Awaken Me

by Farrah Rochon

  This was a good thing. It was a great thing. She would be happy about it. Ecstatic. Reid being reassigned to the Westbank site was exactly what she needed.

  “Sure,” Brooklyn snarked. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  Chapter Nine

  Reid closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he stood on the balcony of his hotel room, his palms wrapped around the thick metal railing. He welcomed the feel of the sun on his face as the sea breeze blew in from the still warm gulf waters. He opened his eyes and concentrated on the crush of the waves. They kissed the white sand below, foaming against the shoreline.

  Colorful umbrellas dotted the beach for as far as he could see. Kids building sandcastles tried their hardest to protect their creations from the rising tide. The occasional whoop of laughter could be heard coming from the group of teens who’d been out there since Reid had arrived on this balcony nearly an hour ago.

  Grabbing a nap before they left for the convention would have been the smart thing to do, but he’d proved not to be all that smart these days. He checked his watch. If he went to sleep now he’d probably sleep through the rest of the afternoon. After the hellish night he’d had, he was so damn tired he’d had to drink two Big Gulp-sized cups of coffee over the hour-and-a-half drive out here to Biloxi. But Reid knew sleep would continue to evade him, just as it had most nights this week. His mind was too busy playing back how he’d royally messed shit up with Brooklyn to get much rest.

  He’d held out a slim measure of hope that the situation wasn’t as dire as he’d imagined when he left the urgent care job site on Monday, but this morning’s awkward car ride pretty much solidified that it was indeed hopeless. Reid wasn’t sure which had been the nail in the coffin. Was it those three ex-bedmates barging back into his life like the ghosts from Christmas past, or was it the fact that he hadn’t thought to invite Brooklyn to sit at the table with him once she arrived at the party, instead, relegating her to a booth in the back of the club? In the end, it didn’t matter. Either was sufficient reason for her to kick him to the curb.

  He’d tried more than once to pull her into conversation on their drive over, but her unenthusiastic monotone answers quickly put an end to that. She’d kept her head pointed either straight or toward the passenger side window. After an hour of silence between them, Brooklyn had been the one to bring up the new space and science museum built around the NASA facility just outside of Gulfport, Mississippi. Reid didn’t know shit-all about NASA, but he’d glommed on to the opportunity to engage in some small talk.

  It hadn’t lasted long. Brooklyn had closed up again, mumbling something about missing the shuttle program before turning her attention back to the trees that lined Interstate 10. Silence had occupied the car for the rest of the drive.

  He shouldn’t have come. He understood that now. He could have easily Googled ideas for the kickoff party and left her to enjoy her weekend alone. He’d arrogantly assumed that, if given the opportunity, he would be able to coax Brooklyn out of her sullen attitude toward him and get things back on track.

  “Yeah, you’re doing a bang-up job with that,” Reid muttered.

  With one last look out at the gulf, he turned and headed back into the room, leaving the sliding glass door slightly ajar to let in the warm air. As he pulled out the jeans and New Orleans Saints T-shirt he planned to change into before they left for the convention center, he heard his phone chime with an incoming text. He walked over to the bureau where he’d set his phone and turned it over. His heartbeat quickened at the site of Brooklyn’s name.

  I’ll be ready in a half hour.

  She wasn’t a smiley face kind of person, so expecting to see one was just stupid on his part. Yet, he wished there was something to indicate that she was possibly warming up to him. Right now, all he felt was coldness.

  No, he never should have come here.

  He was her ride, so he couldn’t go back to New Orleans without her. Maybe he could claim he wasn’t feeling well and just hang out here at the hotel for the next day and a half.

  But that would be stupid too. Because he did want to be here. He needed to be here. He’d come with the goal of collecting ideas for the kickoff party that he could bring back to his siblings. When he’d told Indina what he had planned this weekend, she’d asked him to look specifically for ideas on how they could promote the party, as well as decorating the ballroom they’d put a down payment on just this past Tuesday.

  His brothers and sister were counting on him to get this right. For the first time in his life, Reid had stepped up. He’d put the responsibility solidly on his own shoulders and he refused to shirk away from it. He would not let his family down.

  Instead of sequestering himself in this hotel room all weekend, he would go to the conference, but would give Brooklyn as much space as she needed. If she wanted to part ways as soon as they arrived at the convention center, that’s what they would do. He had no idea what one did at a comics convention. He might find everything he needed within the first hour and spend the rest of his time in a corner catching up with college football scores on his phone, but he would not ruin this for her.

  Reid decided to jump in the shower just because he had a little extra time to kill, but the water felt so damn good he ended up spending way more time in there than he should have. He had to rush to get dressed so he wouldn’t be late meeting Brooklyn.

  Her room was across the hall and two doors down. Reid had asked her if she’d wanted to switch to the room with the view of the gulf, but she said she would spend most of her free time working on the Dynamo Diane drawings anyway, so the room should go to someone who would be able to truly enjoy the view.

  He’d then made the mistake of asking her what she planned to charge for the Dynamo Diane drawings.

