“You know it’s different for girls,” I said softly. “Boys don’t get called sluts when they do what I did this weekend.”
“Well that’s bullshit then,” she said. “You are not a slut. You are a grown woman and you can make your own choices. Did you make a commitment to either of them? Did you trick either of them or lie to them?”
I didn’t answer and she sighed. “Well, did you?”
“No,” I said softly. “I didn’t do any of those things. I just slept around.”
“Babe, the only litmus test you need to pass is the one you feel comfortable with,” she went on. “I know the things that matter to you. You are honest and loyal and you’re good to people. You don’t lie or manipulate. You don’t play games. And you didn’t break any of those rules last night. So what the hell do you have to feel guilty about?”
“Nothing, I guess,” I said. I was starting to feel better in spite of myself.
“That’s right,” she said, sounding pleased. “Please, don’t let Paul Harting make you feel bad. You know he’s just jealous.”
“I guess.”
Emily was quiet for a moment. “Brooke, how were you feeling about this before you ran into Paul?”
I thought about that. “Well, I felt pretty bad about myself last night, before I even hooked up with John. Just knowing that I was considering it made me feel guilty. But once it actually happened…I don’t know. I didn’t feel so guilty anymore. I was too busy feeling happy.”
Emily was quiet again. “Em?”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out how much of this is because of what Paul said and how much of it is what you actually feel. Look, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what you did, but if you’re feeling uncomfortable about it…”
“I should stop being such a hussy?”
Emily laughed. “To put it much more bluntly than I would have. Brooke, I just want you to be happy, you know that, right?”
“Of course,” I said. And then, since we were fast approaching sappy territory, I added, “you big loser.”
“Thanks for that, bitch,” she said drily, making me laugh. Emily wasn’t big on swearing, at least not compared to me. Even back in high school, Paul and our friend Chris had always said I could out-cuss any boy in our class. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t beat yourself up over this. But it might not be a bad idea to spend some time thinking about what you really want, you know?”
“Are you back on the boyfriend kick now?”
“I didn’t say boyfriend. Only you know what will make you happy. But I think it’s important that you try to figure out what that is. If you’re confident in your decisions, you’ll be a lot less likely to get your panties all in a twist because of something that the Pauls or Justines of the world have to say. Right?”
“Yeah,” I said, sighing. We were getting very close to a subject we rarely discussed; my self-confidence, or lack of it, and the root cause behind why I did some of the things I did. Emily was the only person in the world who had even an inkling of why I sometimes acted the way I did—and why it was so hard for me to hear criticism about my sexual choices.
“How’s the convention going?” Emily asked, wisely knowing it was time to change the subject. I felt a rush of relief. Already my mind had started to drift back to a dark college dorm room, all those years ago. Memories like that just didn’t bear thinking about.
“It’s going really good,” I said, eager for the distraction. “The guys are a lot cooler than I thought they would be, and they seem like they’re having a great time. They even got my dad playing this afternoon.”
Emily laughed. “That’s a vision I’m having a hard time forming.” I heard noises in the background and her muffled voice; she must have covered the phone.
“Was that Elliot?” I asked, when she came back.
“Yeah. We’re supposed to be meeting some of his friends for a beer. But I can talk, I told him I’d be a minute.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m fine. I should get to work now anyhow.”
“Are you really okay?” she sounded unsure.
“I am,” I said firmly. “Promise. I feel much better. Thanks for the chat.”
“Any time,” she said. “Seriously. Even tonight, you can call me any time.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Elliot’s friends are really nerdy, so please feel free to interrupt, okay?”
“Got it.”
After I hung up, I stared at my desk for a while, wishing I had some busy work to distract me. I couldn’t help but replay over and over again what Paul had said. But I was finding that it had less sting than before. Emily had instructed me to think about what I truly felt comfortable with. If I was honest with myself, I felt far worse about my hook-up with Paul than I did about hooking up with a near stranger.
“I had fun with John,” I whispered. That was the simple truth. Both the day before and on our outing that afternoon I had really, really enjoyed myself. Maybe I was wrong to try and find comfort in Paul the other night. But I was done agonizing over John. We liked each other, we had fun together, and we only had two more nights.
I stood up from the desk, straightening my shoulders as I walked to the door. Paul could say what he liked. I knew what I wanted and I was done feeling guilty.
Chapter Eleven
Many hours later, I lay curled up in John’s bed, staring at the moonlight on the bay through the window. “It’s a nice view,” I murmured sleepily.
“Even better from back here,” John said from behind me, running a hand lazily down my hip. I could hear the amusement in his voice, and it made me smile.
“I should probably get up,” I said a few minutes later. “I have to be up really early to make sure the breakfast is all set up.” The convention was set to end the following morning with a breakfast banquet. Apparently awards would be given out and the officers would be nominated for the next year. According to Kyle, it was the highlight of the entire year.
“What time do they check out?” John asked.
