they’re together right now on a date.”
“Brock, wait.”
“Unbelievable,” I hiss. Running my hands through my hair, I pull it in frustration. “He chose her first, didn’t he?”
With an expression of absolute defeat, Ryleigh lends the truth. “Yes. She didn’t want to go. I know she didn’t, Brock.”
“How’s that?” I question before downing the entire glass of wine I hadn’t yet touched.
“She likes you. She said it last night. If Kylee had been there, she may have punched her.”
Fuck it. I told the woman I loved her and she shed tears.
Turning around in my chair, I find our waiter. I don’t care if I’m sitting in a crowded restaurant, yet to be served my dinner. I’m livid. It’s time to go.
“Check!” I call out, just as Ryleigh whispers, “Oh shit.”
Once I stand and grab my suit jacket from the back of my chair, I take out my wallet and toss the money for the food we haven’t eaten, as well as a healthy tip to the table.
“Brock, maybe you should take a minute. Calm down a little.”
“Up,” I demand. “Let’s go.”
When she doesn’t move, I walk around the table and pull out her chair. This gives her no choice other than to stand or start screaming out loud, making good on the scene she promised.
“I didn’t mean anything. I just meant...”
“They’re out tonight, aren’t they?” I push. “That’s exactly what you meant.”
“Not yet. He wasn’t taking her to dinner. He was taking her for a drink and not picking her up until nine. Addie said—”
As her hand reaches to grab my arm, I pull it back and step out of reach. My phone messages show zero, other than the one from Brooke earlier, requesting I meet her in her room.
In record time, I shoot her a message back.
Me 07:48 p.m.: Where are you?
Without waiting for a response, I shove the phone back in my suit pocket and grab Ryleigh’s hand to walk her to the door.
I’m not going back to the hotel, and neither is she. I need a drink, and since she’s who I’m supposed to be with, she’s going along.
On the way out of the restaurant, I snap my fingers to Clive who immediately comes out of his daze and stands at attention.
“We’re leaving. Do you know the sports bar on Roosevelt?”
“Capes?”
“Yes, Capes.”
“Yeah,” he answers, smiling wide.
“If that camera should happen to break again, tonight’s drinks are on me.”
Nodding with enthusiasm, Clive grabs his bag to follow us out.
I’m not positive, but if I don’t have answers to all my fucking headaches, Jack Daniels might.
Chapter Forty-Four
I want an old man to kiss my hand, too.
Brooke
-
After leaving without a word to the others in my room, I walked to a park across the street from the hotel and found a quiet bench away from all the people. There, I watched an elderly couple strolling up and down the same sidewalk again and again. They were in no hurry. No one was calling them on their cell phones, or texting them where to be and when. There were no busy or conflicting schedules herding them apart, shuffling them along from building to building.
They were happy just to be together.
And, for what it’s worth, I was happy for them.
My relationship with Brock isn’t what they have at all. Our time together lately has been filled with ange
r, jealously, resentment, and threats to our sanity. But not until the old man in a black pea coat took his wife’s hand in his, brought it to his lips and kissed her, did the weight of what’s happened since we got back from our break settle.
I love him.
Brock isn’t perfect; he never claimed to be. His reasons for being here, in part, are like mine. Our lives separately weren’t being fulfilled according to those who love us. Together, he’s made this experience something I’ll never regret. It was a foolish chance I took that’s made me crazy happy that I did. Yet, because of my stubbornness, I never stopped to see Brock for who he really is. Aside from the cameras and the circumstances that surround us being here, I shut him out before he ever had a chance to get in.
I gave him only pieces of myself I was willing to leave behind when I should’ve been giving him all I have.
Earlier, as I was strolling through the grass alone, Willow called. I didn’t answer the first time; however, the woman is hell on persistence and kept calling until I finally did. When she explained I was Evan’s first pick, I laughed. I waited for her to ask about last night and if I had in fact already met him, but she didn’t, and I didn’t give up any more information. Part of me thinks she knew anyway. The whole scenario was too coincidental.
Maybe we should take a break.
He’ll choose you. Evan will. I know it.
It’ll be the end of us.
What if I told you I love you?
“You are entirely too distracted to be having any fun,” Evan observes before taking a sip of his wine and peering at me over its rim. “Want to talk about it?”
Do I want to talk about it? No. Not with him.
“You set me up, Evan. You set this all up,” I jauntily accuse. “So, not only am I distracted, but I don’t like you.”
With a grin I vaguely remember from the other night, he tells me, “You’re already his, Brooke Malloy. I have no intention of taking someone else’s place.”
“Then why all this?” I gesture around the restaurant, pointing to the bald cameraman standing in the corner.
I miss Clive.
“Because it’s television. Ratings.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Placing his glass back down on the table, he scoffs. “That’s exactly what this is, and mind you, you came here for the same reasons I did.”
He’s right, and I hate that he is. However, a keen and dawning realization strikes me with escalating force. I did come here, whether it was under subtle protest or not. But I found my strength here, as well as finding Brock.
“I’d like you to take me back to the hotel if you don’t mind.”
Shaking his head, he grabs the black folder holding our tab sitting beside him. He opens it and scans the bill. “I’ll take you back.” Looking up, he pins me with a determined expression. “On one condition.”
Folding my arms across my chest and sitting back in my chair, I narrow my eyes. “And that is?”
“Have a drink with me at the hotel bar, for no other reason than I picked you first and the cameras are still rolling. The result of my first date can’t be the woman I chose, demanding to go back to the man she really wants to be with.”
“No,” I deny without a second thought. “I want to go back to the hotel and to my room.”
One dimple appears, then another, as his boyish smile widens. Evan is an outsider, a foreigner to my world here as it is. I hate that smile.