  It never occurred to him that he shouldn’t have asked it. He’d meant to bring it up days ago, after Indina emailed him and his brothers the price list for all the expenses regarding the party. Reid still hadn’t mentioned anything about Brooklyn’s comic to his siblings; he wanted it to be a surprise. And he’d planned to cover her cost out of his own pocket.

  That she would get paid for her work hadn’t even been a question. He never expected her to spend all those hours drawing an entire comic book for no pay.

  But Brooklyn had taken offense to his inquiry about the price, remarking that if she’d had any intention of charging she would have told him that from the very beginning. Then she’d gone into her hotel room and Reid hadn’t heard from her since. That was two hours ago.

  He blew out an irritated breath. His ability to put his foot in his mouth these days was worthy of a gold medal.

  He grabbed his wallet and phone, and slid both in his pants pocket. He did the same with the small writing pad with the hotel’s logo, just in case he needed to take notes. Then he looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything he might need.

  “Not as if you know what’s needed at a comics convention,” he muttered. He was so out of his element.

  Satisfied that he had everything, Reid opened the door and lost the ability to breathe. Standing just on the other side was one of the hottest fucking sights he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “I was just coming to get you,” Brooklyn said matter-of-factly, as if she wasn’t standing there blowing his mind in real-time.

  She wore a deep red bodysuit that clung to her curves like a man holding onto a tree in the middle of a hurricane. The bodice dipped in a deep V between her breasts—those ridiculously gorgeous, luscious, made-for-his-hands-to-squeeze breasts. On her head sat a gold crown shaped like a spear. A matching red cape flowed from her waist, trimmed in shiny gold fabric, what Indina would probably call brocade or some shit like that.

  Reid swallowed hard. Then he swallowed again. He was suddenly thirsty as hell.

  Brooklyn probably didn’t give a rat’s ass what he thought about her appearance, but he couldn’t not say it.

  “You look…uh…” Amazing. Magnificent.
Edible. “You look badass,” he finished.

  Her lips tipped up in a humble smile. “Thanks.” She looked down at her outfit. “I worked on it for months. I would have liked the belt to be a bit more ornate, but I’d already blown my budget by a lot.”

  She was talking to him again. Not in monosyllables or five-word sentences, but really talking to him. Reid was still relishing in the fact that she’d apparently given up her almost totally silent treatment when he registered what she’d just said.

  “Wait, you made this yourself?”

  She nodded.

  “Who are you supposed to be?” he asked, but then answered his own question. “You’re Iansan. You’re your own freaking warrior goddess! Damn, Brooklyn, what can’t you do?”

  The blush he’d missed so much this past week darkened her cheeks. “It wasn’t as hard as you’d think. All it takes is finding a used sewing machine on Craigslist and watching a bunch of YouTube videos.”

  “That easy, huh?” Reid asked with a skeptical lift of his brow.

  “Yeah, okay. So maybe it takes a little talent,” she said, her lips twisted up in a shy smile.

  “Still selling yourself short, huh?” Reid said as he closed the door behind him and stepped into the hallway, reducing the space separating them down to just a few inches. Leaning into her, he said, “I guess I’ll just have to remind you how amazing you are every single day for you to finally believe it.”

  She stared up at him, her expression coated in uncertainty, as if the moment confused her. Then she shook her head and took a step back.

  “Uh, so, are you ready?” she asked with obvious unease.

  Apparently, he’d read the situation all wrong. Just because she was talking to him again, that didn’t mean she was ready to return to the flirtatious teasing that had become a part of their normal, everyday existence.

  There were back to taking things slow. He couldn’t expect her to just open herself up to him again without his having to work for it.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m ready,” Reid said. He gestured to his jeans and T-shirt. “Though I now feel a bit underdressed.”

  “You are,” she confirmed with a nod. “But I’m sure you won’t be the only one. There’s bound to be a few readers who’ll be in regular clothes. Maybe,” she tacked on before starting for the elevators.

  “Wait,” Reid said, holding the elevator door open for her. “Should I go out and buy a costume or something?”

  “You’re fine, Reid. Really. But you have to understand that cons are one of the very few places where cosplayers truly feel as if they can be themselves. So don’t be surprised if there are more people in costumes than not.”

  Yep, definitely out of his element.

  When the elevator doors opened to the lobby floor of their hotel, there were several people milling about who were also dressed in costume, but not a single one of them stood out the way Brooklyn did. Reid took notice of how many heads turned as she strode through the lobby in her Iansan costume. She embodied the warrior goddess, her regal head lifted in the air, the elaborate cape flowing behind her.

  She was sexy and confident and seemingly oblivious to it all. It was the biggest turn-on.

  Of course, there wasn’t much about her that wasn’t a turn-on for him.

  They exited the hotel and headed west toward the convention center. Brooklyn had explained that the hotel attached to the building where the conference was being held had sold out in a matter of minutes. The closer they drew to the event hall, the more Reid felt out of place. Costumed convention-goers joined them on the sidewalk, the swell of people making their way toward the event growing with every yard they traveled. He was tempted to run back to their hotel, grab the shower curtain from his room, tie it around his neck like a cape and call himself the Broke Ass Superhero. It would be better than Loser Guy in T-shirt and Jeans.