“Noon.” Only twelve more hours to go, and I’d be free. I was expecting a week or two of relative quiet before we started getting guests in for Thanksgiving. I frowned. It was hard to anticipate the week ahead so eagerly when it meant John would be gone.
“Then I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow afternoon?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my stomach. I leaned back into him.
“Yup. I’ll have some cleanup to do after check out, but then I’m free as a bird.”
“Excellent,” John said, nuzzling the back of my neck. “I can’t wait. Now, let’s discuss this whole, you need to get up nonsense. I do not approve.”
“You don’t, huh?”
“Nope.” Suddenly John sat up in bed. “Unless, that is, I get to get out of bed with you.”
I rolled over so I could see his face. He was looking at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
“I noticed this afternoon that you have a hot tub on the premises. And it appeared to be up and running.”
I smiled, guessing where he was going with this. “Yes, we do. Nothing but the best in amenities for our guests here at Murray Inn.”
“Well, then,” John said, standing up. “What the heck are we waiting for?”
“Did you bring a swimsuit?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing you in the buff, but I really can’t allow such shenanigans on my watch.”
John bounded over to the dresser and rummaged through it for a moment, finally holding up a pair of swim shorts. “I did, in fact. I like to swim for exercise, and I thought I might be in a place that had a fitness facility.”
I laughed. “A fitness facility. You’re so naïve. It’s cute.”
“Come on, lazy bones. Get your butt out of bed and go find a suit.”
It had been a long few days with little sleep, and the idea of hot water on my tired muscles did sound amazing. And it was a chilly nig
ht—I had always been a fan of using the hot tub when the air was cold. It felt so decadent, somehow. “Fine,” I said, sitting up in bed and letting the sheet fall away from my body. John froze, staring at me.
“Never mind,” he said, crossing back to the bed. “Let’s just stay right here.”
I laughed and jumped out of bed, grabbing my wrap dress and pulling it on John groaned. “No way, buddy. You said hot tub, so hot tub is what you’re gonna get.”
“Fine,” he said, sighing dramatically.
“How would you feel about stopping by the bar to grab a bottle of wine while I get my suit?”
“What if Stan catches me?” John asked, pretending to shudder.
I laughed and kissed his cheek as I passed. “Tell him I sent you.”
“If he hurts me, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
I laughed again as I slipped out of the room, feeling content—and entirely determined not to think about Monday again for the rest of the night.
* * *
I spent most of Sunday holed up in the suite with John. The end of the convention had gone off without a hitch. The gamers were clearly happy with their stay—many of them had even stopped me to tell me they hoped they would hold the next convention at the inn as well. As soon as they were checked out and we got the place cleaned up, I sent the entire staff home for the day. They’d all put in extra hours over the weekend to make the event a success, and I was grateful for their hard work. My dad agreed to hang out until the restaurant staff showed up for dinner on the off chance someone came by. I was free.
John and I stocked the mini-fridge with beer and sandwiches, determined not to leave the suite for the rest of the day. I unearthed a plate of brownies that had somehow managed to avoid consumption, and we were set. We spent most of the day lounging and talking about our respective careers, with a few conversation breaks in order to participate in advanced make-out sessions.
By seven, we realized that you could, in fact, over-load on vegging out, so we got dressed and set out in search of a meal. Unfortunately, being a Sunday night in a small town, we couldn’t find much that was open. We eventually settled for slices of pizza, which we took down to the harbor park to eat as we watched the rapidly setting sun.
“This must be gorgeous in the summer,” John said, looking out over Thunder Bay, stretching out to Lake Huron in the distance.
“It is,” I agreed. “Lots of boats, lots of people walking around. Have you ever been swimming in Lake Huron?”
John shook his head. “Just Lake Michigan.”
I sniffed dismissively. “Our lake is much clearer. And it’s on the better side of the state.”
“Oh, is it a contest?” he asked, looking over at me.
“You’re damn right it is,” I said, taking a bite of pizza. Once I’d finished chewing, I continued, “I’m a sunrise-side girl, John. You better make clear your allegiance.”
“I don’t know,” he said, grinning. “I’m kinda partial to Lake Michigan. Would we call that the sunset side?”
I pretended to gag. “Sunrise side rules.”
John laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”
We walked back to the inn under the darkening sky. John held my hand the entire way. If I didn’t think about it too much, I could almost pretend that this could continue on forever. The thought of the next day, and his departure, was weighing heavily on me.
By the time the moon was making its appearance over the bay, we were wrapped up in each other in John’s bed once more. I was amazed at how comfortable I felt with him already; the way I seemed to know his body and what he was feeling. It felt as if I had known him much longer than a weekend. Surely we’d had more nights together than only three?
Unbidden, an image came to my mind of the two of us on the same path by the water we had walked that evening, only now it was summer. I could picture it so clearly, John and me together. It scared me how much I wanted it to be real. Had I fallen for this man? How could I, when I barely knew him?