“I’m not holding you hostage, Brooke. I like you. You’re cute and sweet.”
I scoff.
“Or you were, anyway. I’m not so sure anymore.”
The tension fades from my body as I remember my dad’s advice. I’m supposed to be nice. I’m nice to everyone, even those who cross me. It’s not necessarily Evan who caused mine and Brock’s fallout. It was bound to happen, given where we are and the situation surrounding us.
“One drink,” I relent.
“One drink.” He lifts his chin and holds up the bill. “Well, Brooke, if I’ve just bought more time with you, we should go.”
Chapter Forty-Five
How much longer can I endure?
Brooke
-
It’s been over a week since I left Brock standing in my room, alone with our friends. The last text he sent still sits alone and unanswered on my screen.
Brock 07:48 p.m.: Where are you?
Both anger and pride kept me from answering. He knew where I was. Ryleigh had told him. Through no fault of her own, of course, she charismatically relayed his heated reaction to my ‘date’ with the newest groom.
“I don’t see Evan,” Kate frets, standing at my side near the corner of the room as we wait for final makeup and hair approval. We’re the last to enter the informal living room. “And Brock’s not here, either.”
Glancing around the open area, I’m careful not to let my gaze linger in any one place for too long. The Barbie twins will surely be around here somewhere. Since all the drama between Brock and I played out, I’ve done a good job so far of avoiding them. All I’ve heard is that Brock had his date with Kylee, and per those rumors, their time together was interesting. I didn’t probe to find out how ‘interesting’ it had gotten. I knew I wasn’t ready, but also knew I’d never be.
Ignorance is bliss.
Yesterday, during the group lunch, I avoided eye contact with both Brock and Evan. The cameras were rolling and they were standing close, probably zooming closer. The nearer we get to the end of this, the more the viewers are waiting with bated breath for drama to add to their viewing pleasure. I have none to give them.
When I called my dad this morning to hear his voice, the urge to pack my bags and book a plane ticket home was overwhelming. The consequences of doing that would suck, though. The contract is solid. I’d be ridiculed not only in the public eye, but most likely be sued for breach of contract, as well.
I’ll say in my defense, though, that even Addie has had enough. She’s as over this shit as I am. Thankfully, she’s been the one true crutch I’ve leaned on, and I appreciate all she’s done this week to help me keep my shit together. Between her and Brock’s friend Drew, I shudder to think how Brock’s cold shoulder could’ve affected me had they not been here.
Caring about someone, but knowing you’ve disappointed them is painful. Adding to that, knowing you’ll never be together like that again—well, the notion is crippling in its own right.
Memories are all I’ll take with me. And, after all that’s happened, those feel empty.
“Girls,” Willow beckons, standing at the front of the room as she usually does. “Give me your attention, please.”
All quiet chatter fades, and the women turn in their positions to listen. Other than a few heavy sighs, Willow begins her command of the room.
“The audience has voted.” Of course they did, but I’m tired of hearing about what the audience wants. “Brock and Evan will have dates tonight, but not of their choosing. They’ll be taking who’s been selected for them.”
Small gasps and more sighs, along with a few eye rolls come from those around me.
“And here we go,” Ryleigh whispers, coming to stand at my side. She looks flustered, which I’ve never seen before. She’s also smiling wide, which I have seen, but not to this grade. “More surprises,” she grins, then lifts her eyebrows in mischief. “Can’t wait.”
I can.
“Evan, can you step up here with me, please?” Willow requests. Looking to the side door, we all watch Evan enter the room.
As he takes the makeshift stage, a few women clap, while a few speak quietly to the girls beside them. Others, like me, say nothing.
“Evan has been here a couple of weeks, as you know. He’s taken a few of you out. So, before the guys go on their final dates, we’ve let the audience decide who they will take out next.”
Shit.
The idea of having to witness who the audience wants Brock to spend more time with sickens me. Not to mention, w
hat if I’ve been chosen to go with Evan?
Oh God.
Turning to the proud new bachelor, mic in hand, Willow smiles. Her white teeth glisten under the lights as the camera aims its lens to capture what’s about to play out.
“Evan,” she addresses, holding a white card in her hand. “Tonight, Leslie will be with you.”
Evan smiles, but so do I. Not because he is, but because he’s uncomfortable in doing so. Leslie is nasty, just as nasty as Kylee, if not more so.
When he looks into the crowd, he finds Leslie at Kylee’s side and nods to her with acknowledgement. After, he leaves the stage, and he does it quickly.
Yeah, he’s excited.
“Brock, our leading man, come on out.”
Brock, being around the longest, knowing all of us more than Evan, is met with cheers and claps all around. Except I don’t clap or cheer. I can’t move. My heart hurts too much for motion.
Brock’s wearing another suit. His hair is styled to perfection. His posture stands both rigid and strong. His confidence as always is unwavering. As he stands next to Willow facing the room, he clutches his hands in front of him and looks down.
“Brock, the audience chose...” Willow waits, holding the card in front of her as if she’s surprised at the result. “Kate!”
Fuck. No, please. No. Not Kate.
Turning in place, I give no thought as to how my running may look to the others or Brock because I don’t care.
I want to go home.
Chapter Forty-Six
Women are so fucking infuriating.
Brock
-
“Are you sure you don’t need me to fly out there, Brock? ’Cause I’ll do it. I’ll get on a plane tomorrow. Just tell Mom and Dad you need backup.”
“Tatum Lee,” I hiss, using her full name to garner her attention. “No, damn it. I don’t need you here.”
“Bullshit,” she spouts. “Drew told Nick you were miserable. I say misery calls for company. Let me come out there, Brock. Please!”
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