  The attendant at the gate scanned the ticket code on Brooklyn’s phone and they were allowed to enter.

  The moment they cleared the atrium, Reid stopped dead in his tracks.

  Bright, vibrant colors assaulted him from every angle. Striking poster displays depicting the various heroes and villains from the comics world adorned myriad booths. Thick columns were shrink-wrapped with an assortment of TV show logos. And a huge banner welcoming guests to Biloxi’s First Annual Comics Convention hung from the ceiling. The conference had opened to the public less than an hour ago, yet it was already packed with people.

  “This is insane. In a good way,” Reid quickly added.

  “Not what you were expecting?” Brooklyn asked, amusement tinting her voice.

  He slowly shook his head as he scanned the massive space. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but this goes far beyond it. How do you even know what to do first?”

  “You study the line-up well ahead of time so that you know exactly where all the popular panels will take place,” Brooklyn answered. “Which is why I’ll be in Exhibit Hall H for the next two hours. You can take the time to look around on your own.”

  “What’s in Exhibit Hall H?”

  “A panel discussion on the symbolism found in The Dark Knight movie franchise.”

  Apparently, his complete and utter horror at the thought of sitting through two hours of that particular discussion was evident on his face, because she patted his arm and said, “Meet me outside of the hall in two hours. Take this time to tour the conference. Hopefully you can find some cool ideas to take back to your sister and brothers.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “Reid, if you come in there with me you’ll be ready to climb the walls within the first twenty minutes.” She pointed to the main floor. “Go.”

  He acquiesced, setting out in the opposite direction from where she headed. For the next hour, Reid experienced complete sensory overload as he meandered around the convention center. He toured the various booths and snapped no less than a hundred pictures to bring back to Indina. He would let his sister decide what would work for the kickoff party and what wouldn’t. Reid knew his limits.

  He found his way to the center of the main floor and captured a 360-degree video of the space, then went around to more booths, collecting promotional items from vendors. They would have to get some Dynamo Diane buttons made, and those little cushiony stress balls shaped like a heart were a no-brainer for a foundation whose main purpose was to raise awareness about heart disease.

  As he ambled among the crowd filled with Darth Vaders of all shapes and sizes, scantily-clad women as superheroes, and a group of men all dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, Reid wondered if he could maybe one day get into this kind of stuff. Brooklyn’s comic had been the first one he’d ever read, but since his introduction to Iansan he’d borrowed several of his nephew’s Justice League comics.

  Maybe, if he showed more interest, Brooklyn would allow him in her world a little more.

  His chest ached with his longing to become a part of her world. A mélange of mental images cascaded through his brain, reminding him of the times she’d let him in. Like that afternoon when she’d shared her drawings of Iansan, something she admitted she had not shared with anyone else. And those times he’d been given access to that sweet mouth of hers. Was there anything on this earth as delicious as her kiss? Reid would challenge anyone who tried to make that argument.

  An announcement was made over the loud speaker that the next set of panels would be starting in ten minutes. Reid hustled back to Exhibit Hall H, squeezing his way through the packed aisle, apologizing every few seconds to attendees for bumping into their protruding costume components.

  When he arrived at the exhibit hall, a collection of people dressed as Batman—both men and women—stood outside the door.

  “They’re running late,” one of the half-dozen Batmans said when Reid pointed to the door.

  “Is it okay if I go in there?”

  The guy nodded. “Sure. You can come and go as you please with all of the panels and workshops. Just try to keep th
e noise down.”

  Nodding his thanks, Reid cracked open the door to the darkened room and slid just inside. The room was packed, with all eyes on the three men sitting on a raised dais at the front of the room and the photos being flashed across the screen behind them.

  Despite the reduced visibility, Reid let his eyes roam over the crowd, hoping to find Brooklyn. His mouth tipped up in a grin when he spotted her mass of naturally kinky curls on the far side of the room. While everyone else watched the stage, Reid watched her. She studied the panelists with rapt attention. He’d never seen her more captivated. It, in turn, captivated him.

  The panel came to an end about five minutes later, and the large auditorium was suddenly awash in bright fluorescent lighting. He tracked Brooklyn as she, along with about two dozen others, rushed to the front of the room. Apparently, the panelists had agreed to sign autographs after their talk. He watched as she repeatedly looked from her phone, to the entrance on the opposite side of the room, and then back to the line of people ahead of her. After another five minutes, her shoulders slumped with resignation as she got out of line and started for the door she’d been glancing at while she’d waited.

  It was only then that Reid realized she’d been debating whether to stay in line or leave so that she could meet up with him at their designated meeting spot.

  Damn. He hated that she’d given up her place in line for him. Yet, at the same time, she’d given up her freaking place in line. For him.

  It was in that moment that Reid vowed to be the kind of man worthy of her. He knew how much this meant to her. The fact that she would give up anything for him made him want to do more, to be more. He wanted to be the man she deserved.

  Reid approached from the opposite end, coming up behind her. “Hey,” he said.

  She jumped and turned, her brow dipping in confusion at the sight of him. “Hey. What are you doing in here?”