“What are you thinking about?” John asked, his voice breaking the silence that had descended over the bed. “You haven’t fallen asleep on me, have you?”
“No, I’m awake,” I said, my voice soft. I wanted to tell him how I was feeling, wondered if he could possibly be feeling the same way. But I was scared. I didn’t do the emotional talk-about-your-feelings thing with guys.
“Brooke, are you okay?” John asked, kissing the back of my neck. I sighed in contentment. Even the smallest kiss from him could send me reeling.
Turning toward him, I took a deep breath, nervous to say the words that were struggling to get out. “John, I wish you weren’t going.”
He looked at me in the darkness, surprise clear on his face. “Really?”
“Of course. I’ve had a really great time with you. I wish…I wish it didn’t have to end.”
“Brooke,” he sighed. “You know I have to get back. We talked about this. I thought we both agreed it would just be this weekend.”
“I know,” I said quickly, feeling mortified. “I know you have to go home. I’m just saying…I wish things were different is all. This was a good weekend.”
He pulled me closer to him in the darkness of his suite, wrapping his arms around me. “It was. A really, really great weekend.”
I wanted him to tell me that he wanted things to be different, too. That we could figure out a way to make things work. I wished he would invite me to Chicago. I realized, in that moment, that I would go anywhere he asked.
What the hell is wrong with you, Brooke Murray? I thought to myself furiously. You do not go chasing after some guy you barely know. This isn’t you. I felt so disgusted with myself that I wanted to get out of that room, away from John and the memory of how great we were together. I was about to pull away when John started to speak.
“Brooke,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Things in my life are really complicated right now. There’s…there’s some crap going on that has been making things hard for me.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped suddenly, a terrible thought occurring to me. “Are you married?”
“No,” he said, chuckling. “God no. But I am having some family issues. I can’t tell you how amazing it was to get away from all that this weekend. And then, to find you here…it was one of the best weekends of my life, Brooke. I really mean that. Thank you.”
His words brought both a stab of remorse as well as a measure of comfort. He clearly wanted nothing more to do with me after he left, but at least what we had shared had meant something to him. I hadn’t imagined how great we were together—he had seen it too. I could be satisfied with that.
“I’m glad,” I whispered against his chest. “I’m glad you showed up at my door.”
“Me, too.” John lifted my chin with his finger, forcing my face up to look at him. Softly, he kissed the tip of my nose before moving down to my mouth. I sank into his kiss, wishing I could forget the last ten minutes and just enjoy the last of my time with him. But I couldn’t. I understood where he was coming from, but it didn’t change how I felt. The spell had been broken for me, and I didn’t think I could get it back.
I pulled back. “I’m gonna head home.”
The confusion was evident on his face. “What?”
“I want to sleep at my place tonight. You have your meeting in the morning and a long drive ahead of you, and I have a busy week. We should just say good night so we can both get some rest.”
“Brooke, come on. Stay. Don’t be like that.”
I smiled at him and kissed his cheek. “I’m not upset, I promise. I would just rather say goodbye to you now, instead of waking up to do it all over again in the morning. Okay?”
He looked at me for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
I got out of bed and fumbled in the darkness for my dress. I pulled it over my head and slipped into my shoes, feeling John’s eyes on me the entire time. Once
I was dressed, I walked back to the bed and sat down next to him. “Drive safe tomorrow, okay?”
“I will.”
I leaned down and kissed his lips, one last time. “Goodbye, John.”
“Bye, Brooke.”
I knew, if I stayed a moment longer, I would regret my decision and end up spending the night. So I stood and made my way to the door, only turning to look at him once before I slipped into the hallway. His expression was hard to make out in the darkness, but I could have sworn he looked sad.
I didn’t think to give him my phone number. There was no point, really. We’d had a great weekend together, but that was that. I knew I would never see him again.
Chapter Twelve
The rest of November passed painfully slowly. For the most part, I stayed in, throwing myself into my work to keep busy. I tried my best not to think about John, but it was hard. How had he managed to make such an impact on me in such a short amount of time?
The week of Thanksgiving brought our first real snow of the season. With the snow came relief for me. We would soon see an increase in guests, as sportsmen and families headed north to take advantage of the winter season.
Thanksgiving also brought with it a welcome addition; Emily came home the night before the holiday, bringing Elliot with her.
“Brooke, how are you even more gorgeous than the last time I saw you?” She asked, as she bear-hugged me hello.
“It’s good to see you, too,” I laughed, squeezing her back. She pulled away slightly, her arms still around me, to look at my face.
“Seriously, you’re a knock-out. It’s from all the sex with Mr. Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
I managed a laugh, though her words sent my heart plummeting. I think she could tell something was wrong, but she released me so I could hug Elliot.
“I’m so glad you guys are here,” I said, as we walked arm-in-arm into the restaurant. It was pretty busy for a Wednesday night, filled with a nice mix of the hotel’s guests and locals not in the mood to cook before the holiday. “It’s been boring as all get out lately.”
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